'Now to the matter of contact,' Edna said. 'We will be reducing it to once a month straight away for Donna and the boys to see their mother.'

'Good,' I said.

'It will still be supervised, but I will be handing over the supervision to someone else. Once Donna and the boys go on to permanency it will be three times a year.'

I nodded. This was usual for children who wouldn't be returning home. Otherwise, if they were continually seeing their natural parents there was less chance of them settling and bonding with their 'forever families', as they are known.

'Once the children have moved I shall be arranging extra sibling contact,' Edna continued. 'It's not necessary now, as Donna and the boys see each other every day at school. Does Donna want to see Chelsea and the baby?'

'I'm not sure. I told her the news and suggested we bought a card, but Donna said she would think about it. She's still thinking about it as far as I know.'

Edna smiled. 'OK. I'll talk to her about that in a minute. I've brought the photograph.' She placed her cup and saucer on the coffee table and, opening her briefcase, pa.s.sed me the photograph.

Chelsea was sitting in a chair beside her hospital bed; the iron bedhead and white cotton pillows were to the left of the photo. Baby Cindy, wrapped in a white blanket, was asleep on Chelsea's lap with her head resting on Chelsea's arm. Chelsea wasn't looking down at the baby as many new mothers do but stared into the camera. Her young, vulnerable face seemed to say it all: a mixture of surprise, shock and distance, as though she was struggling to come to terms with what had happened. She looked so lost that my heart went out to her. If ever a girl had needed looking after it was Chelsea.

'She's agreed to go into a mother and baby unit,' Edna said.

'Good,' I said, handing back the photograph. 'Hopefully Chelsea will be able to keep her baby.'

'Hopefully,' Edna repeated. 'I'll see Donna now then, please, Cathy.'

I went through to the front room and told Donna that Edna wanted to see her, and I also told the girls to say goodnight to each other, as it was Paula's bedtime. Leaving Edna with Donna in the lounge, I took Paula upstairs.

'Is Donna staying?' Paula whispered as we turned the landing, for even Paula, at her age, knew that the final court hearing meant decisions.

'Yes, for now,' I said. 'The judge has decided she won't be returning home.'

'Good,' Paula said. 'Her mum is horrible.'

I perched on the edge of the bath and looked at Paula as she washed her face. 'You know, love, Donna's mother wasn't born horrible. I know she's done bad things to Donna but she hasn't always been like that. Perhaps her mother wasn't nice to her. Since Donna has been with us we've shown her a different way to behave so that if she has children one day, she'll know how to treat them and love them properly.'

'Donna will make a good mother,' Paula said, drying her face on the towel. 'She's a kind person. She doesn't get angry with me any more.'

'That's right, love. And she was never really angry with you. It just came out that way.'

'I won't get angry with my children, and Donna won't get angry with hers,' Paula said decisively.

'I know, love, you are both very kind people. And I love you!'

Giving Paula a big hug, I then went with her to her bedroom and saw her into bed. I had just started reading a bedtime story when I heard Edna call from the hall. 'I'm off now, Cathy.'

'I'll finish your story in a minute,' I said to Paula, and kissing her forehead, I went downstairs.

'Everything all right?' I asked Edna as I met her in the hall. Donna was still in the lounge.

'Yes, Donna is fine. I've explained the judge's decision, and given her the photograph. She doesn't want to see Chelsea yet, so I've told her to tell you if she changes her mind. Now I must be getting back to my hubby.'

It was after 7.30 p.m. and I doubted Edna would have finished yet; having spent all morning in court and away from her office, she would doubtless have some reports to write. I opened the front door and wished her goodnight.

'Oh yes,' she said, suddenly remembering something. 'About the therapy.' She lowered her voice so that Donna couldn't hear from the lounge. 'I feel it should wait until after her move. It would be too much for Donna to begin therapy and cope with a move to permanency.'

'Yes,' I agreed. 'And there's no urgency for therapy now. Donna is doing so well.'

'I know,' Edna said with a smile. 'Thanks to you. Goodnight and G.o.d bless, Cathy.'

'And you, Edna.'

Chapter Twenty-two.

Marlene

Life continued as usual for us while the 'family finding' for Donna went on unseen in the background (and unknown to Donna, Adrian or Paula). I felt very sad sometimes as I watched Donna going about a task, or playing with Paula and Adrian, aware that at some point she would no longer be with us. Edna asked me to send her a full-face photograph of Donna, which was easy, for I had plenty to choose from. This would be used to 'advertise' Donna in fostering magazines, and also on flyers sent to approved foster carers. Beside her photograph would be a small piece about her, and the type of family that was wanted. Advertising a child is an emotive issue but has been shown to be highly effective in finding the right family for a child - for how else can prospective parents be paired with children in need of a family? - although the child is never aware they are being 'advertised'.

