Authors: Cathy Glass
There was a small silence before Richard said, ‘I can see Robert in Danny. I lived with him all those years. I can’t take the chance. Supposing Danny doesn’t progress, which I don’t think he will. It’ll be too late then. Reva isn’t coping now. She’ll be suicidal if things get worse. I’m not convinced Danny has anywhere near the level of awareness you attribute to him. I’m sure in time he’ll forget us.’
I tried to stem my rising anger. I was appalled. Richard had diagnosed and labelled Danny, and had decided there was no hope and he’d be better off in long-term care. There was nothing to lose by speaking out.
‘Danny might just be suffering from mild autism,’ I said. ‘You won’t know unless you have him assessed. And of course he won’t forget you. You’re his parents and he loves you. He’s very aware and takes everything in. Do you have any idea how upsetting it is for him when you and Reva argue? He told George you shout at Mummy and it makes her cry and gives him a tummy ache. He also heard you say that you wished he’d never been born. Danny knows you hide him away from your family, and won’t let him see his step-brother and sister. And as far as I know you don’t let your parents see him at all.’
‘That’s to protect them,’ Richard said defensively. ‘I’m not putting them through all that again. They saw Danny until he was two, but when it became obvious he wasn’t developing normally I stopped taking him to see them. It’s for their own good.’
‘Have you ever asked them for their opinion? Perhaps they would have liked the opportunity to play a part in their grandchild’s life. They could have given you and Reva some support as well. They must be very kind, loving and committed people to have cared for Robert all those years.’ Richard kept his gaze down, staring at a point on the floor.
‘Danny knows he is different,’ I continued. ‘And he dearly wishes he wasn’t. He tells George how much he would like to be the same as all the other children at school. He also told George that if he wasn’t stupid Mummy and Daddy would love him and he could return home, and you’d all live happily together. You want to listen to what Danny tells George sometimes – it can be very revealing. I expect your other two children are bright and reaching all their developmental milestones, but Danny isn’t stupid. He’s just different. Inside he’s a loving, caring, sensitive little boy who finds life very difficult. He thinks you don’t love him – his own father! How sad is that?’ I stopped as my voice caught and I blinked back my tears.
There was silence for a moment and then Richard said, ‘I have told him that his father loves him. Reva said I should.’
‘And you think that’s good enough for Danny? Where’s the passion in your love for him? He’s your son and he desperately needs to feel your love and know he is wanted, but he can’t tell you that. Try to put yourself in his position. It must be devastating.’
Richard suddenly stood. ‘I think you’ve said enough. I’m going now.’ And he headed for the living-room door.
I realized I’d gone too far. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, following him. ‘I feel for Danny and want what is best for him, that’s all.’
‘And you think I don’t?’ he snapped, rounding on me. ‘I shouldn’t have come in.’ He continued down the hall to the front door. ‘Tell Danny I said goodbye.’ He opened the door and went out, pulling it closed behind him.
‘Daddy?’ a little voice called from the top of the stairs. ‘Where’s my daddy?’
Chapter Twenty-Four
I swallowed hard and tried to compose myself. ‘Daddy’s had to go, love,’ I said as Danny came down the stairs in his pyjamas and dressing gown. ‘He said to say goodbye to you.’
‘Daddy gone?’ Danny asked, navigating the last two steps.
‘Yes, love.’
Lucy was on the stairs behind him. ‘Danny thought he’d see his father before he left,’ she said. ‘That’s why he got ready so quickly.’
My heart went out to him, and of course I felt responsible for his father’s abrupt departure. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Daddy had to leave in a hurry.’ I couldn’t say he’d see him again soon, for the chances were he wouldn’t.
‘Daddy had to leave in a hurry?’ Danny repeated.
‘Yes, love.’
And the look of abject disappointment on his little face was far sadder than any tears he could have shed.
It wasn’t Danny’s bedtime yet, so I took him into the living room and read him one of his favourite books,
The Very Hungry Caterpillar
. Then he wanted to do his homework, so I heard him read and we practised the new words he had to learn. He didn’t mention his father again, but I guessed he was thinking and feeling plenty. Although Danny hadn’t heard the conversation I’d had with Richard, I thought there was a good chance he realized his father’s sudden departure had something to do with him. He’d been blamed for so much in the past, and I appreciated how easy it must have been for Richard and Reva to believe that Danny wasn’t aware of the dramas going on around him simply because he didn’t show his feelings. I slipped my arm around his shoulders and he didn’t pull away. After a few minutes he relaxed against me so that I could cuddle him properly. It was the first proper cuddle he’d let me give him, and I was sure it was a result of this latest rejection by his father.
