The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2680 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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I took Hannah into my study and explained what had transpired last night. She obviously hadn’t spoken with Livvie because it was all news to her. I reported what David had told me of Ingrid’s offer to let her stay with us.

“You can’t believe anything she says, she’ll have changed her mind by this morning.”

“I thought I’d ask our friendly, neighbourhood social worker to come with me to see her.”

“She’ll lie through her teeth.”

“It was just a thought that might have brought an element of resolution to your situation, for a while at least.”

“If you say that in English I might understand it.”

“I was hoping it would allow you to stay here for a bit.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I picked up the phone and called social services asking to be put through to Ms Whittington. She answered and I explained what Ingrid had said. She reminded me that fostering or adoption required the agency of social services or an equally respected body. I asked her if she was free if she could accompany me to see Ingrid as it would help deal with Hannah’s uncertainty. She said she’d ring me back.

She did too, some ten or so minutes later. “Give me half an hour.” Forty minutes after that she arrived. It was getting quite warm, so I had on a very pleasant summer dress and low heeled sandals both of which I believe came from a designer with the initials CK. Hannah insisted she was coming as well as we’d be talking about her future.

I offered to drive and when Ms Whittington saw my Jaguar parked outside she accepted my offer. Hannah sat on the backseat with her smart-phone while I chatted with the social worker, deliberately avoiding the subject we were going to discuss. I’d checked with the ward that she wasn’t being seen by anyone else, she wasn’t, so we’d be calling by.

Within two minutes of being there she repeated what she’d said before. I was flabbergasted, Hannah didn’t believe her and what Ms Whittington believed was another matter. But she improvised an agreement that allowed Hannah to stay with us for three months subject to monthly checks to see she was happy with the arrangement. Happy? She was ecstatic. It was exactly what she’d wanted to do but could get no one to support her.

Ingrid signed it, so did I and so did Judith Whittington. Hannah wanted to sign it as well, so we let her even though her signature, being a minor, isn’t required. As we were due to leave, I suggested a coffee and a cake, the other two agreed and on the pretext of going to the loo sent them off ahead. I trotted back to Ingrid’s room.

“Whaddaya want now?”

“I want to know if we’re closer in character than either of us would admit.”

“Just go away,” was the response I received.

“I will if you answer me one little question.”

“What?”

“Did you just agree to give up Hannah because you think I can give her a better life with more opportunity?”

She roared with laughter before she began to cough. “Nah, life will be easier than it was with her hanging on to my skirts. She gets rather clingy at times.”

“I still think that’s what your strategy is all about.”

“Don’t do noble thoughts, I leave them to people like you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Tough.”

“I don’t believe you’re prepared to just let Hannah slip out of your hands without some resistance.”

“See, you’re not so clever after all.” At that instant I might have well chosen every known and unknown method.

“I’m not here to demonstrate my cleverness,” I said back smartly.

“No, you’re here to add my Hannah to your collection.”

“Do you really think that?”

“Why else would you have turned up with dumpy?”

“Dumpy? Oh, Ms Whittington?”

“Yeah, Dick, where’s the bleeding cat?”

“I told you before, my primary concern is Hannah’s wellbeing.”

“Sure—look, I might be a whore but I’m an honest one.”

“Implying I’m not?”

“If the cap fits...”

“If my theory is wrong, prove it. Sort yourself out and have Hannah back with a mother she’s proud of.”

“Against your money and three months to corrupt her little mind?”

“I don’t operate like that.”

“Doncha? How many kids you given back then?”

“They all wanted to stay.”

“See what I mean? You’re like the Pied Piper, stealing other people’s kids.”

“I’m sorry you see it like that.”

“No you ain’t, you got the kid—now piss off and leave me in peace.” A nurse arrived and looking at my watch, I walked quickly up to the hospital cafeteria.

“Are you okay?” asked Ms Whittington.

“Yeah, sorry I dropped my pen and had to go back to the ward to get it.” I lie so easily these days it frightens me, though judging by the look both Hannah and Judith Whittington are giving me, they don’t believe me.

“So what did she have to say?”

“Who?” I asked blushing.

“Ingrid, who else would you go and see?”

“I wanted to make sure she was happy with the arrangement.”

“And was she?”

“So she said.”

“It’s only for three months—two of which will be the summer holiday.”

“Meaning you have maximum opportunity to influence Hannah.” Hannah had asked for a Kitkat and I gave her the money to go and buy it so didn’t hear the discussion.

“D’you think I’d actually do that?”

“If you thought it was in the interest of the child, yes. I’ve read the whole file, Lady Cameron, it’s how you operate. You give the children more comfortable lives and they naturally don’t wish to return to their original parents, if that was an option.”

“Some of them didn’t have that option, especially those with gender dysphoria.”

“I’m well aware of that, what about the others?”

“Meems’ parents are in unknown parts and could be dead for all I know, Livvie’s are dead and after what Jacquie’s did to her, she wouldn’t go back if you paid her.”

“Yes, that was an interesting case, the little boy being the illegitimate son of the senior policeman who investigated the accident. Jacquie was very badly served by all parties including her family—you did very well to expose that one.”

“The way she was treated in the juvenile offender’s unit was dreadful, someone should have gone to prison for it.”

“Sadly, it was too late and both of the men concerned are now dead.”

“Are they?”

“Yes, the priest died last year and the doctor died in May of this year.”

“How d’you know?”

“I wondered if we could prosecute them.”

“Oh,” my opinion of this woman was see-sawing all over the place. Goodness, she was as bad as I was in flitting about.