Hart - The Girl in the Dark

The True Story of Runaway Child With a Secret.

A Devastating Discovery that Changes Everything.

Ill cut straight to the chase, our support social worker said. Wilf was sounding much more stressed than usual. I need to place a young girl and Im really hoping you can take her in. Its an emergency.

Wed said goodbye to a boy whod been staying with us on a short placement only a few hours earlier and I was enjoying the peace and quiet, though of course I didnt mind the interruption. This was our job, and if a child in difficulty needed a home then my husband Jonathan and I would always do our best to provide one.

You know well help if we can.

I heard Wilf exhale deeply. Thank you, Angela. I was really hoping youd say that. Thank you very much. Im very grateful. I thought he sounded quite desperate, which was unusual and made me worry about what we were letting ourselves in for. Wilf was in his fifties and was a very experienced social worker with nearly thirty years of service under his belt. Wed known him for quite a while now, but Id never heard him like this before.

Hold on, I havent agreed to anything yet! I said light-heartedly, attempting to dilute the tension I could detect down the phone line.

Yes, of course. I realise youll have to talk to Jonathan, but I dont mind admitting I really need you to take this girl in, as quickly as possible. I dont want to put you on the spot, but its a very urgent case and Im banking on you, to be honest.

I see. Whats the situation?

Wilf spoke rapidly, barely pausing for breath. He was an efficient, earnest man and he didnt mince his words. The girl is in a secure unit and if you dont take her shell have to stay there until another specialist carer becomes available. Shes twelve years old and locked up with young offenders, though she has no criminal record. She shouldnt be there, clearly, but we simply had nowhere else to place her at short notice.

I listened quietly, feeling very worried for the girl, wanting to get her out of the unit as quickly as possible and wondering exactly how shed ended up there.

Wilf went on to explain that the girl had run away from her foster carers home on numerous occasions. This time she had been picked up by the police after going missing for several days and the foster carer subsequently refused to have her back.

Shes spent two nights in the unit already, which is far from ideal. I hate to put you under pressure, Angela, but I cant stress enough how urgently we want to move the girl.

Wilf told me the name of the unit, which was well known in the region. Though it was designed for children aged twelve to eighteen I knew it wasnt meant to be an overspill facility for kids in care who had nowhere else to go. As far as I was aware, it was a detention centre for youngsters whod got in trouble with the law, or those who were at risk of committing crimes and needed to be kept off the streets, either for their own good or for the safety of others. There was a high security section attached to the unit where youths accused of committing serious crimes were detained while on bail or awaiting a court appearance. The crimes were the sort of shocking and violent offences that often made headline news, giving the centre notoriety. Id heard it called all kinds of names over the years, but typically it was described as a kids prison.

To my alarm, Wilf went on to explain that the girl was in this high security section, as there was no bed available in the main centre when she was taken in.

So there you have it, Angela. Shes locked up alongside young offenders, Im afraid. Im sure you can understand the urgency.

I thought to myself, Youre not wrong there. It was deeply shocking that an innocent twelve-year-old was being locked up alongside violent and dangerous youths.

It shouldnt be happening, Wilf went on. But Im afraid it just goes to show how strapped we are for foster carers, and especially specialist carers. Im sure wed get a lot of stick if this story got out, but in the circumstances the emergency team had no option but to take her to the unit. Its put everybody in a very difficult situation, most of all the girl herself.

Wilf reiterated that she had no criminal record, but added that she had a long history of absconding from care, going missing and being picked up by the police and returned to her foster carers. He explained that she came from a broken home and had been in care for over a year in total but didnt offer any further details at that stage.

Ill speak to Jonathan straight away. I want to help, Im sure he will feel the same way.

Thanks, Angela. It will only be a five-week placement, if that helps. Placements rarely run to an exact timetable, which is inevitable when youre dealing with unpredictable kids, their often fickle or unreliable families and a care system that is perpetually stretched to breaking point. However, Wilf said this would be a maximum stay of five weeks, though he didnt explain why. I didnt know how he could be so confident about the timeframe in the circumstances, but I took him at his word.

Jonathan was outside, putting antifreeze in the car. It was a bitterly cold evening and there had been warnings of frozen fog and ice on the roads. I pulled on a coat and hat and went out to see him.

How can we refuse? he said straight away, his breath forming white clouds in the freezing air as he looked up from under the bonnet of our old estate car.

I agree. Its only five weeks. Come what may, Im sure we can cope with that.

The truth was we didnt want to refuse, even though we both felt wary of dealing with a child who seemed so intent on running away. Wed never dealt with that scenario before, but we were prepared to do our best to help.

I phoned Wilf to tell him our decision. I cant thank you enough, he said. His relief was palpable. Ill be back in touch as soon as possible with more details. Wed like you to visit Melissa at the unit first. Hopefully I can fix this up for tomorrow. Then well take it from there. Thank you again. Youre a lifesaver. Please pass on my thanks to Jonathan too.

I realised Wilf hadnt told me the girls name until now, and when I hung up the phone I repeated it out loud. Melissa, I said, looking at Jonathan, who had just come in from the cold and was standing in the hallway, rubbing his hands together to warm up. Wilf just said the girls name is Melissa.

The penny dropped for both of us at the same moment.

Oh my God, its the girl Lynne was looking after, I exclaimed, putting my hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. I cant believe I didnt work that out earlier!

Jonathan sucked in a breath. What have we done? He widened his eyes but then immediately looked for something positive to say, no doubt having seen the look of horror on my face.

Come on, lets get the kettle on and draw up a battle plan! he joked. We wont be defeated by a twelve-year-old girl!

We sat in the kitchen drinking steaming-hot tea and thinking back to everything our friend Lynne had told us about Melissa. She had done the training course to be a specialist teenage foster carer at the same time as Jonathan and me, and wed got to know each other well. We now attended a regular support group with Lynne and other recently qualified specialist carers, where we were all encouraged to share our experiences in confidence with each other.

I cast my mind back to a session wed had a couple of weeks earlier, when Lynne told the group she was exhausted. I could still picture her, looking very stressed and tired out.