The Saddest Girl In The World Part 10

'I don't think Donna is capable of that type of manipulation,' I said. 'But obviously I can't know for sure.'

'No. OK, Cathy. Thanks. I'll speak to the boys later. If Donna says anything else, will you let me know, please, and also could you print out a copy of your notes and let me have them tomorrow at contact. I hope Donna is making this up.'

'Yes,' I agreed. 'So do I.'

Edna phoned that evening from the office at 7.00 p.m., after she had seen Warren and Jason. 'They have been sworn to secrecy,' she said. 'I knew from their faces there was something they weren't telling me. Jason was about to say something but Warren elbowed him in the ribs to make him be quiet. Mary and Ray are going to talk to the boys separately, and see if they can find out anything. I shall also be having a word with Chelsea to see if she can throw any light on this, although I'll have to get her away from Rita first; they're as thick as thieves at present. I take it Donna hasn't said any more?'

'No. If she does know anything further it will come out in her own time.'

'All right. Thanks, Cathy. I'm off home now.'

Every evening after school, Donna, Adrian and Paula did their homework before watching children's television. Paula's homework was usually reading; Adrian had work sheets to complete and sometimes needed help; Donna had reading and work sheets and required more help. She was on a reading scheme designed for the average seven-year-old and starting to make some progress. In addition to the reading and work sheets, she had been asked to start learning her times tables, ready for a test on Friday. The whole cla.s.s was being tested on the two times table, and I knew that when Beth Adams had told me of this new target she hadn't held out much hope for Donna being able to learn and fluently recite the table. I was determined we would prove her wrong. Donna had mild learning difficulties but it didn't mean she couldn't learn.

Armed with a whiteboard and black marker pen, I took Donna into the lounge after dinner, and we sat on the floor. I slowly recited the two times table as she wrote down the numbers. Beth Adams had given each of the cla.s.s a printed sheet with the table on it, but what I had in mind would be more visually stimulating, and therefore more likely to be remembered. It would also be more fun than a typed piece of paper. Donna wrote very slowly and meticulously as I repeated the table, rubbing out a number if she wasn't completely satisfied. Her writing was a stark contrast to Adrian's: the same age, he wrote in a flurry, covering pages with writing as his thoughts spilled out. It was quarter of an hour before Donna was satisfied with the columns of figures she had produced, and we then sat either side of the whiteboard and I pointed to each line and we read it together: 0 2 = 0, 1 2 = 2, 2 2 = 4, and so on until the end. We went through it a second time, and then a third time to familiarise Donna with the pattern and rhythm of the table.

'OK, Donna,' I said, 'now we are going to learn it in groups of three. That's easier than trying to learn the whole table to the end.' I covered up the lower nine lines of the table with a sheet of paper, leaving only the top three lines visible, and we read them together: '0 2 = 0, 1 2 = 2, 2 2 = 4.' Then I told Donna to read these first three lines by herself out loud, which she did with some hesitancy. Then a second and third time.

'Good,' I said. 'Now I want you to look away. Look at the wall and see how many of these first three lines you can remember.' This would have been ridiculously easy for the average child of ten, and indeed for a much younger child, but Donna had learning difficulties and I knew she would need more reinforcement and time to learn.

'I can't,' she said flatly, glancing between the wall and the three exposed lines of figures.

'Yes you can,' I said positively. I felt, as Mrs Bristow had, that some of Donna's learning difficulties could well be due to lack of confidence.

'I don't know them,' Donna said, not even willing to try.

'Yes you do. I'll help you to get started. We'll read the first three lines together again, and then I want you to look away and see if you can remember any of them.'

'0 2 = 0, 1 2 = 2, 2 2 = 4,' we chanted together.

'OK, Donna, look away and have a go. 0 2 = ' I said, leaving the answer blank.

'0,' Donna said.

'1 2 = ' I said.

'2,' Donna supplied, then unaided she said, '2 2 = 4.'

'Excellent!' I said. 'Now again from the beginning. 0 2 = '

'0. 1 2 = 2, 2 2 = 4,' she said.

'Well done!' I clapped. 'And again, this time a bit faster.'

