Part 9 (2/2)

I glanced over at the paramedic, who nodded. 'Fine to go,' he confirmed. 'And lots of fluids for the rest of the day. But we've made it clear haven't we, young lady? that next time she's sick she needs to let someone know. Because next time she might not be so lucky.'

I felt Sophia stiffen in my arms as he said this. She carefully withdrew from me, wiped her eyes and then looked directly at the paramedic. 'Yes, thank you for that, Andrew,' she said icily. 'But think I understand how my hormones work. Job done, boys. Bye-bye. See you soon.'

'Sophia!' I gasped, shocked by the venom in her voice. 'That was completely uncalled for! Those men came here to help you!'

The paramedics seemed relaxed, however. With 'seen it all before' expressions, they nodded a goodbye to me and left, leaving me stunned by how Sophia could be so rude to them.

Sophia herself simply flopped back into my arms. 'Please can we go home now?' she said in a small, pleading voice. 'I really do feel tired. Really awful.'

Tina gave me a look too a clear 'Oh my G.o.d, poor old you!' one as she duly led me out, armed with more paperwork. This was the ambulance report, to go in my file, and as I tucked it away, having put Sophia to bed, I mused. For a short-term placement, hers was positively bulging.

I spent much of that afternoon musing, in fact. While Sophia slept and I finished my housework, I thought again of her jaw-dropping discourtesy. Was this really just spoilt brat behaviour, was this manipulative, or something more? It seemed so unplanned, so random, so unexpected when it happened. And so often, straight afterwards she seemed genuinely unaware. Unaware, for sure, about quite how inappropriate it was, as was clear every time she apologised for what she'd done. Yes, she was sorry, but she never seemed to have any clear sense of just how wrong it was. I began to wonder if we weren't all too fixated on throwing our hands up in shock and horror to really hear what was happening with this strange and challenging young girl.

Was this a cry for help? And were none of us listening?

Chapter 13.

The next couple of weeks seemed to go by in a fog. Living with Sophia was like riding on an unfamiliar rollercoaster; we never knew when the next white-knuckle bit was going to happen. When she was in a sunny mood she was a joy to be around, now she'd settled in funny and giggly and sweet. But when she got into one of her dark moods she was really quite venomous, slamming doors my poor doors! shouting and swearing, and storming off, enraged, to her room. She could swear like a navvy, and she seemed to relish doing so when she was like that, sometimes at all of us, and sometimes at herself. There seemed no triggers to all this, and no warning signs either. The only time I had a clue that she was about to switch personas was if she failed to take her medication at the right time. At those times she would become flushed and unsteady and speak gibberish. And I was becoming adept at spotting the signs now, which was a relief. But her mood swings and violent temper weren't just about her condition. And now I knew so much more about how she'd come to be here, I knew it would take much more than a couple of pills to get her right.

But in the short term things were looking up. Mike had fitted locks to the bedroom doors, as he'd promised, and as he'd promised Kieron had come home. By mid-March he'd been home for a couple of weeks, and on this particular Sat.u.r.day had asked Sophia if she'd like to go bowling with him and Lauren. I think he was trying to rebuild his relations.h.i.+p with Sophia for my sake, which was a kind gesture, and made me so proud of him.

Sophia seemed genuinely thrilled to have been asked, too. 'So can I go, Casey?' she asked me.

'Of course you can,' I told her.

'And it'll be nice for you too,' she added, grinning at me impishly. 'Give you a chance to think what we're going to do for my birthday.'

'Hey,' admonished Kieron, 'one treat at a time, missy! When's your birthday anyway? Not soon is it?'

'Kieron!' she cried. 'You know exactly when my birthday is! It's written in giant letters all over the calendar!'

This was true. She had written it there, at my invitation, in big swirly shocking pink felt pen. And it was good to see that she was just as over-excited about her birthday as any other 12-year-old girl. 'He's just winding you up, love,' I said. 'Take no notice. And you're right. Better get my thinking cap on about that, hadn't I?'

I reached into my handbag for my purse so I could give her some money for the outing. And as I pulled it out she surprised me by coming up behind me and planting a kiss on my cheek. 'Thanks, Casey,' she said. 'You're the best.'

I smiled as I waved them off, pleased to see everyone happy, but as I shut the door I felt a wave of sadness wash over me. Because it was a veneer. As the experiences of the last few weeks had proven, days like this couldn't be the norm. Not with all the underlying problems Sophia had. You couldn't put band aids over such big psychological wounds. But days like this did at least show me how they could be, if only we could tap into the past properly and help her to put it right.

I went back into the kitchen and thought about cleaning it. Mike had been called in to work and wouldn't be back for hours yet. No, I thought, today I would resist the urge to don my Marigolds. I'd phone Riley and see if she was free instead. I did need to think about what to do for Sophia's birthday, and being a Sat.u.r.day, there was a good chance David would be around to look after Levi, so Riley could come into town with me for a couple of hours.

