‘I’ve made a lot of friends online,’ Stevie added. ‘I can share stuff with them that I can’t with others because they understand. They know how I feel.’
‘That’s good,’ I said, ‘but just remember that online friends aren’t the same as those you know in person – at school or in the area. The only thing you know for sure about the person you are talking to online is that they can type.’
Stevie looked at me for a moment, puzzled, then said, ‘Oh yes, I see what you mean.’
‘Mum says that a lot when she lectures us about staying safe online,’ Lucy said.
Stevie had paused from eating and appeared deep in thought.
‘Are you going to school tomorrow?’ Paula asked him presently.
‘Yes,’ he replied, and continued eating.
The conversation ran on as we ate, with talk about school and college. I offered to take Stevie to school in the car the following morning for his first day back, but he didn’t want me to, saying he would use the bus. He knew the bus stop was a short walk away at the top of our road and that the bus would take him right to his school.
‘I will go,’ he said to me, as if the reason I’d offered him a lift was because I doubted he’d get there.
‘I know, I trust you,’ I said. ‘I just thought you might prefer a lift on your first day back. A bit of support.’
I did trust him. I always trust people until they give me a reason not to. At Stevie’s age, of course, he should be allowed to go to school and come home by bus. I told him what time he’d need to be up in the morning to leave the house on time. ‘And I’ll expect you home by four-thirty,’ I said. ‘Text me if you’re going to be late.’
One of the first things I do when I’m fostering a young person is to exchange mobile phone numbers, so I can get in touch with them and they with me. My number was now in Stevie’s phone and his was in mine.
That evening, while everyone was occupied in their rooms, I wrote up my log notes, then went online and found Stevie’s Facebook page. His security was set to high strength so none of his details or photographs were public; only ‘friends’ could see them. I clicked on the box to send him a friendship request.
Stevie slept well again, very well, and it took a bit of persuading to get him up the following morning so he had time for breakfast. I gave him money for his school dinner and checked he had his bus pass with him, then saw him off at the door. ‘Good luck. Text me if you want a lift home, otherwise I’ll see you at four-thirty,’ I said.
He nodded and, slipping in the earbuds he’d brought from home, went up the front path. He looked very smart in his school uniform, although I noticed his trousers were a fraction too short. At his age he would be having growth spurts and continually need new clothes. But of course he’d spent all his clothing allowance for the month on a new pair of jeans, so I would buy what he needed. Foster carers receive an allowance, but it rarely covers everything a young person needs and they dig into their own pockets as they would for their own children.
Lucy had already left for work, and Paula left for college soon after Stevie. Adrian, having worked a late shift the night before, was just getting up as he didn’t have to be in until ten. I cooked him breakfast, cleared up, said goodbye to him as he left and then the day slipped by. Housework, laundry, I phoned Verity and left a message with her colleague to say Stevie was in school today, did some clerical work, phoned my mother for a chat, and before long it was time to start thinking about what to give everyone for dinner.
Four-thirty came and went and there was no sign of Stevie. At five o’clock, when he still wasn’t home and hadn’t texted, I began to worry. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t trust him or to appear overprotective, but when it got to five-thirty I was really worried and texted. Are you OK? Had expected you home by now. Cathy x
Paula was now home from college and was trying to talk to me about her day, but I was only half listening. Having texted Stevie, I gave her my full attention for all of two minutes until my phone bleeped with an incoming text. It was from Stevie and I immediately read it. On the bus now. Went to see Kiri and Liam. Which was fine, but he should have told me before that he was going to see his sister and brother, not after the event. I’d remind him when he got home. ‘Sorry, love,’ I said to Paula. ‘Thanks for your patience. Let’s go and sit in the living room and have a chat.’ Which we did. It’s so important to make time for your own children when you foster.
Stevie arrived home twenty minutes later, just after Paula and I had finished our chat. As I let him in I asked him how Liam (aged eight) and Kiri (aged six) were. He said they were ‘fine, same as usual’. He took off his shoes and coat and I asked him how his day had been at school, and he said, ‘Fine.’ Then he added that he’d seen Carolyn and she and the Head had spoken to the boy who’d been leading the bullying and he’d been made to apologise.
‘Did that help?’ I asked.
‘I think so,’ Stevie said.
‘Good.’ I then reminded him to text me if he wasn’t coming straight home from school. ‘And the same applies for tonight,’ I said. ‘You said you wanted to go out, so I’ll expect you home by nine-thirty. I’d like to know where you’re going and how you are getting home.’
‘I’m not going out now,’ he said.
‘Oh, OK.’
He went up to his room and stayed there until dinner was ready. I assumed he was changing out of his school uniform, but when he came down he was still in his school jersey and trousers, and seemed subdued. ‘Everything OK?’ I asked him. He nodded and joined us at the table.
It was just Paula, Stevie and me for dinner, as Adrian and Lucy were both still working – Adrian until eight o’clock and Lucy on the late shift at the nursery, which finished at seven. As we ate I tried to make conversation, but only Paula responded. Stevie was clearly preoccupied and, once finished, he stood, took his plate and cutlery to the kitchen and went upstairs. Usually I like us all to stay at the table until everyone has finished eating (as he had the previous night) – it’s polite – but it was only a small matter and he obviously had things on his mind. Stevie remained in his room all evening, despite me going up a couple of times and suggesting he come down. I wasn’t unduly worried; many young people like to spend time in their rooms, and he’d had a pretty emotional week and been to school that day.
I try to see my mother every two weeks, usually at the weekend, when we all go if possible. She lives about an hour’s drive away. However, Mum understood I wouldn’t be going this weekend, as I wanted Stevie settled in first. I’d phone her again over the weekend and my brother would visit. On Saturday morning, when Stevie surfaced, I asked him if he had any plans for the weekend. He said he didn’t and wouldn’t be going out that night even though it was Saturday. I knew young people’s plans often changed and didn’t read anything untoward into it. I suggested he might like to see his grandparents and Liam and Kiri, as there was more time at the weekend, rather than after school. But he didn’t want to do that either; he said he’d seen them the day before.
Adrian was working Saturday, and Lucy and Paula were thinking of going shopping after lunch, and they asked Stevie if he wanted to join them. I was expecting him to jump at the chance, given his enthusiasm for shopping when I’d taken him, but he said he wasn’t in the mood for shopping and was going to chill in his room. That afternoon there was just him and me in the house and I suggested he might like to come down rather than sit in his room, where he’d been all day.
‘I’m good here,’ he said. He was propped up on his bed, texting.
‘OK. Have you got any homework to do?’
‘Yes, I’ll do it later.’
I assumed that, having shared a bedroom with his younger brother,