call to social services. Use my office.”
Barbara spent ten minutes on hold. Eventually she was put through to a woman in Child Protection called Jan, who was meant to be Troy’s caseworker. Only she wasn’t.
“It was actually one of my colleagues who visited the family. But she left back in September.”
“OK, so after she’d gone, who took over?”
“I’m not sure. Bear with me. . . . OK, I’m just downloading the family’s file. . . . Right, well, it would appear that nobody from the department has visited since their caseworker left.”
“You are kidding me. We are talking about an eight-year-old child and his baby sister—both of whom are on the at-risk register—and you’re telling me that nobody has visited since September. Are you people complete idiots?”
“Mrs. Stirling, please don’t take that tone with me.”
“What tone do you expect me to take? His mother has clearly hooked up with another maniac, and now her son has cigarette burns all over his arms and apparently he ended up in casualty over Christmas. I have no idea if the baby’s OK.”
“All right. I’ll get somebody over there.”
“When?”
“As soon as I can.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I will do my best to send somebody today.”
“Well, so far your best hasn’t been good enough.”
When she came off the phone, Barbara couldn’t help thinking she hadn’t been anything like scary enough.
“Any luck?” Sandra said, coming back into the office with a thick file of papers. She dropped the file onto a spare chair and sat down at her desk.
“They’re sending a social worker to see Tiffany.”
“When?”
“Possibly today, but who knows. Bloody social workers. They’re just so complacent. There’s no sense of urgency.”
“What do you expect? They’re overworked and understaffed. It’s not that they don’t care. They just get jaded.”
Barbara sighed. “I know. I do get it, but there’s a child in real danger here. God forbid something happens to him. Do you think I should go round to the house? Check that everything’s OK?”
“No. You can’t step on social services’ toes. We’ve informed them. Now we have to let them do their job.”
“That would be fine, if we could be sure they were going to do it.” Barbara stood up. “Right . . . I need to get going. I’ve got another class in a few minutes.”
It was then that Sandra asked if she could have a word. She took off her specs, laid them on the desk and began fiddling with one of the arms. When she started to speak, she hedged and fudged and made oblique references to official letters. Finally she got to the point. Barbara no longer had a job. She was surplus to requirements. Then Sandra got to the bit about how she’d been fighting this for months, how she’d gone to bat for Barbara, how hard she’d fought in her corner and how, in the end, her hands had been tied.
Barbara’s initial shock and anger turned to bewilderment.
“But I don’t understand.” She lowered herself back into the chair. “I thought I was good at what I did.”
“You are. You’re brilliant. I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but that doesn’t alter the fact that you’re one of my best teachers.”
“Then how could you let them get rid of me?”
“Barbara, you have to believe me when I say there was nothing I could do. It was a fait accompli. If it’s any comfort, they’re offering you a pretty good severance deal, and of course, you’ll be allowed to work until the end of term.”
“Well, yippee.”
“I can’t tell you how much I wish this wasn’t happening.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” By now tears were falling down Barbara’s cheeks. “I can’t believe it. I feel like I’m going to wake up in a moment.”
Sandra handed her a tissue. “I’m so sorry, Barbara. I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s not your fault. You have a job to do.” Barbara dabbed under her eyes. “Could you just do me one favor
Barbara spent ten minutes on hold. Eventually she was put through to a woman in Child Protection called Jan, who was meant to be Troy’s caseworker. Only she wasn’t.
“It was actually one of my colleagues who visited the family. But she left back in September.”
“OK, so after she’d gone, who took over?”
“I’m not sure. Bear with me. . . . OK, I’m just downloading the family’s file. . . . Right, well, it would appear that nobody from the department has visited since their caseworker left.”
“You are kidding me. We are talking about an eight-year-old child and his baby sister—both of whom are on the at-risk register—and you’re telling me that nobody has visited since September. Are you people complete idiots?”
“Mrs. Stirling, please don’t take that tone with me.”
“What tone do you expect me to take? His mother has clearly hooked up with another maniac, and now her son has cigarette burns all over his arms and apparently he ended up in casualty over Christmas. I have no idea if the baby’s OK.”
“All right. I’ll get somebody over there.”
“When?”
“As soon as I can.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I will do my best to send somebody today.”
“Well, so far your best hasn’t been good enough.”
When she came off the phone, Barbara couldn’t help thinking she hadn’t been anything like scary enough.
“Any luck?” Sandra said, coming back into the office with a thick file of papers. She dropped the file onto a spare chair and sat down at her desk.
“They’re sending a social worker to see Tiffany.”
“When?”
“Possibly today, but who knows. Bloody social workers. They’re just so complacent. There’s no sense of urgency.”
“What do you expect? They’re overworked and understaffed. It’s not that they don’t care. They just get jaded.”
Barbara sighed. “I know. I do get it, but there’s a child in real danger here. God forbid something happens to him. Do you think I should go round to the house? Check that everything’s OK?”
“No. You can’t step on social services’ toes. We’ve informed them. Now we have to let them do their job.”
“That would be fine, if we could be sure they were going to do it.” Barbara stood up. “Right . . . I need to get going. I’ve got another class in a few minutes.”
It was then that Sandra asked if she could have a word. She took off her specs, laid them on the desk and began fiddling with one of the arms. When she started to speak, she hedged and fudged and made oblique references to official letters. Finally she got to the point. Barbara no longer had a job. She was surplus to requirements. Then Sandra got to the bit about how she’d been fighting this for months, how she’d gone to bat for Barbara, how hard she’d fought in her corner and how, in the end, her hands had been tied.
Barbara’s initial shock and anger turned to bewilderment.
“But I don’t understand.” She lowered herself back into the chair. “I thought I was good at what I did.”
“You are. You’re brilliant. I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but that doesn’t alter the fact that you’re one of my best teachers.”
“Then how could you let them get rid of me?”
“Barbara, you have to believe me when I say there was nothing I could do. It was a fait accompli. If it’s any comfort, they’re offering you a pretty good severance deal, and of course, you’ll be allowed to work until the end of term.”
“Well, yippee.”
“I can’t tell you how much I wish this wasn’t happening.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” By now tears were falling down Barbara’s cheeks. “I can’t believe it. I feel like I’m going to wake up in a moment.”
Sandra handed her a tissue. “I’m so sorry, Barbara. I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s not your fault. You have a job to do.” Barbara dabbed under her eyes. “Could you just do me one favor
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