'0 2 = 0, 1 2 = 2, 2 2 = 4.' She was smiling now, almost grinning, and surprised at her ability to achieve something she hadn't thought was possible.

'Right,' I said, 'now we are going to look at the next three in the table.' I slid down the paper that covered the whiteboard to reveal the next set of three, and we read them together: '3 2 = 6, 4 2 = 8, 5 2 = 10.' We read them a second and third time, and then Donna read them alone. Then as before I got her to look away and, with less resistance this time, she recited them - to her utter amazement and my great relief and praise. Before we attempted the next set of three I wanted her to consolidate what she had learned so far and hear and see the rhythm of the first six lines. We read the lines together twice, then I got her to look away and she began to recite them from memory. She hesitated and needed prompting but we got there in the end.

So we continued for the next forty minutes, with me releasing three lines at a time and endless repeating and consolidating what she had learned, until we reached 12 2 = 24. When it came to putting them altogether and reciting the whole table, Donna's confidence faltered, and she said she couldn't remember any of it. I said we'd recite it together, which we did, with my voice mainly in the background as a prompt. Donna faltered with 6 2, 8 2 and 9 2, got 10 2, and then fell away again at the end. I told her how well she had done and she glowed from the praise. 'We're stopping now,' I said. 'That's enough for tonight. You must be tired out.'

The following morning in the car instead of having the radio on I began reciting the two times table. Adrian joined in, and on my second run through so did Donna, very quietly and only offering those she was sure of. I was concerned that Adrian, completely fluent in all his tables (as were most of his cla.s.s), shouldn't emphasise Donna's learning difficulties by his prowess. After I had dropped Donna off at school I explained to Adrian (and Paula) that Donna could learn as well as anyone but it took her a little longer and perhaps they could curtail their enthusiasm, especially Adrian, when we practised the times tables in the car. Such a conversation was always difficult for me when we looked after a child with learning difficulties, for clearly I had to acknowledge and praise my own children for their achievements, without undermining that of the fostered child, who was finding learning more difficult. That afternoon when I collected Donna from school I set up the chant of the two times table in the car and all three children joined in, with Adrian and Paula, as I had asked them, giving Donna the louder voice.

I went through the two times table again with Donna that evening - just the two of us, seated in the lounge. She was fluent up to 5 2 but then stumbled on 6 2, 7 2, 8 2 and 9 2, picking up the rhythm again for the last three. And so we continued for the rest of the week, chanting the table in the car and at home at any opportunity. It had turned into something of a game, with Donna now asking if we could run through it just one more time, which I always did, although secretly I was sick of the sound of it, as I'm sure Adrian and Paula were. But I wasn't doing it solely so that Donna knew her table but also to prove to her that she could do it, which would raise her confidence and help her learning and self-esteem in general.

On Thursday evening, the day before she was going to be tested at school, she stumbled a few times on the first run-through, and then managed it word perfect. I praised her immensely and said, 'Donna, there is something I want to try now. Don't worry if you can't do it but just have a go. I'm going to ask you questions on the tables, jump around and see if you know the answers. You have done so well learning them, so let's see how well you can do these.' I began easily with 2 2 and she gave the correct answer of 4; then I asked 5 2 and she answered 10. I returned to 0 2, then 3 2 and so on, until I had covered the easy ones; then I began on those that had caused Donna problems.

'6 2?' I asked.

'12.'

'Excellent! 8 2?' She didn't know, and I saw her confidence immediately tumble. 'Don't worry,' I said. 'Go back to the last one you do know and say the table from there in your head. You know 5 2.'

'10,' she said.

'So in your head, go on from there.'

Half a minute later she had come up with the right answer of 16. I clapped and said, 'Great! Excellent!' I knew that in the test she might not have time to go through the whole table to supply the answer, and I hoped she wouldn't panic and forget the lot, so I said, 'If Miss Adams asks you one and you can't remember, don't worry, just leave a s.p.a.ce and go on to the next one, which you will know.'

