Cathy Glass - An Innocent Baby

Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the familys privacy.

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First published by HarperElement 2021

FIRST EDITION

Cathy Glass 2021

Cover design HarperCollinsPublishers 2021

Cover photograph Rekha Garton/Arcangel Images (posed by models)

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

Cathy Glass asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

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Source ISBN: 9780008466480

Ebook Edition September 2021 ISBN: 9780008466497

Version: 2021-11-17

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A big thank you to my family; my editors, Kelly and Holly; my literary agent, Andrew; my UK publisher HarperCollins; and my overseas publishers, who are now too numerous to list by name. Last, but definitely not least, a big thank you to my readers for your unfailing support and kind words. They are much appreciated.

To my darling mother.

Forever in our hearts.

As a foster carer I can usually find some sympathy for parents whose children have been taken into care, as so often theyve struggled with lifes challenges themselves. But I had no sympathy whatsoever for Hayleas father, who was evil beyond words. I struggled to write this book at times, but Hayleas story needed to be told to raise awareness and hopefully save others.

Advice on the care of babies often changes and all practices were correct at the time of writing.

Chapter One

After my mother died I took three months off from fostering. As well as grieving for her, there was a lot to do: informing friends and the wider family of her passing, arranging the funeral, and then clearing out and selling her home. That final visit to her house was heart-wrenching. It was where I had grown up and where she had lived for most of her married life. It contained so many memories. As I closed the front door for the last time I felt a devastating finality. My children felt it too. That part of our lives had now gone for good. No more visits to Nana and all that encompassed. Her welcoming hugs, kisses and smiles. Her endless patience, empathy, love and kindness. Her cups of tea and freshly baked cakes, and the way she would wave us off at the door as we left.

Mum had always welcomed the children I fostered as one of the family, and in twenty-five years of fostering that was a lot of children. Many of them were still in touch with me and when I told them of Nanas passing they were greatly saddened, but able to recount lots of happy memories of when theyd seen her at her house or mine. I was on the phone for hours listening to and sharing in their recollections, and their words really helped. Mum was treasured by them as she was by us and so many of my readers. Thank you for all your kind messages. Quite a few of those Id fostered came to Mums funeral. The church was packed.

Id arranged a buffet lunch for the wake, which gave us a chance to catch up and share in the joy of having known Mum. Many remembered my father too. It was wonderful to know that my parents lived on in the hearts of so many. My family and I consoled ourselves that after a long and happy life Mum was at rest with my father.

Towards the end of March I told Joy, my supervising social worker (SSW), that I felt ready to foster again. All carers in the UK have an SSW to monitor and support their fostering, and referrals for children needing a foster home are usually made through them. Id previously discussed with Joy the possibility of fostering a young child or baby. Adrian, my adult son, was moving out in June to marry his long-term girlfriend and fiance, Kirsty, and he was worried that without him I might be in danger if an angry teenager or older child kicked off. I thought he was worrying unnecessarily and pointed out that carers cant pick and choose, and an angry child needs a loving home just as any child does, which Adrian knew. But Id agreed to mention it to Joy.

The day after Id said I was able to foster again Joy phoned me with a referral.

Adrians wish has been granted, she began lightly. Theres a newborn in the city hospital, a little girl, two days old. Immediately I felt my eyes fill.

At present she is being cared for by the nurses, Joy continued. But shes ready to go now they are satisfied shes feeding. Shes coming straight into foster care. Can you take her?

Yes, I said, and my heart clenched. A little baby separated from her mother at birth. Why? I wondered. Would they ever see each other again?

She weighs six pounds, Joy continued. There is no sign of drug dependency.

Good. If the mother is an addict the baby is often born drug-dependent and needs a programme to wean them off it. They can be in agony as they suffer withdrawal.

Her mother has called the baby Darcy-May, but there wont be any contact.

None at all? I asked in dismay.

No. I understand the baby will go for adoption. Their social worker will have more details when she calls you. They really need to move the baby today, but I said you would need time to prepare as its some years since you fostered a baby.

Yes, thats right.

So, I can tell the social worker you will have Darcy-May tomorrow?

Yes. I expect theyll want me to collect her from the hospital I think thats what happened the last time I fostered a baby. Ill need to get the car seat down from the loft, I said, thinking aloud.

Yes, but you wont need the car seat tomorrow, Joy said. Darcy-May will be brought to you. The family are known to the police and they want to make sure shes not followed to your house. They must never find out where the baby is.

And that was the first inkling I had of the horror story that lay ahead.

Chapter Two

Having agreed to foster Darcy-May, I spent the rest of the day getting ready for her arrival. Straight after Joys phone call I dashed into town and bought bottles, nappies, formula, creams, wipes and so on, together with a new mattress for the cot. The cot, car seat, Moses basket and stroller were stored in the loft, but Id thrown out the mattress after the last baby Id fostered.

Just as Id finished shopping and was loading the bags into the car, Joy phoned again, and for one moment I thought she was going to tell me it was all off and that Darcy-May wouldnt be coming to me after all. Such last-minute changes in fostering can and do happen. However, she said shed spoken to Shari, the social worker responsible for Darcy-May and her mother (who I now learnt was called Haylea), and could confirm that Shari would bring the baby to me the following morning.