I expected the family finding to take some time for Donna, as the social services were looking for quite a distinctive family - black or dual heritage, and with no younger children - which would obviously limit the number of applicants. This was fine with me, for while I recognised Donna needed to be settled with her forever family as soon as possible for her own good, on a purely selfish level, I was pleased we had the extra time with her. It was the middle of September, and Donna had been with us for over a year, when Edna phoned me out of the blue to say Family Finders had found a good match for Donna, and could I attend the 'matching meeting' scheduled for the following Wednesday.

'Er, yes,' I said, quickly coming to terms with what I was being told. 'Yes, of course.' The matching meeting was to make sure the carers, or carer, who'd come forward, wanting to parent Donna, were the most appropriate, before the match was approved by the 'permanency panel' and Donna was told. Having been part of this process before, I knew how it worked, and also that it did work: mistakes were very rare.

'Her name is Marlene,' Edna said. 'She's lovely, but I'll let you be the judge of that.' Which was all I would know about Donna's new carer until I met her at the meeting.

The children had returned to school for the autumn term, the week before - Adrian was in the first year of his new grammar school, Paula had gone up a year in her junior school and Donna was in the final year of her junior school. The matching meeting was scheduled for 10.00 a.m., at the social services office, and I made my way up the various flights of stairs towards the small committee room with no small amount of trepidation. For when all was said and done I was about to meet the person who would be taking over from me and would eventually become as close to Donna as I had been.

Going into the committee room, I smiled at the a.s.sembled group, then took a chair at the large square wooden table. Joyce, from the permanency team, whom'd I'd met before, was chairing and opened the meeting by asking us to introduce ourselves. Apart from Joyce, Jill, Edna and myself, there was Marlene, her link worker Carla, and Lisa, a trainee student social worker who would be taking the minutes. Marlene was sitting directly opposite me, and I eyed her suspiciously. She was certainly an attractive and elegant-looking woman, but would she make a good mother for Donna? I tried to remain objective as I scrutinised her, without appearing rude. Her brown skin was almost the same as Donna's, and her hair was black and well oiled, as I'd tried to do for Donna. Her large dark eyes seemed warm as she looked at me and smiled. I guessed she was in her early fifties, and she wore a light pink jumper and black skirt. She sat upright, with her hands folded loosely in front of her on the table. When she spoke, she had the faintest hint of an accent, a milder version of Granny Bajan's Caribbean accent. She must have felt self-conscious, for the meeting centred on her, but she didn't show it and appeared calm and dignified.

Having introduced ourselves, Joyce explained the purpose of the meeting for the minutes, then asked Edna to give us an update on Donna. Edna would have met Marlene at least once prior to this meeting, as well as having read Marlene's details and discussing her application to foster Donna with Joyce from the permanency team. Likewise Marlene would have had the chance to read the details about Donna, and would also have had the opportunity of discussing these with Edna and Joyce. Edna was being asked to bring Marlene up to date, therefore, adding to what Marlene already knew about Donna.

Edna looked at Marlene as she talked about Donna's continued progress - during the summer holidays and now she had returned to school. She described Donna's personality, elaborated on her background before she came into care and described some of the problems we'd encountered in the early days, all of which Marlene would have had some knowledge of from her previous meeting with Edna and Joyce. 'Donna wants to be a nurse when she grows up,' Edna finished by saying.

I nodded and smiled. 'She talks of nothing else,' I said, 'and is always administering medicine to her dolls.' Everyone smiled. The mood of the meeting was relaxed and informal, for this was about the beginning of a new family where Donna had a new mother and Marlene a daughter, unlike some of the meetings I attend, which are very serious and formal and deal with abuse before a child is brought into care.

'Perhaps you would like to continue?' Joyce asked me.

I nodded and took Donna's Life Story book from my bag and pa.s.sed it across the table to Marlene. I had begun the book when Donna had first arrived and it was now bulging with photographs, paper memorabilia such as cinema tickets and school merit certificates, and with a handwritten commentary from me. I compiled a Life Story book for all the children I looked after and it was an important and ongoing piece of work that the child took with them. For unlike one's own children, who are continuously surrounded by their past in the form of other family members and their shared memories, once the fostered child had left, particularly if they didn't keep in touch, the Life Story book was the only evidence they had of their time with us, together with their own memories.

