The Silent Cry: Part 2 of 3: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control

Copyright

Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the children.

HarperElement

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First published by HarperElement 2016

FIRST EDITION

© Cathy Glass 2016

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available from the British Library

Cover image © Krasimira Petrova Shishkova/Trevillion Images (posed by model)

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Source ISBN: 9780008153717

Ebook Edition © February 2016 ISBN: 9780008156589

Version: 2016-01-19

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter Ten: The Devil’s Child

Chapter Eleven: Trying to Hurt Him

Chapter Twelve: Very Serious

Chapter Thirteen: Worry

Chapter Fourteen: Gina

Chapter Fifteen: Everley

Chapter Sixteen: Home Again

Chapter Seventeen: Progress

Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

About the Publisher

Chapter Ten
The Devil’s Child

School resumed on Monday after the half-term break and the air temperature rose dramatically by ten degrees, as it can do in England, catching everyone unawares and causing the weather reporter to pronounce a heat wave. The sun shone in a cloudless sky and the air was alive with birdsong and the scent of summer flowers. We didn’t need to wear our jackets to walk to school that morning.

Adrian was pleased to see his friends again and they ran around in the playground before school began. Parents chatted to each other, catching up on their news and asking each other if they’d had a nice holiday, and sharing what they’d done. Some families had spent the week at home just relaxing, pleased to be out of the school routine, while others had been more energetic, going out most days, and a couple of lucky families had been abroad for the week. As I talked to my friends I looked around for any sign of Laura, hoping she was now feeling well enough to bring Kim to school, but I couldn’t see her. Then just before the start of school Geraldine walked into the playground, with Kim beside her pushing the pram. Kim was looking around her, proud to be in charge of her baby brother, while Geraldine kept her gaze straight ahead, her face expressionless. I assumed therefore that Laura still didn’t feel up to coming out, or possibly she was just having a lie-in. I’d ask Geraldine how she was if I got the opportunity.

When the Klaxon sounded the children said goodbye to their parents and then lined up ready to go into school. The little groups of parents began dispersing, making their way towards the main gate. I looked over to where Geraldine had been standing. She was now walking briskly towards the exit. She was always one of the first out, slipping out ahead of everyone else, but this time her progress was slowed by the pram. I caught up with her as she waited for her turn to pass through the main gate.

‘Good morning,’ I said. Paula was holding my hand and toddling beside me.

Geraldine threw me her usual tight smile.

‘Baby,’ Paula said, pointing to the pram.

‘Yes. Baby Liam. How is he doing?’ I asked Geraldine. I could just see his little face over the cover, sleeping.

‘He’s well,’ she said.

‘And how’s Laura?’

‘These things take time.’

‘She didn’t feel up to coming here today then?’ I asked.

‘No.’

We were now through the main gate and on the pavement outside and it was clear Geraldine didn’t want to walk with us.

‘Give her my love,’ I said.

She nodded stiffly and then, head down, she set off, pushing the pram at a brisk pace.

‘Baby Liam,’ Paula said again.

‘Yes,’ I said absently. ‘With his grandmother.’

As we passed number 53 Paula and I both glanced at the house, but there was no one to be seen, and we continued our haltingly slow journey home. It didn’t matter that it took us ages; it was a beautiful day and Paula was finding plenty to interest her along the way: ants scurrying across pavements, a cat basking on a sun-drenched wall, front gardens with an array of brightly coloured flowers, all of which were wonderfully new and inspiring to the enquiring young mind of a small child. I wished I had Laura’s telephone number – I could have phoned her; just a friendly call to see how she was, for I didn’t feel I could simply arrive on her doorstep. The last time I’d visited, Geraldine had made it clear that she’d let me know when Laura was up to having visitors again.

Once home, Paula and I went straight into the garden and I played in the sandpit with her. It was nice being able to give her some one-to-one time again, and she enjoyed it. Mid-morning I settled her for a nap and continued my dissertation. I wondered if Samson’s social worker would telephone for feedback on Samson’s respite, but she didn’t. However, at lunchtime Shelley’s social worker telephoned to ask if I could foster a four-month-old baby they were bringing into care the next day. Reluctantly I had to say no, and I explained about my degree.

‘OK. Good luck with it,’ she said. ‘I’ll make a note on the whiteboard.’

‘Thank you.’

