Cathy Glass - Girl Alone

I hate you! Joss screamed at the top of her voice. I hate you. I hate your house and your effing family! I even hate your effing cat!

Our beloved cat, Toscha, jumped out of Josss way as she stormed from the living room, stomped upstairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

I took a deep breath and sat on the sofa as I waited for my pulse to settle. Joss, thirteen, had arrived as an emergency foster placement twelve days earlier; angry, volatile and upset, she wasnt getting any easier to deal with. I knew why she was so angry. So too did her family, teacher, social worker, previous foster carers and everyone else who had tried to help her and failed. Josss father had committed suicide four years previously, when Joss had been nine years old, and she and her mother had found his lifeless body. Hed hanged himself.

This was trauma enough for any child to cope with, but then, when Joss was twelve, her mother had tried to move on with her life and had remarried. Joss felt rejected and that her mother had betrayed her father, whom shed been very close to. Her refusal to accept her new stepfather as her younger brother had been able to had seen family arguments escalate and Josss behaviour sink to the point where she had to leave home and go to live with an aunt. The aunt had managed to cope with Josss unsafe and unpredictable behaviour for a month, but then Joss had gone into foster care. Two carers later, with Josss behaviour deteriorating further, shed come to live with me the day after Danny, whose story I told in Saving Danny, had left.

It was felt that, as a very experienced foster carer, Id be able to manage and hopefully improve Josss behaviour, but thered been little progress so far. And, while I felt sorry for her and appreciated why she was so upset and angry, allowing her to self-destruct wasnt going to help. Her present outburst was the result of my telling her that if she was going out shed have to be in by nine oclock, which I felt was late enough for a girl of thirteen to be travelling home on the bus alone. Id offered to collect her in my car from the friends house she was supposedly going to, so she could have stayed a bit later, but shed refused. Im not a kid, shed raged. So stop treating me like one!

It was Friday evening, and what should have been the start of a relaxing weekend had resulted in me being stressed (again), and my children Adrian (sixteen), Lucy (thirteen) and Paula (twelve) being forced to listen to another angry scene.

I gave Joss the usual ten minutes alone to calm down before I went upstairs. I wasnt surprised to find Paula and Lucy standing on the landing looking very worried. Josss anger impacted on the whole family.

Shall I go in and talk to her? Lucy asked. The same age as Joss and having come to me as a foster child (I was adopting her), Lucy could empathize closely with Joss, but I wasnt passing the responsibility to her.

Thanks, love, but Ill speak to her first, I said. Then you can have a chat with her later if you wish.

I dont like it when she shouts at you, Paula said sadly.

I dont either, I said, but I can handle it. Really. Dont worry. I threw them a reassuring smile, then gave a brief knock on Josss door and, slowly opening it, poked my head round. Can I come in? I asked.

Suit yourself, Joss said moodily.

I went in and drew the door to behind me. Joss was sitting on the edge of her bed with a tissue pressed to her face. She was a slight, petite child who looked younger than her thirteen years, and her usually sallow complexion was now red from anger and tears.

Can I come and sit next to you? I asked, approaching the bed.

Not bothered, she said.

I sat beside her, close but not quite touching. I didnt take her hand in mine or put my arm around her to comfort her. She shied away from physical contact.

Why do you always stop me from having fun? she grumbled. Its not fair.

Joss, I dont want to stop you from having fun, but I do need to keep you safe. I care about you, and while you are living with me Ill be looking after you like your mother.

She doesnt care! Joss blurted. Not for me, anyway. This was one of Josss grievances that her mother didnt care about her.

Im sure your mother does care, I said. Although she may not always say so. It was a conversation wed had before.

No, she doesnt, Joss blurted. She couldnt care a toss about me and Kevin, not now shes got him.

Kevin was Josss younger brother. Him was their stepfather, Eric.

I know it can be very difficult for children when a parent remarries, I said. The parent has to divide their time between their new partner and their children. I do understand how you feel.

No, you dont, Joss snapped. No one does.

I try my best to understand, I said. And if you could talk to me more, Im sure Id be able to understand better.

At least you have time to listen to me. Ill give you that. She never does.

I expect your mother is very busy. Working, as well as looking after her family.

Joss humphed. Busy with him, more like it!

I knew that with so much animosity towards her stepfather it would be a long time before Joss was able to return to live at home, if ever. However, we were getting off the subject.

Listen, love, I said, lightly touching her arm. The reason you were angry just now wasnt because of your mother or stepfather; it was because I was insisting on some rules. As you know, when you go out I expect you to come in at a reasonable time. The same rules apply to everyone here, including Adrian, Lucy and Paula.

Adrian stayed out later than nine last Saturday, she snapped. It was nearly eleven when he got back. I heard him come in.

Hes two years older than you, I said. And even then I made sure he had transport home. Lucy and Paula have to be in by nine unless its a special occasion, and they only go out at weekends sometimes.

But they dont want to go out as much as I do, Joss said, always ready with an answer.