On Friday in the car going to school instead of reciting the table I dotted around with the questions: '3 2? 6 2? 11 2?' I had already primed Adrian and asked him not to answer, and as I glanced in the rear-view mirror I could see him sitting with his lips pursed tightly to stop the answers from spilling out. I smiled at him. Donna couldn't remember 7 2 or 9 2, and took some moments to go through the whole table in her head until she could supply the answer. With lots of praise and wishes of good luck, I saw her into school and returned to the car, with some relief that I wouldn't have to listen to the two times table again until Paula had to learn it in a year or so.

As I opened the door and got in Adrian and Paula were giggling.

'What's the matter with you two?' I asked with a smile.

'Listen to Paula,' Adrian said.

Paula laughed, and then in a bright clear voice she recited the two times table from beginning to end, word perfect. Without learning difficulties, and having listened to the tables in the car, her brain had automatically picked up and stored the information effortlessly. It highlighted the huge work Donna, or any child with learning difficulties, had to put in to achieve the same result.

'Well done,' I said to Paula. 'I expect it will be the three times next week!'

That evening when I met Donna from school the question that was burning on my tongue was answered as soon as I saw her. Her slow laborious way of walking was nowhere to be seen, and she bounded to my side.

'I got them all right!' she said, her face lighting up.

'You did? All of them!'

'Yes. And when Miss Adams jumbled up the questions I answered them!'

'That's absolutely fantastic!'

Beth Adams was just behind Donna and clearly wanted to speak to me. She stepped round the other children, who were filing out and meeting up with their parents in the playground. 'Donna has done amazingly well,' she said. 'She could write the table, recite it and answer all the questions. She has earned two house points for her team.'

We both praised Donna again, although Donna hardly needed our praise; having achieved something she had thought was impossible was praise enough.

I could tell that Beth Adams was pleased, and astounded. 'It's the three times table next week,' she said. 'I've put the work sheet in Donna's bag.'

'Thank you. We'll make a start on it over the weekend.' I did some quick mental arithmetic myself and calculated that if we had to learn one table a week, by the time we got to twelve it would be past Christmas and into the New Year!

We left, as usual, through the staff exit and crossed to the car, where Adrian and Paula were waiting. As Donna got in, without being asked, she said. 'I got them all right!' Adrian and Paula were as pleased as she and I were.

Learning the two times table typified Donna's ability to learn, and also mild learning difficulties in general. She wanted to learn and could learn, but it just took her a bit longer.

That evening when I took Donna to contact the first thing she said when Edna met us in reception was, 'I've learnt my two times table, and I was tested, and got them all right! I got two team points.' Edna knew the significance of this and was truly and genuinely in awe of Donna's achievement. She praised her immensely, and then thanked me for all the hard work I had put in. I later learnt that Beth Adams had asked Donna how she had learned her tables so well, and Donna had told her what we had done. Beth Adams had then phoned Edna and told her of my input, and also that Donna was starting to learn in other areas with a newfound confidence. I was so very pleased.

However, I also learnt that when Donna had gone into contact that evening, and had told her family of her success, her mother and Chelsea had ignored her and turned their backs. Edna had said, 'Rita, Donna's got some good news. Listen to her.' Donna had repeated her news, and Rita had shrugged, while Warren and Jason said, 'Easy peasy,' and laughed. It was Edna who told me this, not Donna: she had just accepted yet another rejection.

Chapter Twelve.

Working as a Family

By the first week in November I was beginning to feel that Donna was making some real progress, and things were going pretty well. Although she still found it almost impossible to play with Adrian and Paula, preferring to watch them or amuse herself, I was finding I could relax a little and be less vigilant when she was in a room with Paula. Donna didn't appear to be trying to dominate and chastise Paula as much as she had done in the past.

The first week in November was a busy one for 'official' visits: Jill and Edna both paid their six-weekly visit, in the evening after school, Jill on Tuesday and Edna on Thursday. I had been in regular contact with both of them since they had last visited - Jill by telephone, and Edna when I saw her briefly before and after contact. Their visits were therefore more perfunctory than they might have been otherwise - just to see Donna at home and make sure everything was going all right. When Edna visited she also took the opportunity of telling me that Warren and Jason still hadn't said anything to Mary and Ray about the 'punishment' (if that was what it was) that they had received in their mother's bed, although, like Edna, Mary and Ray were convinced that the boys were hiding something, and felt that it would take time before they trusted them sufficiently to confide in them. The boys might have been unwilling to betray their mother, as they had been her favourites and they appeared to have a stronger bond with her than Donna did, presumably because their treatment at her hands had been less severe, or their silence might have been based on fear - no one knew at this stage.