That afternoon Geraldine was in the playground again with Liam in the pram, and as usual she stood by herself with her eyes fixed firmly ahead. When the children came out I saw Kim pushing the pram towards the exit, but they were well ahead of us by the time we left the playground, as Paula wanted to walk. The next day was the same: Geraldine brought Liam to school in the morning and the afternoon. I didn’t know what this said about how Laura was feeling, but I had to believe that Geraldine and Laura’s husband, Andy, knew what was best for her, as they were close to her and had helped her through a difficult time after the birth of Kim. There’s a fine line between being friendly and neighbourly and being intrusive and a nosy parker, so I felt any further enquiry from me about Laura at that time would be unwelcome and probably resented. If Laura had been an old friend it would have been very different, but for now I just had to accept that Geraldine was in charge and knew best.

However, all that changed the following morning.

It was another fine day and we were walking to school. Paula, as usual, was in her stroller with the promise that she could walk back. As we passed number 53 the front door suddenly burst open. Kim ran out and down the path as Geraldine stood in the doorway. ‘Gran says can you take me to school today,’ Kim said. ‘She has to stay with Mum.’

‘Yes, of course,’ I said. I looked towards the open door, but Geraldine gave a cursory wave and closed it.

‘Is your mum all right?’ I asked Kim.

‘I don’t know. She had a bad night. Gran didn’t want to leave her alone, and my daddy had to go to work. We’ve been looking out for you.’

‘Is your mum sick?’ I asked, worried. I had no idea what a ‘bad night’ meant in this context.

‘Not really,’ Kim said, and looked uncomfortable. I knew not to question her further. She was only seven and I didn’t want to place her in an awkward position by asking questions that she couldn’t or didn’t want to answer.

‘I gave Liam his bottle this morning,’ Kim said proudly, brightening, as she fell into step beside us.

‘Well done. That was a big help,’ I said.

‘I don’t like helping to change his nappy, though,’ she said, pulling a face.

‘Yuk!’ Adrian agreed. ‘She still poos in a nappy,’ he said, pointing at Paula, and dissolved into laughter. He was at an age when he and his friends found toilet talk hilarious.

‘Baby Liam?’ Paula asked, leaning out of her stroller for a better look at Kim.

‘Hi,’ Kim said sweetly. ‘Liam’s at home.’

She took hold of Paula’s hand and we continued down the street with Kim on one side of the stroller and Adrian on the other. Adrian and Kim began talking about school and then a popular children’s television programme, while I thought about Laura. Why didn’t Geraldine want to leave her alone? It didn’t sound good, and I thought maybe this was the excuse I needed to call in on the way home.

Once in the playground I let Paula out of the stroller and she immediately crouched down and began examining the tarmac, poking her finger at a couple of loose chippings. It’s incredible what little ones can spot and play with. A mother approached me with a child of a similar age to Kim. I knew her slightly from seeing her in the playground.

‘You’ve brought Kim,’ she said. ‘Is Laura all right? I’m Fran. Our girls are friends. How is she?’

‘I’m not sure,’ I said honestly. ‘Her mother-in-law asked me to bring Kim to school this morning.’

‘I’m worried about her,’ Fran confided. ‘I’ve tried phoning and I’ve left messages, but she hasn’t got back to me.’ The two girls took skipping ropes from their bags and began skipping.

‘I’m thinking of stopping by her house on the way back this morning,’ I said. ‘We live in the same street. I’ll tell her you were asking after her.’

‘Oh yes, please do.’ She hesitated. ‘I hope I haven’t done anything to upset her. We were both relatively new to the area and seemed to hit it off as friends. But I haven’t seen or heard from her since she was in the playground that morning weeks ago.’

‘I’m sure it’s nothing like that,’ I said.

Clearly I didn’t know how much Laura had confided in Fran, and Geraldine’s words about not discussing Laura in the playground rang in my ears – although, of course, we were only concerned for her wellbeing.

‘Give her my best wishes,’ Fran said. ‘And tell her I hope to hear from her soon.’

‘I will.’

The Klaxon sounded and I said goodbye to both Adrian and Kim and watched them line up. ‘We’re going to see baby Liam on the way home,’ I told Paula, taking her hand.

‘Baby Liam,’ she said and chuckled excitedly.

I wasn’t excited, I was very apprehensive, partly from having to confront the formidable Geraldine again, but also because I wasn’t convinced I was doing the right thing in just dropping by. Perhaps I was turning into the busybody up the road – ‘You know, that woman, the foster carer who thinks she knows everything.’ But on the other hand I had a gut feeling that I should stop by and try to see Laura, and sometimes I think it’s best if we follow our instincts or intuition.

