‘Well, hi there, Jamie,’ Karron chirped. ‘Nothing too bad I hope.’
Jamie had slept badly, his asthma, which was normally fairly well-controlled, flaring up at the onset of a cold. Now, though, he was looking perkier than he had for hours. I guessed that Karron’s accent – one he usually only heard on TV – had brought on the sudden improvement. ‘I’m a bit wheezy,’ he said, grinning from ear to ear.
‘Ah, poor guy. You rest up. I’ll talk to your mom in the kitchen.’
Jamie nodded, watching her with amused interest.
As I filled the kettle, Karron dropped her bag on the kitchen floor then leaned slantwise on the worktop, elbows down, chin resting on one fist. Her hair was wavy, brown and long, reaching halfway down her back. At a guess, I put her in her mid-40s, though the shiny lipstick and sparkling eye shadow she wore gave her a youthful air. With the top half of her chest strewn over the wooden chopping board and her legs stretched out behind her, she looked thoroughly at home. The sight immediately lowered my guard so that when we’d finished making small talk and she asked how things were going, I felt I could tell her anything.
‘Difficult,’ I said, reaching for two mugs from the top cupboard. I lowered them to the worktop and turned to face her. ‘Reece is settling well I think. He’s very jumpy, craves security, but he’s turning to me for comfort so I’m not too worried about him. He’s very sweet. I had a word with his teacher this morning about his reading books. He wanted to move on to something a bit more challenging and when she agreed he was over the moon, bless him. Taylor though –’ I paused, lifting two jars of coffee up for Karron to choose from. She gestured towards the smallest with a nod of her head. ‘Black and strong,’ she said, ‘and don’t hold back on the sugar.’
I grinned, already certain that Karron was going to be a rock.
‘What about Taylor?’ she asked, helping herself to one of the biscuits on a plate in front of her. ‘She’s ten, right?’
‘Yep, ten. Going on fifteen.’ I scooped two generous teaspoons of instant coffee into one of the mugs and a teabag into the other. ‘I think we may have got off on the wrong foot,’ I said, narrowing my eyes against the rising steam as I poured hot water from the kettle into the mugs. Karron took the proffered drink and listened without interrupting as I explained the mix-up over their sex. ‘As soon as I laid eyes on them I thought they wouldn’t be able to stay and so I’m afraid I didn’t give them the welcome they deserved.’
Karron sipped cautiously at her coffee, leaving a trace of coral lipstick on the rim. ‘But you sorted things, right?’
‘Well, yes, with moving the rooms around and everything,’ I called out as I pottered to the fridge, removing the milk. ‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s nothing to do with that, but Taylor seems so angry. With me mostly,’ I added, pouring some milk into my tea.
After returning the carton to the fridge I sat on a stool at the breakfast bar and waited for Karron to respond.
She tilted her head to one side, eyeing me with a bright, intuitive gaze. ‘She’s gonna be though, isn’t she? I mean, that’s a normal response, right?’
‘Absolutely, yes, of course it is. But –’ Suddenly lost for words, I glanced into the garden. The March sun hung low over our tumble-down fence, our border of daffodils iridescent under the cloudless sky. A single yellow petal, browning at the edges, was torn off by the breeze and danced a wild jig across the lawn. Behind me, the fridge hummed, loud and rattling, as if egging me on to say something. I sighed, wondering how to put my feelings of helplessness into words.
‘But?’ prompted Karron.
With a teaspoon still clasped in my fingers, I lifted my hands. ‘I know it sounds silly. Of course she’s going to be angry. And hurt and confused and lost – I know all of that and I understand. I do.’ I sighed, looking Karron in the eye. ‘I suppose the real problem is –’ I hesitated, took a breath. It was a tough one to articulate, because somehow I felt that as a foster carer, I should know better. ‘Well, I suppose the truth is that I really don’t know how to deal with her.’ I placed the teaspoon firmly on the side. ‘There, I’ve said it now.’
‘Feels good, huh?’ Karron was watching me with a slight, knowing smile on her face.
‘To let it out?’ I nodded. ‘Yes I suppose it does.’
She took another sip of her coffee, cradled the cup in her hands and then lifted her elbows towards me. ‘You know, you mustn’t beat up on yourself for having doubts; the best foster carers are the ones that question themselves. Those who think they’re perfect are the ones I worry about. So – go for it, girl. Gimme me all you got.’
‘OK, you asked for it,’ I said with a wry smile. ‘Well, for a start she sneers at everything I say. I mean literally, every time I open my mouth. If I ask her to stop doing something all she comes back with is: “Why should I?” Oh and she does this infuriating thing,’ I said, flicking my fingers close to my eyes. ‘It’s SO annoying! She falls short of making contact so when I ask her to stop she says: “God-er, I never even touched you! You’re sooooo moody.” She’s obsessed with the computer, some site called Myspace in particular, and she goes nuts when I tell her that she’s had enough screen time. There’s just –’
I stopped, noticing that Karron was staring at me with a dubious expression. ‘Myspace? I don’t think she should be on there. Myspace has an age rating, I believe.’
‘Taylor told me that it’s a kids’ site. She said all of her friends are on there.’
Karron stifled a snigger and I reddened, covering my face with my hands. What a fool I was, being so easily duped. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ the social worker said as I slowly lowered them. ‘They all try it on. Check it out but I’m pretty sure you have to be around thirteen or fourteen.’
I sighed. Disagreements over screen time were nothing new – even Emily and Jamie baulked sometimes when I asked them to turn their gadgets off, and they had grown up with the same, consistent rules. Children who had been given free rein online were bound to find the sudden imposition of restrictions frustrating, I knew that, and clashes over screen time were common in foster carers’ homes. ‘They’ll be no reasoning with her if she’s not allowed to use it. It’s like you can almost feel an undercurrent of aggression whenever she walks into the room, slamming the door behind her. I know it’s only been four days and I sound like such a lightweight but, really, the thought of having her around all day for the next two weeks –’ I tapped the worktop with my fingers, my mind so caught up in the events of the last few days that I was looking at Karron without really registering her. ‘It’s a bit daunting to be honest. She won’t even get ready for school in the morning. And then once she’s there, she won’t come home.’
Karron knitted her brow. ‘Huh?’
‘Sit-ins. She performs sit-ins, refusing to leave her classroom. It was 5 o’clock before she agreed to come home yesterday afternoon. Thankfully my ex-husband had collected Emily and Jamie or they’d have been waiting for me at the school gates. I’ve a nasty feeling she’s going to do it again this afternoon and what with Jamie feeling under the weather and all my back-up carers busy,’ I took a breath, ‘well, I’m out of ideas. I just don’t know what to do about it.’
‘What does the school say?’
‘Taylor’s teacher is as exasperated as I am,’ I said with a rueful smile. ‘She’s only young and it’s playing havoc with her social life.’
Karron broke into infectious laughter.
I grinned. ‘It sounds funny but at the time it’s so frustrating. And do you know the really odd thing?’
The social worker tilted her head.
‘I get the feeling that her heart isn’t in it at all. There’s no denying that she’s a big personality. She’s bullish