The Guardian Ad Litem phoned that week as well and made her first visit the following Tuesday. Her name was Cheryl Samson. She was appointed by the court for the duration of the case and her role was an important one. As the Guardian for the boys and Chelsea as well as Donna, she would visit all the parties involved in the case a number of times, then write a detailed report for the judge, stating her findings and what she believed to be in the long-term best interest for the children. Her final recommendation as to where the children would live permanently would be vital to the judge when he made his decision at the final court hearing in May the following year. Cheryl was an experienced Guardian and quite forthright in her manner. When she arrived she spent some time talking to Donna and me together, and then me alone. She had met all members of Donna's family and was also in regular contact with Edna.

'Donna has been completely rejected and victimised by Rita,' Cheryl said to me, 'to an extent I have never seen before. She has been a scapegoat, blamed for all the family's ills. Why, I don't know, but Rita can't even look at her when they are in the same room. I'm not sure how much good contact is doing Donna, and I shall be looking to reduce it as we approach the final court hearing.'

'For the boys as well?' I asked. If it was just Donna's contact that was reduced it could have appeared to her a further victimisation by singling her out again.

'Absolutely,' Cheryl agreed. 'I can't see there is any way they can return to live at home, so contact needs to be reduced for all the children. Rita can't get off the drink and drugs and she is refusing any help. Edna has put in so much support but there has been no improvement in the home. I do not want Donna and the boys to follow in Chelsea's footsteps. Chelsea is just fifteen and we've now found out she's pregnant!'

'Oh no! Really?'

Cheryl nodded. 'Rita announced it to Edna yesterday after contact, as though it was something to be proud of. Edna has been trying to persuade Chelsea to go into foster care for some time, and Rita told Edna she couldn't move her now she was pregnant. But she's wrong on that count. I want Chelsea moved into a mother and baby unit, a.s.suming she is pregnant and it's not a ruse of Rita's making. Chelsea says she doesn't know who the father is; apparently there's a choice of three.'

I didn't comment; it wasn't for me to pa.s.s judgement on Chelsea's morals, although of course it was illegal to have s.e.xual intercourse with a girl under sixteen. 'Will Chelsea keep the baby?' I asked. I remembered that when I had seen Chelsea outside the school gates on that first day of term she'd appeared grubby and uncared for, barely able to look after herself, let alone a baby.

'We'll give her a chance and monitor her closely, which is another reason why I want her in a mother and baby unit.'

I nodded. 'It's Donna's birthday on the sixteenth of November and she would like a bowling party,' I said, lightening the subject. 'We are going to ask her brothers to come, but what about Chelsea? Should we invite her?'

'It's a nice thought, but Chelsea is sure to turn up with Mum, so I think the answer is no. Edna will arrange a birthday tea for Donna at contact, so Chelsea will have the chance to celebrate Donna's birthday then, if she has a mind to.' I knew what Cheryl meant: judging from the reception Donna had been receiving from Chelsea and Rita at contact it was hardly likely they were going to put much effort into celebrating Donna's birthday. One of the reasons I had suggested we invited Chelsea was to try to forge a better relations.h.i.+p between her and her sister, but I would be guided by the Guardian. I couldn't risk Rita, with her bad att.i.tude towards Donna, turning up at the party and possibly ruining it.

'All right,' I said. 'Is there anyone else in the wider family I should invite? Cousins?'

'No. I should keep it to your family, Donna and the boys. And there's her special friend Emily at school?'

'Yes, that's right. We shall be inviting Emily. Donna doesn't find it very easy to make friends, so there will just be the seven of us, including me.'

Cheryl smiled. 'She'll enjoy it. I doubt she will have had a party before, of any description. I don't think she even had presents on her birthday and Christmas last year.' Which unfortunately was true for many of the children I fostered.

