that special shampoo we used to use on our kids when they were little?’ It took a few seconds, but, with the help of my scratching my head somewhat emphatically, it eventually dawned on him what I meant. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Good idea! Anything else I need to get while I’m there?’
I was just about to open my mouth, when Olivia piped up. ‘Could you get us some stuff for our nits, Mike?’ she asked him. ‘Anna said you’d get rid of ’em for us.’
While Mike set off to get the head-lice shampoo, I thought it would be a good idea to take the children to meet Kieron and Bob. They were both chilling in the sunshine, Kieron asleep on my sun lounger and the dog, more practically, given his fur, stretched out in the shade under a bush. The children whooped, and immediately ran to pet him, which woke up Kieron, who sat up, still sleepy. He rubbed his eyes for a bit before fixing his gaze on the two little ones and exclaiming, ‘What the …? Oh my God, Mum!’
‘Hush!’ I chided. ‘They’re not deaf, Kieron, for goodness’ sake. And besides, it’s just dirt. We’ll soon have them cleaned up. Oh, and they have head lice, just to warn you, so not too close, eh?’
He wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘Oh, don’t worry. I won’t be.’ But then he jumped up from the sun lounger. ‘Hey, you two!’ he called. ‘How about you come and tell me who you both are, then?’
Ashton shyly introduced himself, once again adopting that rather stiff, formal expression he had when he’d arrived. It was rather endearing, I thought. It was as if he knew he had a responsibility to set a good example for his little sister, by giving a good account of himself. A responsibility he clearly took very seriously.
‘An’ this is my little sister. She’s called Olivia,’ he explained. ‘But you can probably call her Livs, can’t he, Livs?’
He turned to his sister, who was blushing now, under Kieron’s smiling scrutiny.
‘Can I?’ asked Kieron. ‘Would that be okay with you?’
Olivia stood and thought for some time before answering. ‘Maybe,’ she said eventually.
Kieron nodded seriously. ‘Well, you just let me know when,’ he said. ‘Okay?’ It was difficult for me to keep a straight face.
Olivia it was, then. For the moment at least. But so far, so good. As they had clearly warmed to Kieron – he was such a sunny personality, it was difficult for anyone not to – I suggested that it was he who led the tour of their new bedrooms, while I went off to phone his sister, Riley. There was no way I was going to put the kids in any of the things that had come with them – they were fit for nowhere but an incinerator – so I needed some clothes for them urgently. And, bless her, Riley said she’d head straight into town and get them two sets of T-shirt and shorts, plus flip-flops, and some underwear to see us through the night. Once they were respectable, of course, I could take them in myself, to choose their own clothes and nightwear, but for now that would do. Thank goodness it was summer.
I joined the party upstairs just as Mike returned with the bug-zapping lotion. It was almost lunchtime but I had a higher priority. To see the lice gone before they infested the whole family. They might not be able to jump but they were very efficient crawlers, and anxious young children needed lots of hugs and cuddles. Not a very practical combination if we wanted to stay nit-free.
‘Right,’ I said, brandishing my family-sized bottle. ‘Time to get you both showered!’
The effect was electric. They both huddled on Olivia’s bed. ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked them. ‘You need to get in the shower so I can do your heads with my special magic shampoo.’
‘We’re scared,’ Olivia whimpered. ‘We don’t fink we like showered.’
‘There’s nothing to be scared of,’ said Mike in his best reassuring voice. ‘Casey and Kieron and me all have a shower every day. It’s lovely. You’ll enjoy it. Tell you what –’ He gestured towards Ashton. ‘Ashton’s the eldest, and he’s a big boy, so how about he goes first? That way he can show you how easy it all is. Come on Ash!’ he said jovially. Ashton looked terrified but, bless him, he got off the bed and followed Mike, albeit very reluctantly, into the bathroom.
Olivia, at this, leapt up and followed the pair of them, huddling nervously behind me in the doorway. Us helping the children shower was unusual in itself. But one of the things Anna had mentioned as an afterthought was that they’d both need quite a lot of help with personal care – washing, hair washing, toileting, teeth cleaning – since they had no idea how to look after themselves. This was something that would have to be written into the safe-care agreement; a document that every carer has created for them and filed, for each different child they look after. It details care specifics such as whether the child is allowed to play outside, whether they are fit to travel alone and so on, and also contains details that cover the carer in the case of any allegations, including whether help with personal care is needed, and the specifics of privacy in the child’s bedroom.
That this short placement would be quite physical was clearly evident, and I was reminded, as Mike helped Ashton to take his raggy clothes off, that we would need to be sure the document covered that. Then, when he’d done, Mike turned on the shower and, having checked the temperature, helped Ashton to stand in it. It was only seconds before the air was filled with a series of piercing screams. ‘Arrrgh!’ he cried. ‘Arrrgh! It really hurts! Get me out!’
Mike had had his back to me, but now he turned around, his expression grim.
‘Grab me a towel, Case,’ he said. ‘I need to get him out of there.’
I grabbed one from the pile of clean ones we’d brought in from the airing cupboard, and it was only as I thrust it at Mike that I could properly see all the raw sores that covered Ashton’s skinny little body.
I threw the towel over him myself, while Mike turned off the water, and tried to calm him while gingerly patting him dry through the fabric. I had never seen anything quite like it.
‘There, there, sweetheart,’ I said to him. ‘It’s okay now. No shower. Perhaps a bath would be best.’
He nodded, sniffing away his tears. ‘I can do a bath,’ he said bravely. It was gut-wrenching. Horrible. How could these kids be in this state and the social worker have no idea?
‘How long have you had all these nasty sore spots all over you, sweetie?’ I asked him.
He shook his head, his wet hair forming commas on his brow. ‘I dunno. A long time. I dunno. Always?’
Olivia too was covered in similar sores and scabs, just as we’d anticipated. Scabies, I guessed. Something like that, anyway. We’d have to have a doctor check them out and treat them as soon as possible. Many looked infected and were weeping. It was as grim a sight as I’d seen in a long time, and had particularly upset Kieron, who’d had tears in his eyes when he’d come to see the source of the commotion, while Mike and I had got Ashton out of the shower.
We helped Ashton carefully into the bath and Mike and I tried to gently wash him, between us, while Kieron perched on the loo seat, with Olivia on his lap, trying to stem her increasingly fearful tears.
This was as up close and personal as we’d been as a foster family, and though our modern bathroom no way resembled that Victorian orphanage, I wondered what anyone might make of the scene, should they see it – they could be forgiven for thinking we’d procured these two little ones via time-travel, because they really did look like they belonged in another age. It was hard to believe how much filth and grime came off Ashton that day. We sponged him gently – never scrubbing – but even so, the grisly gnarly scabs kept sloughing off, revealing bright red inflamed skin underneath. It was so pitiful it even made tears well in my own eyes. They’d obviously been living like animals.
This was brought home most forcibly when I tried to clean his battered feet and, taking a good look at them, because they looked so odd, decided Ashton must have webbed toes. It was very rare, but not that rare, so he could well have. ‘Mike,’ I said, nudging