attractively in a sari came in and I smiled at her, introduced myself and then ticked her name off the list. She sat alone at one of the front tables and watched me as I sorted through my paperwork. I smiled at her again and then she beckoned me over as though wanting to say something. I leaned forward so I was within earshot, and she said quietly, ‘Are you fostering Zeena?’
I drew back slightly and tried to hide my shock, but my mouth had gone dry and my heart was drumming loudly. ‘Pardon?’ I said, pretending I hadn’t heard.
‘Are you fostering Zeena P—?’ she said again. ‘She’s fourteen and has run away from home. Her parents are sick with worry. She needs to contact them and go home.’
‘No, sorry. I can’t help you,’ I said, forcing a small smile.
I picked up my notes and pretended to read them again as I fought to regain my composure. How on earth did she know Zeena was with me? And what was that about Zeena running away and not being in touch? Zeena had seen her mother on Friday and she’d been aggressive and rude to her. Yet clearly we were talking about the same child.
The last of the carers came in and I closed the door and tried to rein in my thoughts. Picking up my notes, I began by welcoming everyone to the training, and then went through what’s referred to as ‘housekeeping’, which includes where the fire exits are, a reminder to turn off mobiles, confidentiality and a timetable for the day. As I spoke I avoided meeting the woman’s gaze, although I felt her eyes on me. My heart was still racing and my hands felt clammy, but once I began the PowerPoint presentation and everyone was concentrating on the screen it became a little easier. I stood to the side of the room and allowed my gaze to wander as I talked. Who was the woman and how did she know Zeena? Was she a relative, a member of her extended family and part of the Asian network Zeena had spoken of? I had no idea, but I needed to find out. This could be a huge threat to Zeena’s security.
Somehow I got through the next two hours and then at noon I broke the training for lunch. I reminded everyone that they needed to return by one o’clock for the afternoon session, and slipping the registration list into my bag I left the room. I went upstairs to where the social workers had their desks. It was a large open-plan office and I looked around for Edith, my supervising social worker (sometimes called a link worker), but I couldn’t see her. I saw another social worker I knew and she looked over and smiled. I went to her desk. ‘I’m looking for Edith or Tara,’ I said.
‘Edith has gone on leave, but Tara should be around somewhere,’ she said.
She, too, scanned the room and at that moment the double doors swung open and Tara came in, carrying a stack of folders.
‘Thank you,’ I said, and went over.
‘Hi. What are you doing here?’ Tara said, greeting me with a smile.
‘I’m running some training today,’ I said. ‘But I need to ask you something.’ I took the registration list from my bag. ‘This lady, Mrs Parvin –’ I said, pointing to her name on the sheet. ‘Could she know I’m looking after Zeena?’
‘She certainly shouldn’t,’ Tara said, shocked.
I explained what had happened.
‘I’ll see her supervising social worker straight away and find out what’s going on,’ Tara said. ‘Everyone here who’s working on Zeena’s case knows her whereabouts are to be kept secret. Is Zeena at school?’
‘Yes.’
‘Norma telephoned me this morning and said Zeena wasn’t able to tell her anything on Friday,’ Tara said.
‘That’s right. Norma said she’d been scared into not telling, and she hasn’t said anything to me either.’
Tara nodded. ‘How was Zeena over the weekend?’
‘She felt safer staying in, but we had a pleasant weekend.’ I gave her a brief résumé of our weekend.
‘And Zeena doesn’t need anything?’
‘No. I’ve asked her.’
‘OK. Let me find out
I drew back slightly and tried to hide my shock, but my mouth had gone dry and my heart was drumming loudly. ‘Pardon?’ I said, pretending I hadn’t heard.
‘Are you fostering Zeena P—?’ she said again. ‘She’s fourteen and has run away from home. Her parents are sick with worry. She needs to contact them and go home.’
‘No, sorry. I can’t help you,’ I said, forcing a small smile.
I picked up my notes and pretended to read them again as I fought to regain my composure. How on earth did she know Zeena was with me? And what was that about Zeena running away and not being in touch? Zeena had seen her mother on Friday and she’d been aggressive and rude to her. Yet clearly we were talking about the same child.
The last of the carers came in and I closed the door and tried to rein in my thoughts. Picking up my notes, I began by welcoming everyone to the training, and then went through what’s referred to as ‘housekeeping’, which includes where the fire exits are, a reminder to turn off mobiles, confidentiality and a timetable for the day. As I spoke I avoided meeting the woman’s gaze, although I felt her eyes on me. My heart was still racing and my hands felt clammy, but once I began the PowerPoint presentation and everyone was concentrating on the screen it became a little easier. I stood to the side of the room and allowed my gaze to wander as I talked. Who was the woman and how did she know Zeena? Was she a relative, a member of her extended family and part of the Asian network Zeena had spoken of? I had no idea, but I needed to find out. This could be a huge threat to Zeena’s security.
Somehow I got through the next two hours and then at noon I broke the training for lunch. I reminded everyone that they needed to return by one o’clock for the afternoon session, and slipping the registration list into my bag I left the room. I went upstairs to where the social workers had their desks. It was a large open-plan office and I looked around for Edith, my supervising social worker (sometimes called a link worker), but I couldn’t see her. I saw another social worker I knew and she looked over and smiled. I went to her desk. ‘I’m looking for Edith or Tara,’ I said.
‘Edith has gone on leave, but Tara should be around somewhere,’ she said.
She, too, scanned the room and at that moment the double doors swung open and Tara came in, carrying a stack of folders.
‘Thank you,’ I said, and went over.
‘Hi. What are you doing here?’ Tara said, greeting me with a smile.
‘I’m running some training today,’ I said. ‘But I need to ask you something.’ I took the registration list from my bag. ‘This lady, Mrs Parvin –’ I said, pointing to her name on the sheet. ‘Could she know I’m looking after Zeena?’
‘She certainly shouldn’t,’ Tara said, shocked.
I explained what had happened.
‘I’ll see her supervising social worker straight away and find out what’s going on,’ Tara said. ‘Everyone here who’s working on Zeena’s case knows her whereabouts are to be kept secret. Is Zeena at school?’
‘Yes.’
‘Norma telephoned me this morning and said Zeena wasn’t able to tell her anything on Friday,’ Tara said.
‘That’s right. Norma said she’d been scared into not telling, and she hasn’t said anything to me either.’
Tara nodded. ‘How was Zeena over the weekend?’
‘She felt safer staying in, but we had a pleasant weekend.’ I gave her a brief résumé of our weekend.
‘And Zeena doesn’t need anything?’
‘No. I’ve asked her.’
‘OK. Let me find out
Similar Books