With the promise of visiting baby Liam, Paula walked faster than usual and didn’t stop to examine every little thing that caught her eye. ‘Baby Liam,’ she said every so often with a smile.

‘Yes, I hope we can see him.’ For obviously we might not be invited in.

Undaunted, Paula continued at her best toddling pace along the street until we arrived at Laura’s house. ‘Baby Liam,’ she announced, trying to open the gate.

I lifted the latch, opened the gate and we went up the front path. I parked the stroller in the porch and pressed the doorbell. I felt my pulse speed up a notch and my stomach tighten. I had no idea what to expect, and as we waited for the bell to be answered I prepared myself for most eventualities, including the door not being opened or opened and then shut in my face – most eventualities except … Geraldine answering the door in tears.

‘Oh. I’m sorry,’ I said, embarrassed and completely taken aback. ‘I’ve called at a bad time.’

She looked at me, a tissue pressed to her lips and despair in her eyes. I didn’t know what to do. My instinct was to hug and comfort her, but given her previous hostility I didn’t think she’d want my comfort, yet I couldn’t just walk away.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ I asked awkwardly. Paula looked at her, also concerned.

Geraldine shook her head and wiped her eyes, but fresh tears formed. Usually so capable, determined, even hard, her vulnerability shocked and deeply saddened me. With a heartfelt sigh she turned from the door and walked down the hall, leaving the front door wide open. I assumed she wanted me to go in, so I helped Paula over the doorstep and then once in the hall I closed the door. The house was quiet – unnaturally quiet considering there was another adult and a baby inside. There was a stale smell of burning as though food had caught fire. Geraldine had disappeared down the hall and into the living room. Still holding Paula’s hand, I followed her. Paula had fallen silent, perhaps sensing the atmosphere.

In the living room Geraldine was standing with her back to me, gazing through the glass patio doors. There was no sign of Liam or Laura, but there were a few of his soft toys propped on the sofa and, dropping my hand, Paula went over to them. I crossed the room and stood beside Geraldine. She was staring, unseeing, down the garden.

‘Is there anything I can get you?’ I asked after a moment. ‘A drink of water or a cup of tea?’

She wiped her eyes and shook her head. ‘It’ll take more than tea to put this lot right, Cathy,’ she said.

She’d never used my name before and I sensed a shift in her attitude towards me. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I asked gently, touching her arm.

‘It wouldn’t do any good,’ she said, her eyes filling again.

Then a terrible thought struck me. ‘Are Liam and Laura all right? They’re not hurt?’

‘No. Laura is in bed upstairs and Liam is asleep in his cot in the front room.’

I remained standing beside Geraldine, not sure what to say or do but feeling I should stay. Paula began playing silently with the soft toys as Geraldine and I gazed down the garden, the joy of the summer outside now at odds with the unhappiness inside. Sometimes silence is more empathetic than words, so I stood quietly beside Geraldine, close but not touching. I sensed she wanted to talk, possibly to confide; that was why she’d left the front door open for us to come in. With her guard down she was less hostile to me, but she was finding it difficult, almost impossible, to know where to begin. I’d seen this before in children I’d fostered who were trying to disclose and tell me about something dreadful that had happened and which they’d kept a secret for a long time. They needed to tell but were fearful of the consequences, so I did now what I did then and waited until they found the strength to start.

After some minutes Geraldine took a deep breath and, still looking straight ahead, said faintly, ‘We moved Liam’s cot downstairs last week. Andy and I are taking it in turns to sleep on the sofa in the front room so we can keep an eye on him. It’s no longer safe for him to be upstairs with his mother.’

An icy chill ran down my spine. ‘Why not?’ I asked gently.

‘Because Laura thinks he’s the devil’s child. My little grandson, the work of the devil! I ask you, Cathy, it would be laughable if she didn’t believe it.’ Her face crumpled and she wiped away fresh tears.

I’d heard many terrible disclosures in the past from abused children and I knew it was important that I hid my shock and remained outwardly calm and in control to give them the strength they needed to continue.

‘Shall we sit down?’ I suggested.

She nodded, and we crossed to the sofa, where I moved Paula to one end to make room for us. ‘Good girl,’ I said quietly to her, for she was looking worried.

Geraldine sat upright on the sofa and stared straight ahead. ‘It’s worse this time,’ she said. ‘Far worse than when Laura had Kim. She seems to be losing touch with reality, and she’s started threatening me.’

‘Laura is threatening you?’ I asked, shocked.

