Too Scared to Tell - Cathy Glass

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very uncomfortable,’ I said. ‘Do you sleep in a bed at your home?’ I’d fostered children before who’d had to sleep on the sofa or a mattress on the floor because there wasn’t money for a bed.

      ‘I don’t want a bath,’ he said as soon as we went in.

      ‘Would you like a shower instead?’ I asked.

      ‘No.’ He began to look worried again.

      ‘OK, just have a good wash tonight. I expect you’re tired. You can have a bath tomorrow.’ I never usually insist a child has a bath or shower on their first night; I wait until they feel more comfortable with me.

      I ran water for him in the washbasin and then waited while he washed his face, going carefully over his cheek where the bruise was. ‘That looks sore,’ I said.

      He shrugged. I thought Miss Jordan had done well to get Oskar talking about how he got the mark on his face, as he was saying so little to me. But she’d had a term – four months – to gain his trust, while I’d only had a few hours. I hoped in time he’d start to trust me and open up. He washed his hands and brushed his teeth, then I handed him his pyjamas.

      ‘Do you need help changing into your pyjamas or shall I wait outside?’ I asked him, respecting his privacy.

      ‘I want to sleep in my clothes,’ he said, immediately growing anxious. ‘Please let me sleep in my clothes.’ His eyes filled.

      An icy chill ran up my spine. I hoped I was wrong, but a child not wanting to undress can be a sign that they’ve been sexually abused.

       Protecting Oskar

      Preoccupied with Oskar’s reaction to changing into his night clothes, I picked up his pyjamas and we went round the landing to his bedroom. I certainly wouldn’t be forcing him to change, but I hoped to be able to persuade him, and also to find out the reason for his reluctance to undress. There might be a perfectly innocent explanation, although as a very experienced foster carer I had my doubts.

      It was still light outside and I asked Oskar if he liked to sleep with his curtains closed, open or open a little. On their first night I always ask a child this and other questions regarding how they like their bedroom. It’s small details like this that help them settle in a strange room. He replied, ‘I think they’re closed.’

      ‘OK.’

      ‘Do you like to sleep with your bedroom light on or off? Or I can dim it a little if you wish.’ I thought if I made his room as he was used to then he’d start to feel more secure.

      He didn’t reply so I showed him what I meant by switching the light on and off and then dimming it. ‘On or off?’ I asked again. ‘Or dimmed?’

      ‘It goes on and off a lot,’ he said. ‘It wakes me up.’

      ‘They keep switching it on,’ Oskar said.

      ‘Who do?’ I asked.

      ‘The people in the house.’

      ‘Oh. What people are they, love?’

      He clammed up again. So often in fostering the child is reluctant to confide to begin with and foster carers (and social workers) have to become detectives, gently easing the information from them. We also have to be receptive if a child starts to tell us something, as what they are really trying to say may not be obvious.

      ‘This room is your bedroom and only you sleep here,’ I emphasized, hoping to make him feel safe. ‘I won’t come into your room and switch on the light unless you want me to. You can have your door open or closed, just as you wish. When it is time to get up for school, I will knock on your door to wake you and then you can call out, “Come in.”’

      ‘Knock on my door,’ he repeated, as though he hadn’t a clue what I was talking about.

      ‘Yes, like this.’ I stepped outside, drew the door to, knocked on it and said, ‘It’s Cathy, can I come in? Then you say, “Yes, come in.”’

      I demonstrated again and on the second try he called out, ‘Yes, come in.’

      ‘Great,’ I said. ‘Well done. Remember, it’s your room. You’re in charge of it. OK?’

      ‘Oskar, I’m going to wait outside while you change into your pyjamas and get into bed. Then, once you are ready, you can call out “come in”.’ Without waiting for a refusal, I stepped outside the door, drew it to and waited. A few minutes later his little voice rang out. ‘I’m in bed. You can come in.’ I smiled.

      Even so, I knocked on the door before I went in. ‘Well done,’ I said, and scooped up his day clothes. ‘I’ll wash these ready for school tomorrow.’

      ‘Will you take me to school?’ he asked, his little face peeping over the duvet.

      ‘Yes, and collect you. Now I want you to try to get some sleep. You’ve had a very tiring day. Would you like a goodnight kiss?’ I always check, otherwise it can be an uncomfortable invasion of the child’s personal space and terrifying for those who have been abused.

      Oskar shook his head and looked worried. ‘It’s fine, you don’t have to have a kiss. I’ll just say goodnight and see you in the morning. Call out if you need me.’ I tucked him in and went to the door. ‘Would you like your door left open, closed or a little open?’ I asked him again.

      ‘Closed,’ he said.

      ‘OK.’

      Leaving the light on low, I came out convinced there was far more going on for Oskar than anyone knew.

      As I wrote, I included collecting Oskar from school, that he’d eaten a good meal, how he appeared to be coping with being in care and his comments where appropriate. The account has to be objective, so I didn’t include that I thought there was far more going on in Oskar’s life than anyone knew about. This was conjecture at present and time would tell if I was right or not. Once I’d completed my notes for the day, I stored the folder in a locked drawer in the front room with other important paperwork.

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