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      ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said. ‘I’ve come straight from placing another child. Are they here?’

      ‘Yes, just arrived. They’re in the living room. I’m about to make coffee. Would you like one?’

      ‘Oh yes, please,’ she said gratefully. ‘Have you got a biscuit too? I haven’t had time for lunch.’

      ‘I could make you a sandwich?’ I offered.

      ‘No, a biscuit is fine.’

      Jill went into the living room and introduced herself, while I set about making the coffee. I could hear Jill talking to Melody in a reassuring voice, telling her she would be happy with me, that I’d look after her and there was nothing for her to worry about. Jill was a highly experienced social worker and I greatly valued her input, support and advice.

      I took the tray carrying the drinks and a plate of biscuits into the living room and set it on the coffee table. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink?’ I asked Melody as I handed out the mugs of coffee.

      ‘No, but I’ll have a biscuit.’ Standing, she grabbed a handful of biscuits and returned to the sofa to eat them.

      ‘Are you hungry?’ Neave asked her as they quickly vanished.

      ‘No,’ she snarled.

      ‘I’ll make her something to keep her going until dinner once we’ve finished,’ I reassured Neave.

      I passed the plate of biscuits to the adults and then put the empty plate on the tray. For a few moments there was quiet as they sipped their coffee and ate the biscuits. I thought Jill wasn’t the only one who hadn’t had time for lunch. Neave set her half-empty mug on the coffee table and took a wodge of papers from her briefcase. When a child is placed there are formalities that need to be completed, and Neave handed Jill and me a copy each of the Essential Information Form Part 1. This contained the basic information I needed about the child I was fostering, and I began to look through it, as did Jill, while Neave finished her coffee. Much of the information I already knew from Jill. It included Melody’s full name, most recent home address, date of birth and her parents’ names, and in the box for other family members was printed Four half-siblings, all adopted, but not their names. Melody’s ethnicity was given as white British and her first language English. The box for religion showed None, and her legal status showed Interim Care Order. There were no special dietary requirements and Melody had no known allergies. Her school’s name and address were shown with a comment in the box saying she’d only been there since September. It was January now, so she’d joined four months previously.

      ‘Melody changed school last term then?’ I asked Neave.

      ‘Yes, with the most recent move,’ she replied. ‘She’s had a lot of changes of school, with long gaps in between when she didn’t attend at all. Now she’s in care she’ll have more stability in her life. She’s very behind with her school work.’

      ‘I hate school. I’m not going,’ Melody said, her face setting.

      ‘All children have to go to school,’ Jill said gently.

      ‘I don’t!’ Melody snapped.

      ‘You do, love,’ I said. ‘All the children in this house go to school and tomorrow we’ll buy you a nice new school uniform.’ Not a bribe, but an incentive.

      ‘I was going to mention her clothing,’ Neave said. ‘I’m afraid she just has what she is wearing. Her mother said she has other clothes, but they needed washing.’

      ‘Not a problem,’ I said. ‘We’ll use my emergency supply until we can go shopping and buy her new clothes. The school usually sells the uniform, so we can get that tomorrow morning when we go in.’

      ‘That’ll be nice, won’t it?’ Jill said encouragingly, turning to Melody. ‘Lots of new clothes.’

      Melody scowled, but not quite so forcibly. All children like new things, especially when they haven’t had any before.

      Jill and I returned to the Essential Information Form. The next line was about special educational needs – Melody requires classroom support was printed in the box. The next question asked if the child had any challenging behaviour and printed in the box was Melody has challenging behaviour. She can be angry. The next box about contact arrangements was empty.

      ‘Contact?’ Jill queried.

      ‘I’ll confirm the contact arrangements when I’ve spoken to the Family Centre to check availability,’ Neave said. ‘Melody will have supervised contact with her mother at the Family Centre – I’m anticipating on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, four till five-thirty. You’ll be able to take and collect her?’ Neave asked me. It’s expected that foster carers take children to and from contact, school and any appointments they may have.

      ‘Yes,’ I said, and made a note of the days and times in my diary.

      ‘I want to see my mum now!’ Melody demanded, having finished the biscuits.

      ‘You’ve just seen her,’ Neave said, ‘and you’ll see her again tomorrow – Wednesday.’

      ‘That’s not long,’ Jill said positively.

      ‘I want to see my mum at home!’

      ‘The Family Centre is like a home,’ I said. ‘It’s got sofas to sit on and lots of games to play with. I’ve taken children before and they always have a good time.’

      Melody threw me a withering look and I returned my attention to the form, as did Jill.

      ‘Sibling contact with her half-brothers and sisters?’ Jill asked Neave.

      ‘No, there is no contact.’

      ‘And the care plan is long-term foster care then?’ Jill said.

      ‘Yes,’ Neave confirmed.

      We had come to the end of the form and I placed my copy in my fostering folder.

      ‘I’ll need to arrange a LAC review,’ Neave now said. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as I have the details.’ LAC stands for ‘Looked After Child’, and all children in care have regular reviews to make sure everything is being done as it should to help them. The first review is usually held within the first four weeks of a child coming into care.

      Toscha, our very old, docile and lovable cat sauntered out from behind the sofa where she’d been sleeping next to the radiator.

      ‘A cat!’ Melody cried in horror.

      ‘Don’t you like cats?’ Jim asked her.

      ‘No, they’re horrible. They have fleas that bite you.’ She began scratching her legs and I saw she had a lot of old insect bites.

      ‘Toscha doesn’t have fleas,’ I said.

      ‘My mum says all cats have fleas.’

      ‘I treat Toscha with flea drops so she doesn’t ever get them,’ I explained.

      ‘Do you have cats at home?’ Jill asked.

      ‘They come in when we open the door.’

      ‘There’s always a lot of stray cats around the entrance to the house and inside the communal hallway,’ Neave said. ‘I don’t expect anyone treats them.’

      ‘Try not to scratch,’ I said. ‘You’ll make them worse. I’ll put some antiseptic ointment on after your bath tonight.’

      ‘I don’t have baths,’ Melody said firmly. ‘It’s too cold.’ I’d heard similar before from other children I’d fostered who’d come from homes where they couldn’t afford heating and hot water.

      ‘It’s warm here,’ I reassured her. ‘The central heating

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