to your husband?’ Terri asked.
‘Sometimes, a little. But he only sees him for a few minutes in the evening, and at the weekends, when Richard’s not playing golf. Danny doesn’t talk like other children his age do. He doesn’t have a conversation; he repeats what you say or nods or comes out with half-sentences and words that don’t make any sense. Then he gets frustrated because you don’t understand what he wants, and that leads to a tantrum. Yet he can talk to George or himself. Danny would rather talk to himself or his rabbit than to me.’
‘Does Danny smile or laugh or show his feelings?’ Terri asked.
‘Not often. His expression is usually blank. Sometimes he’ll suddenly laugh but it’s not at the right time or in the right context, if you know what I mean. He can laugh loudly – cackle – for no obvious reason. He does it in public. It’s so embarrassing. It’s impossible to know if Danny is happy or not, and he doesn’t show physical affection normally. He’ll let you touch him sometimes, but only on his terms. He let me hold him in the playground just now and carry him into school, but I can’t remember the last time he let me cuddle him. It’s as though he doesn’t want or need anyone else. Not even his mother.’
‘I’m sure he does need you,’ I said. ‘But he has difficulty showing it.’
Terri and Sue nodded in agreement.
‘But other children kiss and hug their mothers,’ Reva blurted, her eyes filling again. ‘I’ve seen them in the playground kissing and hugging their parents goodbye when it’s time to go into school. Danny just turns and walks away with his classroom assistant. She has to tell him to say goodbye to me. He shouldn’t need telling. Other children don’t, but Danny seems to have no empathy or feelings. If I cry in front of him, he just looks at me.’ Reva was in tears again.
‘I’m sure Danny does feel things,’ Terri said seriously, looking at Reva, ‘just as you and I do, but the difference is Danny can’t express them. It’s a trait of autism, if that is what Danny has.’
‘And he does love you, just as other children love their parents,’ I added, trying to console Reva.
‘How can you be so sure?’ she demanded, taking another tissue from her bag. ‘You’ve only just met Danny. Wait until you know him better, you’ll see. He’ll be as cold to you as he is to me.’
I didn’t reply. Reva was very upset and didn’t mean to be rude.
‘Sorry,’ she said after a moment.
‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘I can appreciate how upsetting Danny’s behaviour is for you.’
‘Have you fostered anyone like him before?’ Reva now asked, wiping her eyes.
‘No two children are the same,’ I said. ‘But I have seen some of Danny’s behaviour in other children.’
‘Do you think he is autistic?’ she asked me.
‘I don’t know. And it would be wrong for me to guess.’
‘The education psychologist is the person who should make the diagnosis,’ Terri put in. ‘I’ll speak to your husband about it.’ I saw Terri glance at her watch. She had to leave in fifteen minutes to go to her other meeting. ‘We still need to talk about contact,’ she said. ‘But before we do, are there any strategies you’ve found particularly helpful in managing Danny’s behaviour that you would like to pass on to Cathy?’
Reva shrugged. ‘Not really. I just do what Danny wants to keep the peace, but that doesn’t always work either.’
It won’t, I thought but didn’t say. Boundaries for good behaviour are essential for all children; as well as socializing the child they show them that the parent cares, whatever syndrome or condition the child may have. I knew Reva had developed some strategies for managing Danny’s behaviour, although she probably didn’t realize it.
‘You taught Danny how to put on his clothes in the correct order,’ I now said to her. ‘That’s important. Without it Danny would become frustrated, which could lead to a tantrum. So that’s a useful strategy.’
Reva looked at me thoughtfully. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t really thought of it that way.’
‘And you’ve taught Danny a workable bedtime routine that includes him washing his face, brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed,’ I said. ‘These are all strategies that help him to cope with daily tasks that are simple to us but not to Danny. You taught him all of that.’
A faint smile crossed Reva’s face. ‘Have you noticed how methodical Danny is?’ she said. ‘He loves doing things in order. Patterns and order are his lifeline. Mealtimes used to be a nightmare, but then we discovered that as long as he can eat his food in order of colour he’s fine. He always starts by eating the palest food first and then the darker. It takes him a while, but it works.’
I now realized that that was what Danny must have been doing at dinner the evening before when he’d arranged the components of the casserole around the edge of his plate. He’d eaten them a pile at a time, the lightest first: chicken, potatoes, carrots and then peas.
‘So you’ve created quite a few strategies to help him without realizing it,’ Terri said.
‘I suppose I have,’ Reva said, and her eyes filled again. But this time her emotion wasn’t from despair; it was the realization that she had been doing some things right after all. ‘Thank you,’ she said, looking at me.
‘There’s no need to thank me. You’re the one who’s been helping Danny to cope all these years.’
And her look of gratitude made my own eyes fill.
‘Well done, Reva,’ Terri said, and Sue smiled. ‘Now to contact,’ Terri said. I took my diary and pen from my handbag and opened it on the table in front of me. ‘You and your husband obviously want to see Danny regularly,’ Terri said to Reva. ‘So I suggest we set contact at two evenings a week, and one day at the weekend. The care plan is for Danny to return home as soon as possible, so we need to keep the bond between you strong. We can review the contact arrangements as we go and adjust them up once Danny is more settled.’
Reva nodded.
‘I suggest Tuesday and Thursday evening after school, starting tomorrow,’ Terri said. ‘Reva, if you collect Danny from school on those nights and take him home and give him dinner, then return him to Cathy’s at about six o’clock, then he’ll have a little while to settle before he has to go to bed.’
‘And time to feed George,’ I put in, aware this was going to be part of Danny’s evening routine.
‘Yes, absolutely,’ Reva agreed.
‘Good,’ Terri said, making a note. I also wrote the arrangements in my diary. ‘I was going to suggest telephone contact on the nights Danny doesn’t see you,’ Terri said. ‘But I’m not sure Danny would cope with it.’
‘No, he doesn’t use the telephone,’ Reva said. ‘It frightens him.’
‘OK, so no telephone contact,’ Terri confirmed as she wrote. ‘Which day of the weekend would suit you and your husband best?’ she now asked Reva. ‘When does Richard play golf?’
‘Sunday mainly.’
‘So we’ll make the weekend contact on Saturday. Cathy will bring Danny to you and you can return him.’
I wrote this in my diary.
‘As routine is so important to Danny,’ Terri said, ‘it’s essential we all keep to the contact agreements.’
Even for a child in care under a Section 20, where the parents retain full legal responsibility for the child, it is important to adhere to the timetable of contact, otherwise the child can become very unsettled (for example, if the parents keep changing contact arrangements, or suddenly turn up at the foster carer’s home