The following morning, as soon as I returned home from taking Danny to school, I telephoned Jill and told her what had happened: that Reva had been unwell the day before, so Richard had brought Danny home, the conversation we’d had and how Richard had walked out. I’d already written a short note in my fostering log the previous evening, but I now told Jill the full story, as I should.
‘I don’t think Terri is even aware that Richard had a brother,’ Jill said. ‘I guess it explains some of Richard’s attitude towards Danny, although it’s been very detrimental to their relationship. I’ll phone Terri when we’ve finished and pass on what you’ve told me. I’ll also ask her if contact is going ahead on Saturday; given what Richard has said, it sounds like it might not. Either Terri or I will get back to you. And, Cathy, don’t beat yourself up. You did what you thought was right, and it might have brought Richard to his senses. It was worth a try.’
I thanked Jill, although it didn’t make me feel any better. I knew I hadn’t succeeded in getting through to Richard, and as a result of what I’d said he’d stormed out without saying goodbye to his son. I hoped Danny would get the chance to see his father again soon, but I wasn’t convinced. Richard had seemed resolute in his decision not to have Danny return home, in which case it was likely he and Reva would stop contact too.
Terri telephoned in the afternoon having spoken to Jill. She’d also telephoned Reva and confirmed that contact would be going ahead as usual on Saturday. Richard was away for a few days and Reva said she was recovered and well enough to have Danny. She told Terri she’d guessed something had happened at my house, because when Richard got home he’d hardly said a word and hadn’t wanted his dinner. Later she’d found him sitting alone in Danny’s room before he packed a weekend case and said he was going away for a few days. He’d left without saying where he was going.
‘I’m meeting with Reva next week,’ Terri continued. ‘I’ve asked her to tell Richard. It’s essential he’s there as we shall be discussing Danny’s long-term care arrangements, although I’m not holding my breath. Once I’ve seen Reva I’ll arrange a planning meeting. As Richard and Reva seem to be saying that Danny will stay in long-term care, and they’re cooperating, there’s no immediate need for me to take out a Care Order.’ This was normal practice.
Terri finished by asking how Danny was and then wishing us a nice weekend. We said goodbye. I didn’t have any firm plans for the weekend. I thought we’d see how the weather was and then decide.
That evening, as I waited in Danny’s bedroom while he fastidiously went about his night-time routine of meticulously folding his clothes and adjusting his duvet, soft-toy George, the lights and anything else that came into sight, I heard an owl hoot – ‘Twit’ – in the distance. Danny heard it too and frowned, puzzled. I explained to him that it was an owl calling out to another owl, and that if we heard a ‘twoo’ it was the other owl replying. We both listened hard and for some moments all we heard was the ‘twit’ of the first owl, then magically a second owl replied, ‘Twoo.’
Danny’s mouth dropped open in wonder.
‘Two owls,’ I said, smiling.
‘Two owls,’ Danny repeated.
I’d heard owls before in the distance at the rear of my house, but it was a rare occurrence, and I hadn’t heard a pair for many years. Danny went to the window to look out, but it was too dark to see. I explained to him that the owls were probably a long way off, but their calls could carry through the night air. As we listened their twit-twoos were repeated a few more times and then they stopped. Danny was disappointed, so I said they’d probably gone to sleep and eventually persuaded him into his bed.
‘Twit-twoo,’ he said, imitating the noise of the owls as he snuggled into bed. ‘Twit-twoo,’ he continued as he pulled the duvet over his head. ‘Twit-twoo, twit-twoo.’
Danny’s twit-twoos continued as I said goodnight and then came out of his room and closed the door. They followed me across the landing and downstairs, and continued for about half an hour. We all knew when Danny was asleep, for the twit-twoos abruptly stopped: ‘Twit-twoo’, then silence. I went up to check on him and as usual took the duvet away from his face. His lips were still pursed as though he was about to make a twit-twoo noise, and a faint smile had stayed on his face, so I guessed that he’d liked the owls very much indeed.
