Watson - Runaway girl: a beautiful girl: trafficked for sex: is there nowhere to hide?

January

There is a grandparenting moment and its one of the best ones when, after a great deal of patience and fortitude, not to mention finger-crossing, you realise that you have finally got the baby off to sleep. And, though you love them (and with an intensity that can take your breath away), you are mighty glad that you can do the proverbial, and give them back to your offspring again.

It was into one such moment that my mobile exploded into life. My mobile that Id forgotten I still had on me.

Bloody hell, Case! hissed Mike as I scrabbled to try to silence it. Which was a case of frantically slapping both hands over the offending cardigan pocket to muffle it, and beating a hasty retreat, backwards, from Dee Dees bedroom.

And by some miracle, despite the shocking cacophony, she didnt stir. I missed the call, though, having clattered down the stairs before attempting to answer it, and gone back into the living room. And shut the door, for good measure.

I finally pulled the phone out, long after it had ceased warbling at me, while Mike relocated the baby monitor to the coffee table, glaring at it as if willing it to remain silent. It had been a long, fraught hour getting the baby off, to be fair.

Oh, I said, its John. As in Fulshaw. Wonder what he wants.

Mike flumped down on the sofa beside me. Well, if its Would you mind taking in another ten-month-old baby?, thatll be a no.

Oh, hush, I said. Go and make some coffee and stop moaning. Shes down now, and shell stay down. You know what shes like.

Im not surprised, said Mike, with feeling. What is it about flipping babies? Ive never really got that. When youre tired you go to sleep. Problem solved. Easy. Why do they have to make it so difficult?

I grinned at him, already pressing the return-call button on my mobile. As a veteran of two kids, four grandkids, and the various little ones wed fostered, he knew that was one of the great unanswered questions precisely because there would never be an answer to it. An overtired baby was a simple but complicated beast; she was overtired, but the reasons could be myriad, from colic, to teething, to being too hot, cold or stimulated it could even be the smell of my new perfume. But wed got there and could relax now well, after a fashion. And possibly not for long, given the call.

Hi there, John, I said moments later. So. To what do we owe the pleasure?

Oh, dear, he said. Im sorry to be calling you so late.

Its only eight, John. Its fine, I reassured him. Though, while doing so, I was already taking stock of why hed be calling. It was outside of office hours, so nothing routine or training-related, clearly. Which presumably meant a child he wanted us to take in.

Mike had picked up our coffee mugs but still lingered in the living room, obviously thinking the same thing.

Weve got a teenager on the way, John explained, and I mouthed the word to Mike, who nodded. Coming to us via a rather circuitous route. Not from round here well, to be precise, not from anywhere remotely round here. Shes a Polish girl, apparently not been long in the country, and all out of options.

Whats happened to her? I asked John as Mike headed to the kitchen.

Were not entirely clear yet. She doesnt speak a lot of English and the details are sketchy. Very sketchy. So, to be truthful, I have no idea what were dealing with yet.

John not having any idea what wed be dealing with was the case more often than not, so this, in itself, didnt faze me. Nor did what he did know that she was 14, and had turned up at a social services building earlier, very distraught, in Hull, some 100 miles away. And, with no room at the inn via the local out-of-hours service, the problem had eventually made its way to our fostering agency, and, as John was the supervising social worker and manager of our local office, to us.

Im expecting her within the hour, he explained. Are you and Mike able to take her in? More to the point, are you even around? I did try the house phone.

I explained that we were round at my son Kierons house, babysitting his and his partner Laurens baby daughter. But thats no big stress, I added. Theyve only gone to the cinema. Theyll be back in less than that, and then we can shoot home.

Id be enormously grateful, John said, and he sounded it. As I say, Ive no idea what the deal is. The girls apparently quite distressed, says she has nowhere to go, and has obviously been sleeping rough for a while. But Im told shes otherwise healthy and seemingly sane; says shes not been harmed in any way.

Dyou know any more than that? I asked him, already forming a mental picture.