not a general foster carer? Is it the illness?’
He shook his head. ‘Well, okay, partly,’ he agreed. ‘But mainly because her behaviour apparently
can
be a little challenging. Nothing major – and you’ll know from experience that I don’t use the word lightly. She’s just a little undisciplined, it seems. And the feeling is – and this is strictly between you and me, okay? – that there’s been a general lack of discipline in her life since she’s been with Jean, and what with the complication of the Addison’s – well, you can see how easily a child with that sort of issue can become manipulative if allowed to.’
‘I get it,’ I said. ‘She needs some boundaries, then?’
‘I think that’s about the size of it. So it’s right up your street. No points, as I say, as this really is just temporary, but just do what the two of you do so well. And don’t let your heads swell, because I shouldn’t tell you this, but it was my boss who suggested we place her with you. He said, “If anyone can turn her around, the Watson family can. After all, look how well they did with Justin.”’
‘That’s nice,’ said Mike, though I could tell by his voice that he knew he was being sweet-talked.
‘And just as well I cracked on and got the room ready, then,’ I added. ‘Why don’t you take John up to see it, love, while I put the kettle on again.’
My head was whirring while they went up to admire my creative efforts. The poor child. How tragic. To lose her mum – to lose all she had in the world – and to have to cope with what sounded like such a debilitating condition on her own. I wondered if she ever got to see her mother in hospital at all, and when John and Mike came back downstairs I asked.
‘Yes, she does,’ John said. ‘Every six weeks or so, for an hour. Not that she gets anything out of it. She apparently gets really upset after each visit, which is why she doesn’t go there more often.’
‘Poor kid,’ I said. ‘It must be awful.’
‘The world we live in, I’m afraid, Casey,’ he said. ‘Hey, but a great job on the bedroom. Fit for a princess! Oh, and be prepared, because it’ll seem like she really
is
a little princess. She has quite an entourage, this one, in terms of a team. So you’ll need plenty of cups at the ready …’
When John had gone, Mike and I retreated to the living room, where we sat and talked about what was to come. A pointless exercise really, though one which we’d go on to repeat many times. You could never second-guess the future, particularly in our line of work.
‘See, though,’ I said. ‘It was worth me getting all that decorating done, wasn’t it? I’m like a walking girl guide motto. Be prepared!’
I said it in jest, but little did I know. Those prickles of mine didn’t happen for nothing. Because
nothing
could have prepared us for Sophia.
Buy the full ebook now.
Read an exclusive excerpt from Casey’s 3rd harrowing memoir
Little Prisoners
now.
Chapter 1
My husband, Mike, always bagged the window seat on planes, so I had to lean across him to watch ours land. He ruffled my hair.
‘Hey, look at you, eager beaver!’ he said. ‘Can’t wait to get home again, can you?’
We were returning from a glorious week in Corfu. Just the two of us. A rare break, and one we really needed. We’d just said goodbye to our most recent foster child, Sophia, and the impromptu holiday had been a real tonic. Sophia’s had been a two-week emergency stay that had stretched to almost a year. It had also been a pretty bumpy ride.
I snuggled up as far as my seat belt would let me, anxious to reassure him that that wasn’t the case. Well, not quite. ‘Oh, love,’ I said. ‘It’s been a
fantastic
holiday,
really
. But you know what I’m like. I’m missing the kids now. Especially baby Levi.’
Levi was our little grandson and one of the joys in our lives. ‘I know,’ Mike said, squeezing over so I could see out. ‘Me too, if I’m honest.
He shook his head. ‘Well, okay, partly,’ he agreed. ‘But mainly because her behaviour apparently
can
be a little challenging. Nothing major – and you’ll know from experience that I don’t use the word lightly. She’s just a little undisciplined, it seems. And the feeling is – and this is strictly between you and me, okay? – that there’s been a general lack of discipline in her life since she’s been with Jean, and what with the complication of the Addison’s – well, you can see how easily a child with that sort of issue can become manipulative if allowed to.’
‘I get it,’ I said. ‘She needs some boundaries, then?’
‘I think that’s about the size of it. So it’s right up your street. No points, as I say, as this really is just temporary, but just do what the two of you do so well. And don’t let your heads swell, because I shouldn’t tell you this, but it was my boss who suggested we place her with you. He said, “If anyone can turn her around, the Watson family can. After all, look how well they did with Justin.”’
‘That’s nice,’ said Mike, though I could tell by his voice that he knew he was being sweet-talked.
‘And just as well I cracked on and got the room ready, then,’ I added. ‘Why don’t you take John up to see it, love, while I put the kettle on again.’
My head was whirring while they went up to admire my creative efforts. The poor child. How tragic. To lose her mum – to lose all she had in the world – and to have to cope with what sounded like such a debilitating condition on her own. I wondered if she ever got to see her mother in hospital at all, and when John and Mike came back downstairs I asked.
‘Yes, she does,’ John said. ‘Every six weeks or so, for an hour. Not that she gets anything out of it. She apparently gets really upset after each visit, which is why she doesn’t go there more often.’
‘Poor kid,’ I said. ‘It must be awful.’
‘The world we live in, I’m afraid, Casey,’ he said. ‘Hey, but a great job on the bedroom. Fit for a princess! Oh, and be prepared, because it’ll seem like she really
is
a little princess. She has quite an entourage, this one, in terms of a team. So you’ll need plenty of cups at the ready …’
When John had gone, Mike and I retreated to the living room, where we sat and talked about what was to come. A pointless exercise really, though one which we’d go on to repeat many times. You could never second-guess the future, particularly in our line of work.
‘See, though,’ I said. ‘It was worth me getting all that decorating done, wasn’t it? I’m like a walking girl guide motto. Be prepared!’
I said it in jest, but little did I know. Those prickles of mine didn’t happen for nothing. Because
nothing
could have prepared us for Sophia.
Buy the full ebook now.
Read an exclusive excerpt from Casey’s 3rd harrowing memoir
Little Prisoners
now.
Chapter 1
My husband, Mike, always bagged the window seat on planes, so I had to lean across him to watch ours land. He ruffled my hair.
‘Hey, look at you, eager beaver!’ he said. ‘Can’t wait to get home again, can you?’
We were returning from a glorious week in Corfu. Just the two of us. A rare break, and one we really needed. We’d just said goodbye to our most recent foster child, Sophia, and the impromptu holiday had been a real tonic. Sophia’s had been a two-week emergency stay that had stretched to almost a year. It had also been a pretty bumpy ride.
I snuggled up as far as my seat belt would let me, anxious to reassure him that that wasn’t the case. Well, not quite. ‘Oh, love,’ I said. ‘It’s been a
fantastic
holiday,
really
. But you know what I’m like. I’m missing the kids now. Especially baby Levi.’
Levi was our little grandson and one of the joys in our lives. ‘I know,’ Mike said, squeezing over so I could see out. ‘Me too, if I’m honest.
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