‘Well, in that case I think it would be a good idea to finish now,’ Amelia said. ‘I’ll have the contract typed up and printed, and then I’ll arrange for us to sign it. I’m so pleased you were able to come to this meeting, Joss. I think it’s been very positive.’
The silence from the rest of us spoke volumes.
Chapter Four
Because Amelia was inexperienced she was trying to be Joss’s friend, and it didn’t work. Parents, carers, teachers, social workers and others responsible for a child can’t ingratiate themselves with the young person and still hope to have the authority necessary to put boundaries in place for their safety and acceptable behaviour. Once the child is a responsible adult it’s different – parents often become their friend – but while they are growing up, especially if they are angry and rebellious, as Joss was, then the adults responsible have to take control and accept that sometimes the child won’t like them. I’d seen some very good contracts of behaviour that had worked well, but I thought Joss’s was simply a licence to do whatever she wanted. It wasn’t long before I was proven right.
On the way home in the car Joss lost no time in telling me that, as it was Monday, she was allowed out until 9.30 p.m.
‘After you’ve done your homework,’ I said.
‘I haven’t got any,’ she replied.
I doubted this and I’d asked for a meeting with her teacher to discuss Joss’s education, but for now I had to accept what Joss told me, so she could go out. Once home, she quickly changed out of her school uniform into leggings and a T-shirt, gobbled down her dinner and then left, shouting goodbye as she went. Although Adrian, Lucy and Paula didn’t comment, I knew they felt as I did that it wasn’t good for Joss to be out so much, and they would have liked her to stay in more. Their friends’ parents had similar rules to me, so they generally accepted the boundaries I put in place.
They were upstairs getting ready for bed when Joss returned at ten o’clock. When I let her in I could smell alcohol on her, although she didn’t appear drunk. I was worried more than annoyed.
‘Joss, why do you keep drinking when you know how bad it is for your health?’ I asked wearily.
‘To forget,’ she said, kicking off her shoes.
This was far more revealing than any of her previous responses of ‘dunno’ or ‘none of your business’ or ‘I like it’, so I felt she might want to talk.
‘Joss, I understand you don’t want to see a counsellor, but can you try to share with me what exactly you are trying to forget?’
‘You know already,’ she said. ‘My dad and him.’
‘Do you want to talk about your dad?’ I asked.
‘No.’
‘Do you want to talk about your stepfather?’ I tried.
‘No.’
She began upstairs.
‘Joss, do you talk to anyone – Chloe maybe? – about the things that worry you? We all need someone to talk to.’
She shrugged and continued upstairs. ‘Are you going to stop my pocket money because I was late?’
‘Not if you are back on time tomorrow.’
She paused on the stairs and turned to look at me. ‘Why do you foster? It can’t be much fun.’
I smiled as I met her gaze. ‘Because I like fostering. I like to try to help young people, and if I can make even a small difference I feel very pleased.’
‘But what if you can’t help them?’ she said.
‘It hasn’t happened yet. I always find a way to help a little.’
‘Not with me, you won’t,’ she said bitterly and, turning, continued upstairs.
‘Even with you, Joss,’ I called after her.
‘No. I’m beyond your help.’
Joss cried out in the night, and as usual I went round and resettled her. She wasn’t awake, but I stayed with her until she was in a deep sleep again. It was indicative of the high level of her inner turmoil that she had so many nightmares, but until she opened up and started talking about her profound unhappiness the nightmares would continue – and so too, I thought, would her angry and self-destructive behaviour.
She had breakfast with us as usual on Tuesday morning and I saw her off to school at the door. Then at 9.30 a.m. her school’s secretary telephoned to say that Joss hadn’t arrived. It was school policy to notify the parents or carers if a young person hadn’t arrived by 9.30, and it had happened before. I assumed that, as before, Joss would arrive late, and sure enough at 9.50 the secretary telephoned again to say that Joss had just arrived – an hour late – and that she would be kept in a sixty-minute detention after school to make up the work she’d missed. This was also school policy. I thanked the secretary for letting me know and asked if she’d remind her form teacher that I would like a meeting with her to discuss Joss as soon as possible. She said she’d pass on my message.
School finished at 3.30 p.m., so, allowing for the sixty-minute detention and half an hour on the bus, I was expecting Joss home at about five o’clock. In fact, she arrived home at 5.30, which wasn’t too bad, so I let that go, but I did ask her why she’d been an hour late for school that morning when she’d left the house on time.
‘I went home first,’ she said.
‘What for?’
‘To get a book I needed for school. I thought I might have left it there. They give you a detention if you keep forgetting your books.’
‘And did you find the book?’
‘No. I think I’ve lost it. I tried to tell my teacher the reason I was late, but she didn’t believe me.’
I was suspicious too, but I didn’t say so.
‘Joss, in future it’s better to forget a book than arrive an hour late for school. I was worried where you might have got to.’
‘OK. I did my homework in detention, so can I go straight out? It’s Tuesday and I’m allowed out.’
‘I know, but you’re having your dinner first, and really, Joss, I’d like it if you stayed in. We could watch some television together, or you could spend some time with Lucy and Paula. They’d like that.’
‘I’ll see them tomorrow evening instead,’ Joss said, ready as always with a reply. ‘It’s Wednesday so I’m not allowed out. And you’re taking me to get my sound system from home.’
‘I hadn’t forgotten. If you go out tonight, where will you be going?’
‘To Chloe’s.’
‘I can take you in the car.’
‘No, thanks.’
‘I’ll collect you, then.’
‘No, thanks.’
I couldn’t insist on this as a condition of her going, as I had done with her trip to the cinema, because the contract of behaviour had overridden me.
‘Make sure you’re back by half past nine, then,’ I reminded her. ‘No later.’
She nodded.
Joss arrived back at ten minutes past ten – forty minutes late – and smelling of alcohol, so I told her I was stopping half her pocket money and that she could earn it back through good behaviour: by coming home on time and not drinking for the rest of the week.
‘That’s