‘Yes. She doesn’t want me here. She resents me, but she can’t manage on her own, and Andy has to work. She rarely sleeps. She’s up most of the night and often doesn’t know where she is. She’s started having weird waking dreams, like she’s hallucinating. She wanders around. Last night I smelled burning and found her in the kitchen, making toast. It was two o’clock in the morning and she kept saying she didn’t like the toast I made, as I didn’t toast it enough. So she kept putting the same slice of toast back into the toaster until eventually it caught fire. I threw it in the sink and she became aggressive. I had to fetch Andy to put her back to bed. I try not to wake him, but she could have burned the house down.’ She took a deep breath and wiped her nose. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. It’s all right,’ I said, touching her arm.

‘She’s started doing other irrational things and talking a lot of nonsense,’ Geraldine continued, keeping her eyes down. ‘Liam has a birthmark on his back. It’s not very big, but Laura read somewhere that in ancient times they thought birthmarks were put there by the devil, so the child belongs to the devil and does his work. It’s ridiculous, obviously, but she seems to believe it. She’s wary of him and I’m frightened she could do him harm. You won’t tell anyone, will you?’ she said, suddenly turning to me.

‘No, of course not, but Laura does need help. More than you and Andy can give her. What did the doctor say?’

‘She won’t go. She hasn’t been. Now she’s got worse she doesn’t think there is anything wrong with her. When she was just depressed she agreed to tell the doctor, but now she refuses to believe there is anything the matter with her. She says we’re ganging up on her and making it up.’

‘She was going to talk to the doctor at her six-week postnatal check-up. Did that not happen?’

‘I don’t think so. I took her to the appointment, but she wouldn’t let me in when she saw the doctor. I can’t force her to tell a doctor. And to be honest I’m worried that the same thing could happen to her as to her mother. She spent over six months in a psychiatric hospital following the birth of Laura.’

‘Oh, I see,’ I said. ‘Laura mentioned her mother had suffered from postnatal depression, but I didn’t realize it was that severe.’

‘We don’t talk about it. Laura’s parents didn’t have any more children after Laura,’ Geraldine said. ‘She and Andy weren’t going to have another one after Kim. But then it happened and we all hoped for the best. I read somewhere that because a woman has been depressed after having one baby it doesn’t mean it will happen again. But it has. And it’s getting worse.’ Geraldine shrugged with despair. ‘I thought we’d be able to cope and that I could help them through like I did last time. I’ve only done what I thought was right, Cathy, but it seems I’ve made things worse – far worse.’ Her face creased and, holding her head in her hands, she wept openly.

Now I had no hesitation in putting my arm around her shoulders and comforting her. Gone was the stern-faced, domineering mother-in-law who was firmly in charge and knew best no matter what, and in her place was a frail, broken woman, overwhelmed by the crisis unfolding in her family and not knowing what to do.

I lightly rubbed her back and also took hold of Paula’s hand, for she was looking at Geraldine as though she, too, might cry. ‘It’s all right, love,’ I said gently to her.

‘I’m sorry,’ Geraldine said, raising her head. ‘I’m upsetting everyone.’

‘There’s no need to be sorry,’ I said. ‘You have a right to be upset. You’ve been carrying a huge burden.’

She wiped her eyes. ‘Thank you for taking Kim to school this morning. Was she all right?’

‘Yes. She met up with a friend. I stayed until it was time for them to go in.’

‘I couldn’t leave Laura alone this morning. She was in such a state. And Andy had to go to work.’

‘I’m happy to help any time,’ I said. ‘I can bring Kim home from school this afternoon if you wish. But I think Laura needs to see a doctor. If she won’t go to the surgery then perhaps you could arrange a home visit.’

Geraldine shrugged despondently and reached for another tissue. ‘I don’t know. I’d have to explain to the receptionist what was so urgent.’

‘The surgery staff are bound by confidentiality,’ I said. ‘Or, if you don’t want to talk to the receptionist, you could make an appointment to see the doctor yourself.’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ a voice suddenly said.

Geraldine and I started as Laura came into the room, barefoot and in her dressing gown.

‘Oh, you’re up,’ Geraldine said, shocked and immediately standing.

‘Yes. Is that allowed?’ Laura asked caustically. ‘I’ll shower and dress later.’

‘How are you?’ I asked, feeling I had to say something.

‘Very well, thank you. So there’s absolutely no need for me to see a doctor.’

And my first impression was that Laura did indeed look well and completely normal.