The following morning we were all woken by the sound of Danny twit-twooing from his bedroom, much to the irritation of Lucy, Paula and Adrian, who were hoping for a Saturday morning lie-in. I went into Danny’s room where I found him at the window looking out and twit-twooing for all he was worth.
‘Danny, owls only make that noise at night,’ I said. ‘And if they do make it during the day it’s very, very quiet, like this.’ I demonstrated a quieter version of twit-twoo and he copied me.
The more subdued twit-twoos continued as he dressed and washed and came downstairs. They stopped long enough for him to eat his breakfast, before resuming as we got ready to leave the house for contact. They continued for most of the car journey and I must admit that by the time I pulled onto the driveway at his house it was getting on my nerves, as I thought it would Reva’s if it went on all day.
‘Danny, love,’ I said as I cut the engine, ‘I think you should stop that noise now. Then tonight we can listen carefully to see if we can hear the owls again.’
He fell silent.
‘Good boy,’ I said.
Danny remained owl free as we walked across the drive, but as his mother opened the door he greeted her with a very loud, ‘Twit-twoo! Twit-twoo!’
‘Oh, Danny’s being an owl!’ she said good-humouredly. ‘Twit-twoo to you too.’
I explained to Reva how we’d heard the owls the night before. ‘I hope the novelty wears off soon,’ I said with a smile.
‘I’ve heard worse,’ she said easily. She seemed in a pleasant mood.
I asked her if she was fully recovered now from her illness and she said, ‘Yes. Thank you for asking. I’ll bring Danny back as usual at six o’clock.’
We said goodbye and I returned home.
When Reva brought Danny back that evening she was still in good spirits and surprised me by volunteering some feedback on what they’d done during the day.
‘As Danny liked the noise of the owls so much I took him to the bird sanctuary at Kettle Green,’ she said. ‘They have some rescued owls there.’
‘I know the place,’ I said. ‘Fantastic. Did it go well?’
‘Yes, quite well,’ she said. ‘It made a change. We usually stay at home on Saturday. I’ve told Danny I’ll take him out again next Saturday, if he’s good.’
‘That’ll be nice,’ I said. Although I was confused. Why make the effort to take Danny out now, after she and Richard had decided Danny would be staying in long-term care? Perhaps Reva was relieved that the decision had finally been made and was now starting to regain her old self-confidence. I invited her in but she said she wanted to go home, as there was a film on television she wanted to see.
‘Richard’s away, so I’m having a relaxing evening after a busy day,’ she said cheerfully.
Interestingly, Danny hadn’t immediately rushed off to see George but instead was standing in the hall watching his mother. When she said goodbye she reached out to hug him and very briefly he returned the gesture, before yelling, ‘George!’ and running to the back door.
‘I’ll see you on Tuesday then,’ Reva said with a smile.
‘Yes. Enjoy your evening.’
‘And you.’
Although it was good for Danny that Reva had taken him out and was planning to again, her surge of enthusiasm had really come too late. The level of contact would remain the same for now, but after the planning meeting it would gradually be reduced to allow Danny to loosen his bond with his parents in preparation for bonding with his forever family – the one who would look after him permanently. Whether it was my family or not would be for the social services to decide. If I was asked to keep Danny long term I’d have to discuss it with Adrian, Lucy and Paula first, for it was a huge commitment that would affect us all, although I thought I knew what their feelings would be. They were as attached to Danny as I was. However, social services might well decide that Danny’s long-term interest would best be served in a family where there were no other children, so he could receive more attention and the help he needed to reach his full potential. Whatever happened, though, contact would soon be reduced to a few times a year, and I hoped Reva (and Richard) were aware of that.
As Danny had had a full day out on Saturday, I kept Sunday reasonably relaxed. The weather was good so I took him to a local park for an hour or so in the morning. Lucy came with us; Paula and Adrian were out with their father. We returned home for lunch and then spent most of the afternoon in the garden, with George out of his run. When Danny and George had had their fill of chasing each other around the lawn they sat together as they often did, and Danny talked to George as he petted him. I was gardening but also furtively listening, and I heard Danny tell George about the owls he’d seen with his mother at the bird sanctuary. ‘One had a sore leg,’ he told George. ‘But don’t worry, it will soon be better.’ Which I assumed was what his mother had told him. Danny also told George that his mother had given him some sweets for being good and he was happy.