Innocent. Cathy Glass. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Cathy Glass
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008341992
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and a woman I took to be Molly and Kit’s parents sat at the table with their backs to me. At right angles to them and at the end of the table was Tess. Preeta sat opposite the couple. As I entered they fell silent and everyone looked at me. The faces of the parents were the epitome of grief and worry.

      ‘Hello, I’m Cathy,’ I said as I sat opposite them and next to Preeta. ‘I hope I’m not late.’

      ‘No. We were early,’ Tess said. Then to the parents, ‘Cathy is the foster carer.’

      ‘OK, let’s begin,’ Tess said, drawing herself upright in her chair. ‘This is a short informal meeting so you can all meet. I won’t be taking minutes, but Preeta will make a few notes.’ Aneta sniffed and I could see she wasn’t far from tears. ‘I appreciate this is a very emotional time for you,’ Tess said, looking at the parents, ‘so we’ll keep this meeting short, then you can see Molly and Kit.’

      ‘When can I see them?’ Aneta asked. I took my pen and notepad from my bag.

      ‘I’ve arranged contact at the Family Centre for four o’clock this afternoon,’ Tess said. Then to me, ‘That will give you time to go home, collect the children, and take them there.’

      ‘Yes,’ I said as I wrote: 4 p.m., Family Centre.

      ‘After today we can probably make contact earlier when the Family Centre is less busy, but I’ll let you know. Cathy, can you tell us how Molly and Kit are settling in, please?’

      I looked at the parents. It was heart-breaking to see their anguish. Aneta was wiping away fresh tears. How parents cope with losing their children I’ll never know. Whatever had happened, they didn’t set out to lose their children.

      ‘Molly and Kit are lovely children,’ I began. ‘They are a credit to you. They’re obviously missing you, but they’re eating well and –’

      ‘What have you given them to eat?’ Aneta interrupted anxiously.

      Filip nodded, but Aneta was looking even more worried and I wondered if there was something wrong in what I’d said. ‘Will the person looking after them now give them anything to eat?’ she asked, so I guessed Tess or Preeta had told them of the child-minding arrangements.

      ‘Possibly a drink and a biscuit,’ I replied. ‘Why? Is there a problem?’

      ‘You have to be very careful what you give them to eat and drink,’ Aneta said intensely. ‘My children have a lot of allergies and can easily fall sick.’

      ‘Can you tell me what the allergies are?’ I asked, my pen ready. ‘So I know which foods to avoid. I understood they didn’t have any allergies.’ Preeta was ready to write too.

      ‘Lots of things make them sick,’ Aneta said defensively. ‘I can’t tell you them all, and they change. I’m always at the doctor’s or hospital with my children. Not even the doctors can find out what’s wrong with them.’

      ‘I see,’ I said. Of course, Tess had told me the doctor’s view was that they didn’t have any allergies. ‘Can you narrow down the allergy to a group of foods? For example, is it dairy produce?’

      ‘Can you narrow it down at all?’ Tess asked, and I thought she looked sceptical.

      Aneta shook her head. ‘No, and it’s not always food,’ she said vehemently. ‘Sometimes it can be the stuff I wash clothes in, or they brush past something or it’s in the air. You mustn’t use bubble bath.’

      ‘No, I don’t anyway. Young skin is delicate so I keep bathing simple – just a bit of baby shampoo for their hair.’

      ‘How do these allergic reactions manifest themselves?’ Preeta asked. I’d written allergies on my notepad ready to list them, but so far I’d just put bubble bath, which I didn’t use anyway.

      ‘My children get a temperature and start vomiting,’ Aneta said animatedly. ‘I have to get an emergency appointment at the doctor’s or call an ambulance. But it stops as suddenly as it starts.’

      ‘Do they have a rash?’ I asked.

      ‘Sometimes, but usually they vomit.’ Her face crumpled and her tears fell again. ‘You should never have taken my children away,’ she said to Tess. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m innocent. I love my children and they need me. I’m the only one who can look after them.’

      Filip placed a reassuring hand on his wife’s arm but didn’t look at her or speak. I thought he was barely coping too.

      ‘I love my children,’ Aneta wept. ‘I’m a good mother. My only crime was to take them to the doctor’s if they were ill, or if they fell and hurt themselves. They bruise easily. I’m being punished for looking after them properly. It’s not right.’ So upset and sincere, it again flashed across my mind that I hoped the social services had got it right in bringing the children into care.

      ‘So to be clear,’ Tess said. ‘There is nothing specific you can tell Cathy about which foods trigger an allergic reaction in either of your children?’

      ‘No,’ Aneta said, wiping her eyes.

      ‘No,’ Aneta said, ‘because it’s not just food. It’s lots of things, not even the doctors know.’

      ‘Cathy,’ Tess said, turning to me, ‘can you start a food diary, please? Note everything the children eat and drink, and obviously seek medical help if necessary.’

      ‘Yes, of course,’ I said, and wrote food diary on my notepad. ‘I assume a peanut allergy has been ruled out?’ I asked. ‘The children have never suffered from anaphylactic shock and have auto-injectors?’ I thought something as serious as this would have been mentioned by now, but the children had been placed with me so quickly I decided it was best to ask.

      ‘No, they don’t,’ Aneta said.

      There was a short silence and I wondered if Tess was expecting me to continue talking about how the children had settled in, but instead she said, ‘Cathy, is there anything else you want to ask Aneta and Filip that would help in the care of the children? I’m mindful of the time.’

      ‘Knowing the children’s routine would be useful,’ I said. ‘I’ll keep to it as much as possible. Also, I’m assuming there is a follow-up appointment at the fracture clinic?’

      ‘It’s on Monday morning,’ Aneta said, wiping her eyes. ‘I’ve got an appointment card at home, and a fact sheet about the care of the plaster cast the nurse gave to me.’

      ‘Could you bring them to contact today, please?’ I asked.

      ‘I’ll bring the sheet, but you won’t need the appointment card. I’ll take