A Dark Secret: Part 3 of 3. Casey Watson

he had a lot to try and process – I went rootling in the spare room for something smart for him to wear.

      But if I’d been surprised by Sam’s reaction (albeit less so once I’d thought about it) I was even more surprised, when he appeared later that afternoon, by just how much thinking he had clearly been doing as well.

      Tyler was home by now, and the pair of us were sitting in the kitchen, having a catch-up about the vagaries of our respective days.

‘Alright, mate?’ Tyler said to Sam as he hovered in the kitchen doorway.

      ‘Cool,’ Sam replied, then turned immediately to me. ‘Casey,’ he asked, ‘if I go to auntie Maureen’s, how many stars will I earn?’

      His look was open and guileless, and because the question was so unexpected, I dithered for a bit before deciding how best to answer. This was such a U-turn and I wasn’t sure quite where it had come from. Or, more importantly, where it might be headed. The last thing I wanted was to drag him there against his will, if to do so would set him back emotionally.

      ‘Hmm …’ I said, pretending to calculate, but I dithered so long that Tyler clearly felt obliged to answer for me. It was only a matter of seconds but they had obviously seemed to stretch.

      ‘Oh, a lot, I should think,’ he said. ‘Ten, you reckon, Mum? Twenty? What’s the plan, mate?’ he added. ‘Are you saving stars for something special?’

      Sam nodded. ‘But it’s a secret.’ He looked at me once again. ‘And Casey,’ he added, ‘if I go to auntie Maureen’s, can it just be for the daytime? So I’m not gone too long? Maybe Sampson could collect me and bring me home again? I’ll be a good boy till you’re back again, I promise.’

Home again. It made my heart melt. But what was this all about? And was that the answer? To bite the bullet and just drive up and back on the day? I’d yet to speak to Mike, of course, but I’d pretty much decided now that Sam would simply come with us after all. That I’d ask the B&B we’d booked into if they had a put-you-up bed he could sleep on, next to Tyler.

      ‘Love, we can’t leave you home alone. And, you know, I thought you could perhaps come with us after all. I have to speak to Mike, but –’

      ‘No, it’s fine,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ll be a good boy and go to auntie Maureen’s, and earn lots of stars.’

      He really had thought all this through. He was bargaining with me.

      ‘Well, as I say, love, I’ll have to speak to Mike,’ I said. ‘Let’s see when he gets home, shall we?’

      He nodded. Emphatically. Straight-backed, like a little soldier. ‘It’s fine,’ he said again. ‘Auntie Maureen will look after me.’

      ‘Of course she will,’ I agreed.

      ‘And I’ll be good, and she’ll play with me. She likes playing with me. She has painting stuff and dinky cars and Lego and all sorts.’ And with that little pronouncement, he trotted across the kitchen. ‘Look, Tyler,’ he said, ‘have you seen how many stars I’ve got? And now I’m going to earn even more. Are there any difficult jobs for me to do, Casey?’

Sam loved his ‘difficult’ jobs – particularly sorting the recycling. But I wasn’t quite so keen on the difficult job I had myself. To decide whether to take Sam at his word. It was just gone eight, and growing dark, and as I pulled the living-room curtains, I was still trying to fathom what was happening in Sam’s head. What had changed. Because something clearly had. Since he’d made his pronouncement, he’d become really chatty about auntie Maureen, describing the games they’d played, the songs they’d sung, the TV programmes they’d watched together, the fairy cakes they’d made and the deliciousness of her lemon buns. Had having time to reflect made him realise he missed her? Had that overridden his fear of re-visiting a place that was so close to his former home?

      But then there were the stars, and the secret. I really didn’t know what to make of it.

      ‘Well, I don’t know what to make of it either,’ Mike said, rubbing a hand over his stubble. ‘He clearly has a plan on, but what? And why? What’s his motivation? Perhaps we should just forget the whole thing and take him with us after all.’

      ‘I wish I could decide what’s best,’ I said. ‘Because he really seems keen to go now. I’m just really anxious now about him being away from us overnight. What if he has one of his night terrors? I think I might call Christine tomorrow. And maybe Colin, too. Get their perspective on it.’

‘I doubt they’ll have anything to offer that we haven’t already considered, love. It’s your instinct I trust, so whatever you decide is fine by me. And I’m genuinely happy to go up and back in a day if you decide that’s best.’ He grinned. ‘Look on the bright side, it’ll spare the kids the embarrassment of my dad-dancing, won’t it? And it’ll spare you one of your epic Prosecco headaches. And don’t look at me like that. Because that’s exactly what you will have.’

      He was right. I rarely drank, so when I did, I always suffered. And I knew my sister would egg me on, too. ‘Or maybe we do just take him.’

      ‘As I say, it’s up to you, love. On recent evidence, for what it’s worth, I think he’ll be fine at the wedding. When was the last time we had a meltdown? As in a major-maelstrom meltdown? And I don’t for a minute think Donna will mind if he tags along. Nor Chloe – unless she’s come from a completely different planet, she’ll be on Planet Bride, so, chances are, she’ll barely notice he’s there.’

      By the time I woke up on Friday morning, I was pretty much decided. I’d feel happier if we simply took Sam with us. But would it mean him missing out on a great opportunity? Because I truly felt a continuing relationship with Mrs Gallagher could be good for Sam. I also knew it might help preserve another connection. An even more important one: that with his siblings, something I’d been thinking about a lot.

      I knew the official line would remain the same till Sam was formally assessed – that he was so unstable, and violent, that they were better off without him. And possibly he them – after all, he was down as query autistic, and, as night followed day, there would be an automatic assumption that he’d find it hard to form attachments, and that he might end up in residential care anyway.

But once they saw the progress he’d made, they would surely rethink. It might not make a huge difference – it was likely that, at some stage, they would both be adopted; they were both still young enough, anyway – and if that happened the council would have no control over whether a relationship with Sam would continue. But it was surely worth fighting for, wasn’t it? And all the time he was in foster care, it would still be on the table. And, in Mrs Gallagher, there was an ongoing link which might otherwise cease to exist.