Even with all the traumas and horrors of the last few weeks, it was unlike me to have left planning for Sophia's birthday so late. I loved birthdays liked any kind of family celebration really, and anyone who had the good (or bad!) fortune to come into our circle could rely on their special day being Casey-fied. I particularly loved putting on kids' parties with all that cutting and sticking and paint and glitter, they were my forte and I had last year treated Justin to the party of his life a full-on Little Mermaid-themed pool party in the garden, complete with hired giant paddling pool and real sandy beach. If there were awards going for completely mad, ridiculously OTT parties, I would definitely be in for a shot at it.

'So what's the theme for this one?' Riley wanted to know, once we'd got ourselves settled in our favourite cafe and were tucking into French onion soup and Welsh rarebit. 'What sort of thing were you thinking? What sort of things is she into?'

'Hmm,' I said thoughtfully. 'You know, that's quite a hard one, as it happens.'

'Come on, think, Mum. There must be something.'

'Yeah, boys!' I said with feeling. 'But aside from that ...'

'So it's simple. We do a hunk party. Round up a bunch of Kieron's mates from college. Dress them up like Chippendales, have them all dance to that Tom Jones song ... Or then again, hmm. Maybe not.'

But joking aside, it was a poser to know what to do for her. With so much focus on the difficulties brought about by her physical illness and her emotional instability, there'd been precious time for just plain old getting to know this child, really. She'd asked for a mobile phone for her present, and her team had allowed it. Which was unusual. Kids in care aren't generally allowed them, as contact with birth families often needs to be closely monitored for their own wellbeing. Not the case for Sophia, sadly, which was probably why they'd agreed to it. She could hardly go and secretly call her mother, after all.

But then I remembered something. On the form she'd filled in for us she had put down that she really liked musicals. 'She's even been to London a few times,' I told Riley now. 'To see some of the big West End shows.'

'So that's it, then,' said Riley, beginning to warm to the task. 'Yep. I can see this, Mum. The bright lights, the costumes, the greasepaint, the soundtrack ... We can transform your downstairs to the Moulin Rouge theatre, or maybe the Phantom of the Opera one where's that? Or the slums of Victorian London, and do Oliver. I'll be Nancy, and Kieron can be Bill Sykes he'd be good at that ...'

'Wicked!' I said.

'Yes, I know. It will be.'

'No, Wicked. Wicked as in the musical called Wicked. That's her favourite one. She's been to see it. I remember her telling me. Her uncle and aunt took her when they were fostering her. Yes, that's right.'

Riley looked thoughtful. She frowned. 'Such a tragedy her family abandoned her, isn't it?'

'It really is,' I agreed. But I really didn't want to quash my happy mood. Chances were that it wouldn't last terribly long anyway, so I intended to enjoy it while it lasted. 'Let's not dwell on that now,' I said. 'Let's think positive.'

'You're absolutely right, Mum,' Riley said. 'Let's think party. Whatever happens we can't let her out of our clutches without a Watson-style bash to her name, can we?'

Before heading off to the party shop, however, I first had to drag her to the mobile-phone shop down the road so she could do what I couldn't talk sensibly to the man there about what to buy. To a cave-woman like me, at least, a phone was a phone was a phone, a thing you used to make calls and send messages. But apparently not; what we left with both looked good girly pink, encrusted with diamante and, more importantly, did all the other things a phone had to do, like take pictures, make videos and do 'apps'. It was all Greek to me (and it probably did do Greek translations) but Riley a.s.sured me that in this day and age it was a bargain, despite the price almost giving me a heart attack.

But if my bank card wasn't done for the day at least the next bit of spending was more my natural territory. I knew the party accessories shop like the back of my hand. As did Riley. Like mother, like daughter. 'So,' she said, 'Wicked. We need to think colours. Green, black and white, mainly. Yes, that's what we'll go with. Green, black and white balloons, green, black and white face paints ... then we're going to need witch stuff and wizard stuff ...'

'You make it sound like a Halloween party!'

'Mum, do you actually know what the musical's about?'

'It's about The Wizard of Oz, isn't it?'

'Well, not quite. It's about the witches. The good witch, the bad witch, and this very handsome wizard. And the wizard ends up falling for the bad witch, who really wasn't bad and ... Oh, I'll tell you the plot later. Just trust me, okay? The main thing's that she's green. It's the green theme that's key here. Come on, let's start getting stuff in our basket, shall we. I can't be too late because David will be suffering from nappy fatigue.'

And so it was that an hour later, and laden down with all our green stuff, we returned home, feeling very pleased with ourselves. We were just upstairs, stas.h.i.+ng all our purchases out of sight in my bedroom wardrobe, when we heard the sound of the others coming in.

'That's good timing!' I called down, as Riley and I started down the stairs. 'We've just got back ourselves, this very minute.'

I walked into the kitchen then, expecting a sea of smiles and a reply, but was met with an uncomfortable silence. 'Is everything okay?' I asked, looking from one to another. Kieron raised his eyebrows and nodded towards Sophia.

'Everything's fine,' she said. 'Look at his face! Honestly! He's just annoyed 'cos he got beaten by a girl.' She giggled then and reached across to pull his ear.

'Yeah, that's right, Sophia,' he said, batting her hand away. 'Course that's why I'm annoyed.' He reached for Lauren's hand and stomped off with her into the conservatory.

'Okaaay,' said Riley. 'So I think that's my cue to get off. David and Levi will be wondering where I've got to.'

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