The Silent Witness: Part 3 of 3
‘I’m so sorry, Casey,’ my link worker John said, sounding weary. ‘I know this is probably the worst time I could ring you, but we desperately need someone to take a child tonight.’It’s the night before Christmas when Casey and Mike get the call. A twelve year old girl, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Her father is on a ventilator, fighting for his life, while her mother is currently on remand in prison. Despite claiming she attacked him in self-defence, she’s been charged with his attempted murder.The girl is called Bella, and she’s refusing to say anything. The trouble is that she is also the only witness…
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This book is a work of non-fiction based on the author’s experiences. In order to protect privacy, names, identifying characteristics, dialogue and details have been changed or reconstructed.
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First published by HarperElement 2017
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© Casey Watson 2017
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I felt tense over the next couple of days – as if I were living on borrowed time. And it wasn’t the first time I’d felt that way, which only made it worse. Nothing like being the master of your own potential downfall to concentrate the mind.
Nevertheless, even though I initially thought ‘What the hell have I just done?’, as anyone sensible would, I soon dismissed the notion. I had only done what I’d needed to do.
Both in my work as a foster carer and previously when I’d worked in schools, I had sailed a little too close to the wind on a couple of occasions, and it was always for the same (and, to my mind, rational) reason. Because I was convinced I was doing the right thing.
Not that sailing that close to the wind was an easy manoeuvre, as any salty seadog would tell you. There was always a trade-off – do the right thing and risk jeopardising your job, or take the safe route on the job front and accept that you might spend the rest of your life regretting it.
Which probably sounds a bit dramatic, but that’s always the dilemma, and it’s my blessing and curse that when I decide something I stick to it. And even if it does make me question whether it’s worth losing my job, on every similar occasion I’m afraid the answer is yes.
In any event, I only had myself to blame if the powers that be didn’t see the situation in the same way as I did, because, even as I tore it up, I knew that, whatever happened as a consequence – even if it turned out to be nothing – I would at some point have to admit to what I had done. I’m not a dishonest person and I would have to open up at some point and face the consequences, or I knew it would continue to eat away at me.
As it stood right now, however, I was barely conscious of it even nibbling. No, in pride of place on my post-letter-ripping-up mental to-do list was that I had given myself time; time in which I had to get Bella to talk. Or my rash, impulsive act would have been in vain.
In that sense, my push to get Bella back into school was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, going to school might prove a positive catalyst, in that, back among peers, Bella might better visualise her future, but, on the other hand, it meant less time spent with me.
On the whole, though, I was cheerful when the call came from ELAC first thing on the Thursday – not least because Bella being safely in school meant that, should something further happen with Adam Cummings’s spurious sister, chances were she wouldn’t even be around.
‘And it sounds as though there is plenty of scope for her to have some TA support,’ added the ELAC man, who was called Howard, and sounded very posh. ‘At least to take us to the Easter holidays, by which time she will have hopefully settled in. My colleague tells me she’s a bright girl?’
‘Definitely,’ I confirmed.
‘Excellent. That should make a world of difference. Hopefully her recent traumas won’t have set her back too far, but you know as well as I do how often children struggling with their home lives tend to switch off educationally as well. So that’s good news.’
‘It is indeed,’ I said. I knew all too well, from my experiences as a behaviour manager in that same school, how quickly children with emotional and behavioural problems could flounder, and if that went hand in hand – as it often did – with them struggling with their school work, it soon became a doubly destructive spiral; if you couldn’t keep up, you tended to withdraw, which made it harder to contribute to lessons, which meant you fell further behind, which meant you withdrew even more, fearful of the shame and wrath of bullies.
