Skin Deep: All She Wanted Was a Mummy, But Was She Too Ugly to Be Loved?. Casey Watson

      ‘Essentially to get her placed with a long-term foster family,’ I told him. ‘Or, ideally, an adoptive one, obviously.’ I smiled. ‘Well, once we’ve managed to socialise her a bit, at any rate.’ I paused then. Better I do it now than have it – literally – come out once I’d gone. ‘There is one other issue I should make you aware of, Mr Stancliffe.’

      He raised his eyebrows quizzically. ‘Which is?’

      ‘That it seems she’s never been properly potty-trained.’

      I could see his brain whirring, wondering perhaps if I’d delivered her in a nappy. ‘Which means?’

      ‘Which means we’re working on it, but she does need reminding to go to the toilet and, to some extent, if it’s feasible, er … accompanying. Which is why I’m so pleased that you’ve decided to start her off in your nurture group,’ I rattled on. ‘Because it’ll make the process altogether easier, won’t it?’

      I mentally apologised to poor Miss Carter as I said that, but, again, Mr Stancliffe seemed to take it all in his stride.

      ‘Right,’ he said, scribbling down something on the pad in front of him. ‘Right.’

      He put his pen down.

      ‘So she’s effectively an unknown quantity as of tomorrow,’ he said finally.

      I nodded. ‘Well, I suppose, yes. We’re doing this blind. All I know is that her medication doesn’t seem to have any impact on her. She’s just the same with it as when it wears off. My GP is hoping that it’s the meds that are making her so erratic, and that after some time off from them she might settle down a bit. That’s the plan, anyway. We’ll just have to see. You never know – it might even help with the soiling.’

      I saw his nose wrinkle, almost imperceptibly, but definitely. ‘Ri-ight,’ he said again, then cleared his throat decisively. ‘As you probably already know, Mrs Watson, we did tell the local authority that we were at full capacity here.’ I nodded. ‘And that, like yours with her medication, this is going to be something of a trial. If we can’t fully meet her needs, we’d be doing her a disservice if we held on to her. I’m sure you’d agree.’

      I did. On both counts. The word ‘trial’ had more than one meaning, after all. So after I’d gone and blown a kiss goodbye to Flip, who I could see through the classroom window now seemed be enjoying herself enormously with Miss Carter, I crossed both pairs of fingers on both of my hands. And then crossed my thumbs for good measure.

Chapter 7

      I had a busy day ahead, and as I ran around with the duster and furniture polish I offered up a silent prayer that one thing wouldn’t happen: that the phone would start ringing and that it would be the school. It was Flip’s first proper day and I was mentally crossing everything that it wouldn’t also be her last.

      It was yet another stress to the checklist in my head; my mental ‘to do’ list, which currently included the fact that both Tyler and Mike had birthdays coming up in the next fortnight – within days of each other. Plus there had been Kieron, who I’d dropped in to see after I’d dropped Flip at school. He and Lauren had been back from Cyprus almost a week now, but what with her being poorly, I’d not really had a chance for a proper catch-up, and I knew he’d been dying to show me all his photos. One by one, as it turned out, having given me his smartphone – forgetting as he invariably did that, no, I didn’t know how to ‘touch, tap and scroll’ – and giving me a blow-by-blow account of all the whats, whys and wherefores of every image. Safe to say, Kieron had really enjoyed his holiday, which was a great relief.

      ‘I wasn’t one bit stressed out!’ he’d enthused, as he showed me how to work the phone, and I was only too happy to hear it. For all that my mind had been on Flip, he and Lauren had never been far from it either, and despite the confidence I’d tried to instil in him I’d still had half an ear on my mobile, half-expecting to get a call telling me he couldn’t cope and would have to come straight home. It was a source of real joy that it hadn’t actually happened; that my little boy, all grown up now, had leapt such a major hurdle.

      Not that I’d really had time to do justice to the seemingly endless parade of zoo and waterpark pictures and accompanying commentaries. I had Ellie, Flip’s social worker, due to arrive at noon, so I had to curtail the slide show with promises that we’d go through them properly at the weekend – not to mention sampling the Zivania, apparently a wine-type beverage that was famous in Cyprus, a bottle of which they’d brought back for Mike and me. ‘Though between you and me, Mum,’ he confessed as I left, ‘it’s pretty strong stuff. I’m not sure it wasn’t responsible for Lauren feeling so poorly. She only had a glassful and that was it. Barf! She couldn’t touch a drop of anything for the rest of the week. So I won’t be offended if you put it in one of your trifles!’ he finished, handing it to me. Then, being Kieron, he did a helpful mime to illustrate.