Marlene turned the pages as I spoke. I began by saying, as Edna had, how much Donna had improved since she'd been with us, and how loved she was by my family. I went over the problems we'd encountered, and how I had dealt with them. It was no good giving Marlene an unrealistic account, for that would have been dishonest, and also left her ill-prepared for any problems that might arise, particularly in the early days when they were still getting to know each other. I told Marlene why I thought Donna had behaved as she had, setting it in the context of her past. So I described her bullying of Adrian and Paula as a result of the bullying and degradation Donna had endured in all the years she'd lived with her mother.

'So when my niece and nephew visit I should keep an eye on them?' Marlene asked, glancing up from the Life Story book. 'They are five and six years old.'

'To begin with, yes, I think so,' I confirmed, and Edna nodded. 'We haven't had an incident for nearly four months now, and I'm sure we won't have another one, but it's as well to be cautious to begin with.'

'Donna could become a little unsettled by the move,' Edna said, 'although I'd put money on it not happening again.'

Apart from any personal responsibility I felt to be honest with Marlene, it was exactly because of the possibility of this type of situation that Marlene had described (her niece and nephew visiting) that it was so important for Edna and me to be honest. There have been incidents recorded where information had been withheld from a carer by a social worker and injury had resulted.

'Does Donna still tear up paper?' Marlene asked with a small smile.

I returned her smile. 'Yes, and I haven't stopped her, although she knows not to do it when visiting other people's houses.'

'It's something that can be addressed at therapy,' Edna said, 'which I intend to start as soon as Donna has settled after the move. I have the funding approved for it.'

Marlene nodded. 'That should help.' She turned the last few pages of the Life Story book and pa.s.sed it back across the table. 'Donna looks a lovely child and has obviously been very happy with you. I hope I can make her as happy. My family are looking forward to meeting her. I have two grown-up children, a girl and a boy in their twenties, and lots of nieces and nephews. We have large family gatherings most weekends, and I'm sure Donna will get along well with my niece Kerry, who is the same age as Donna. I visit Barbados every year. My grandfather was born in Barbados and I have aunts and cousins who still live there.'

'Really?' I said, surprised and delighted. 'Donna's grandmother is from Barbados. Will you be taking Donna when you visit?'

'Of course,' Marlene said, slightly taken aback that there could be any suggestion she wouldn't. 'Has she ever been before?'

'No,' Edna said. 'Her gran visits for some of the winter, but Donna has never been.'

'She'll love it,' Marlene said. 'We stay with my family and there's always a house full of relatives and neighbours. It's like one big party, the whole time.'

'I'd love it too,' I said, laughing. 'Can I come?'

'And me,' Edna and Joyce chorused.

I was quickly warming to Marlene. She appeared a naturally kind and open person, who had obviously carefully thought through her application to look after Donna long term and the commitment and responsibility that would entail. As Marlene spoke, I learned that she had been fostering for five years, but they had all been short-term placements and she really felt she had more to offer a child on a permanent basis. We talked about Donna's self-image in respect of her race, which Marlene was in an ideal position to address: her mother was black, and her father was white British, although both her parents were now dead. Marlene had no children at home, so she could give Donna all the attention and help she required. She worked part-time as a psychiatric nurse with flexible hours that could be adjusted, so she could take Donna to school and collect her.

Marlene lived fifteen miles from where I did, so us keeping in touch wasn't going to be a problem. Edna had already emphasised, both at the meeting and when she'd met Marlene previously, that it was important we kept in touch with Donna, particularly in the months straight after the move. 'Donna mustn't in any way feel that she has been rejected again,' Edna said. 'And obviously once this match has been approved by the permanency panel I shall speak to Donna and explain the reasons for the move to her myself.'

By the end of the meeting I was certain that Marlene was the right person for Donna. Although I would still be very sad to see Donna go, I had to admit it was a perfect match; indeed, if someone had drawn up a profile of the most suitable person to be Donna's mum, it would have been Marlene. Joyce concluded the meeting, firstly by asking everyone if they had any more questions, which no one did. Then she went round the table asking each of us if we were happy for this match to go before the permanency panel, which would sit again on 5 October. Marlene answered first and said a loud and very positive 'Yes. Absolutely. I'm looking forward to meeting Donna' (which she wouldn't do until after the panel had approved the placement). Marlene's link worker said yes, she felt it was an excellent match, as did Edna, Joyce, Jill and Lisa.

