‘Very well, thank you,’ I replied.
‘Shall I take off my shoes?’ he asked, coming in and seeing ours paired in the hall.
‘Yes, please, if you don’t mind.’ For hygiene and comfort we always take off our shoes when coming into the house, as do my extended family and friends, but some professionals don’t, they march straight in, effectively using our carpets as a doormat. I find it disrespectful, although I rarely say anything.
‘Would you like a drink?’ I asked Andrew.
‘Coffee, please.’
I showed him into the living room. Oskar was still holding my hand, so I gently eased it free and directed him to sit on the sofa. ‘You can talk to Andrew while I make him a coffee,’ I said. It was important Oskar got to know his social worker. ‘Milk and sugar?’ I asked Andrew.
‘Just milk, please.’
I left the two of them sitting on the sofa while I went into the kitchen. Sammy came in through the cat flap, ignored me and went into the living room to see who was there. I heard him meow and then Andrew asked Oskar what the cat was called. ‘Sammy,’ Oskar replied. ‘I’m allowed to feed him sometimes.’
I returned to the living room with Andrew’s coffee, set it on the table within his reach and asked him if he wanted to speak to Oskar alone. It’s usual for the social worker to spend some time alone with the child in case the child wants to raise something they don’t feel comfortable saying in front of the foster carer. It’s a strange feeling, being shut out in your own home, aware you are probably being talked about, but it’s something foster carers have to get used to.
‘You can stay for now,’ Andrew said. ‘Then I’ll see Oskar alone later.’ He took a sip of his coffee and I sat in one of the easy chairs opposite them, my fostering folder beside me, although many of the issues I needed to raise wouldn’t be in front of Oskar.
‘How are you settling in?’ Andrew asked Oskar. Setting down his cup, he took a notepad and pen from his briefcase.
‘OK,’ Oskar said with his characteristic small shrug.
‘Do you like having your own room?’ Andrew asked, turning slightly so he could see him better.
‘Yes,’ Oskar said in a slight voice.
‘I’ll have a look at your bedroom before I leave,’ Andrew said. ‘Do you sleep well?’
Oskar shrugged.
‘Surprisingly well so far,’ I said.
‘Good.’ He made a note. ‘What time does he go to bed?’
‘We start his bath and bedtime routine at around seven o’clock, so he is usually asleep by eight. I wake him at seven to get ready for school.’ Andrew was making notes. The social worker usually wanted to know the child’s routine.
‘And what about meals?’ he asked Oskar. ‘Do you have meals with the family?’
Oskar looked a bit unsure, so I said, ‘We all have dinner together in the evening.’
‘Are you having what you like to eat?’ Andrew now asked him.
Oskar gave a small nod.
‘He’s eating well,’ I said. ‘He chose some rolls yesterday that he liked and he’s been having those for breakfast. It would be useful to know what he eats at home with his mother and his likes and dislikes.’
Andrew wrote as he said, ‘When his mother returns, I’ll ask her.’
Oskar was now staring at his social worker at the mention of his mother, and Andrew saw this. ‘I’ve spoken to your mother on the telephone,’ he told him. ‘She will see you when she comes back. She’s with Luka now, but I think you know that, don’t you?’
Oskar nodded.
‘I’ve told your mother you are in foster care and are being well looked after. She is hoping to fly back this weekend if she can get a cheap flight. I’ll arrange for you to see her next week and tell Cathy the details, all right?’
Oskar gave another small nod and Andrew took a sip from his coffee. Oskar’s reaction to being told he would be seeing his mother next week was completely underwhelming and was very unusual for a child in care. Most children separated from their parent are ecstatic at the prospect of seeing them again.
‘Do you have any questions?’ Andrew asked him.
‘How is Luka?’ Oskar said.
‘He’s getting better and is back home with his aunt now.’ Andrew then looked at me. ‘Luka has cerebral palsy and is cared for by an aunt and her family. Oskar’s mother, Roksana, works here and sends money to the aunt to look after Luka. He’s been ill and had to go into hospital. Roksana wanted to see Luka and also had a money matter she needed to sort out.’
‘I see,’ I said. ‘What a worry for her. Does Oskar see his brother?’
‘Roksana said she takes him once a year at Christmas.’ Oskar was nodding. ‘Roksana can’t afford to go home any more frequently, but as this was an emergency she scraped together the airfare for her to go and left Oskar at home with friends he calls aunts and uncles. The childcare arrangements are a bit complicated and it’s something I’ll be discussing with Roksana when she returns.’
‘I see,’ I said, and wondered if I might have done the two men waiting outside the school a disservice.
‘Do you have any more questions?’ Andrew asked Oskar.
He shook his head.
‘Do you have everything you need to look after Oskar?’ Andrew now asked me. It was a standard question asked by the child’s social worker and my supervising social worker.
‘Yes, although some more background information would be useful.’
‘That reminds me,’ he said, dipping his hand into his briefcase. ‘I’ve got your copy of the placement forms.’ He took them out and passed them to me. I tucked them into my fostering folder to read later.
‘Your adult children live here too?’ he asked me, glancing at the framed photographs of them on the walls.
‘Yes. Adrian, Lucy and Paula. They’ll be back shortly.’
Andrew made a note. ‘And Oskar has age-appropriate self-care skills and is dry at night?’
‘Yes.’ It was another standard question; this type of information was needed for the report Andrew would write on his visit. He would also be observing Oskar in the placement and watching how he was settling in and relating to us – his foster family.
‘If Oskar could have more of his toys from home that would be good,’ I said.
‘Yes, of course,’ Andrew agreed as he wrote. ‘I’ll ask Roksana when she returns. But I can see you’ve got plenty of toys here in the meantime.’
I smiled. ‘Yes, I’ve been fostering a long time.’
‘What do you like playing?’ Andrew now asked Oskar.
He shrugged.
‘You did a jigsaw puzzle,’ I prompted, but Oskar didn’t add anything. ‘I’m still trying to find out what interests him,’ I told Andrew. ‘He likes a bedtime story, but he’s still wary of us all.’
It was only as I said this that I fully acknowledged just how true it was. Oskar was very wary around all of us, especially Adrian, more so than I would have expected or had experienced, and for reasons I couldn’t identify.
‘You like living here with Cathy and her family?’ Andrew asked Oskar, who was still sitting impassively on the sofa beside