On Sunday I helped Donna to write some colourful birthday invitations; on each one she had to fill in the name of the person invited, the time and the venue, and sign it. I had already booked the bowling alley for Sunday 15 November, the day before Donna's birthday. The package they offered included an organiser/entertainer, two games of bowling for each child, a party tea and a 'goody bag' to take home. I had asked Donna sometime before, when I had first brought up the subject of her birthday, what she had done for her last birthday, and she had shrugged and said she didn't know, from which I had guessed that it was nothing, or something so insignificant as not to merit being treasured as a fond memory. Now as we worked side by side on the table in the annexe, and I watched her slide the invitations into the envelopes and then address them with so much care and precision, I casually brought up the topic again.

'You are doing a really good job there, Donna,' I said. 'Have you ever written birthday invitations before?'

She shook her head. 'No.'

'Not all families have birthday parties, but we do,' I said. 'It's nice to have fun.' She didn't say anything but concentrated on meticulously sliding the next invitation, which was to Warren, into the envelope. 'I think it helps you to remember your birthday if you do something a bit special. It is an important day, after all.'

'I can remember my last birthday,' Donna said stoically. 'Very well. I had to do the was.h.i.+ng.'

I glanced sideways at her. 'Oh yes?'

'Mum said as it was my birthday everyone could have clean clothes. Dad wasn't there, but Mum, Chelsea and the boys all went and changed and brought me their dirty was.h.i.+ng. Then Mum went round the house and gathered up all the clothes and rags that were lying around, and the stuff from her wardrobe, and dumped it in the kitchen. I spent all day was.h.i.+ng. We didn't have a was.h.i.+ng machine like you do, and it took ages in the sink. Then I had to try and get it dry, 'cos no one had any more clean clothes, and we didn't have a was.h.i.+ng line. Mum hit me with a wet towel when I couldn't get it dry, and then told Chelsea and the boys to hit me.'

I looked at her and swallowed hard. Donna had said it so matter-of-factly she could have been telling me how she'd poached an egg; she was now carefully filling in her name on the next invitation, making sure she didn't make a mistake. I couldn't speak for the lump in my throat and I waited for the moment to pa.s.s.

'How do you spell Adrian?' she asked glancing up at me.

I swallowed again, and spelt it out. 'Donna, love,' I said, placing my hand on her arm and trying to raise a smile, 'one thing I can guarantee is that you won't be doing any was.h.i.+ng on your birthday this year, or at any time in my house.'

She smiled sadly.

When she'd finished writing the invitations I asked Donna again if there was anyone else in her cla.s.s or the school whom she wanted to invite to her party, but there wasn't; she then gave me my invitation, and Adrian and Paula theirs. We smiled and thanked her. Donna would give out Emily's and her brothers' invitations at school the following day. I opened my invitation and said I would be happy to come to her party and she smiled.

However, at bedtime when I tucked Paula into bed she said in a subdued and embarra.s.sed voice, 'Mum, I don't want to go to Donna's party. Do I have to?'

I looked at her, surprised - that wasn't like her. 'Why not?' I asked. 'What's the matter? There's only us and Warren, Jason and Emily going.'

'Nothing's the matter. I don't want to go,' she said quietly.

I sat on the bed. 'Paula, there is something the matter. You must have a good reason for not wanting to go to something as important as Donna's birthday party?'

'I don't like her,' she said and she looked at me, half-expecting to be told off. This was totally out of character for Paula, and I knew there must be something badly worrying her. I settled myself on the bed for a long chat. Paula wasn't easily fazed, but when something did trouble her it became ingrained and took a while to uncover.

'What made you say you didn't like Donna?' I asked gently. 'I know she doesn't play with you, but she hasn't hit you again, has she?'

Paula shook her head. 'She didn't hit me.'

'So what has made you feel like this?' There was a long pause. 'Come on, Paula, I need to know so that I can put it right. This is important for all of us. If something is going on you must tell me.'

There was another long pause before Paula eventually said, 'Adrian doesn't like her either.'

I was taken aback, and also a little annoyed that I wasn't getting any closer to the root cause of the problem. Clearly there had been a conversation between Adrian and Paula that I hadn't been party to. 'Why doesn't Adrian like Donna?' I asked.

'Same reason as me.'