I looked across the table at Marlene as I said, 'Yes, I think Donna will be very happy with you. She's a lucky girl.'

'Thank you, Cathy,' Marlene replied, embarra.s.sed. 'That's very kind of you.'

Joyce wound up the meeting by saying we would all meet again on 6 October, after the permanency panel had given their approval, to plan the move. This was normal procedure: the introduction of Marlene and Donna would be carefully structured. It was likely to take place over a two-week period, resulting in the move at the end of that time if everything was all right, which I felt sure it would be.

As the meeting closed and everyone began to leave, I said goodbye to Jill, who would be visiting us the following week, and I also took the opportunity of asking Edna how Chelsea was. I hadn't spoken to Edna for a couple of weeks, and the last time she had visited us, three weeks before, she'd said that Chelsea and Cindy were doing well in the mother and baby unit. Donna still hadn't wanted to visit her.

'Yes, Chelsea is doing fine,' Edna confirmed. 'Whether she can continue as she has been doing when she moves to the flat remains to be seen.'

'She's leaving the mother and baby unit then?'

'In a month. I'm not on the case now that I'm part-time and semi-retired. But my colleague has found her a nice little one-bedroom flat on View Estate, and will be closely monitoring her and the baby. She wanted to keep Chelsea in the unit for longer, but Chelsea said she would run away if they didn't find her a flat soon.'

'Hopefully Chelsea has learned enough to look after the baby,' I said.

'Hopefully. It's whether she can look after herself as well, and keep the flat clean. At sixteen I'm not sure I could.'

'No,' I agreed. 'Nor me.'

'My hubby says I have to stop worrying about her now she's no longer my responsibility. I'm continuing part-time until Donna and the boys are settled, then we're off to stay with our children in Scotland for a month.'

'Lovely,' I said. 'And what about Rita? Isn't her baby due now? It must be soon.'

Edna's face fell. 'She had it last week.' I looked surprised. 'I haven't said anything to Donna because I didn't want to worry her. Rita has disappeared.'

'What? With the baby?'

Edna nodded. 'She had a little girl. Later the same day Rita walked out of the hospital with the baby. My colleague has taken out an Emergency Protection Order, and the police are looking for her.' She sighed. 'Goodness knows where she's staying. I suppose I should tell Donna - she has a right to know.'

'Do you want me to tell her, Edna? I could keep it low key and rea.s.sure her?'

'Yes, please, Cathy, would you? Give Donna my love and tell her I'll phone when I have any news.'

'Will do. I'll put the emphasis on how well Chelsea is doing.'

'Thanks, Cathy.'

When I told Donna that evening about her mother's baby and subsequent disappearance she shrugged. 'Typical,' she said. 'I hope they find the baby soon.'

'They will,' I rea.s.sured her.

'At least I'm out of all that now,' she added, and that was all Donna said.

A week later Edna phoned to say that Rita and the baby had been found. Apparently Rita had eventually returned to her house, and a neighbour had heard a baby crying virtually non-stop for twenty-four hours and alerted the social services. The colleague of Edna's who was now dealing with the case went to the house with the police and found it filthy and cold. Rita was drunk in bed with the baby beside her. The baby's nappy was overflowing with faeces, having not been changed for days. On being admitted to hospital the baby was found to have lost weight and be dehydrated. Edna said that as soon as the baby had regained the weight and was well enough to be discharged from hospital she would go straight to a foster carer. It didn't mean there wasn't any chance of Rita having her baby back. The childcare proceeding would begin all over again, and Rita would be a.s.sessed to see if she could parent the child, which I had to admit looked far from hopeful. As I had done so often since I'd begun fostering, I wished I could have waved a magic wand and made everything OK, so that Rita could look after her baby; but realistically only early intervention and education can stop the cycle of abuse and neglect.

Chapter Twenty-three.

Lilac

The permanency panel approved Marlene's application to foster Donna, and on 6 October, Edna, Joyce, Marlene, her link worker, Jill, Lisa who was taking the minutes and I once more sat around the table in the committee room to plan Donna's introduction to Marlene, and ultimately her move. Edna had arranged to visit us at 5.30 that evening to tell Donna, and asked me not to say anything to her prior to this.

'How is Donna?' Marlene asked eagerly at the start of the meeting.

'Very well,' I said. 'Her school work has improved tremendously this term.'