Cathy Glass - I Miss Mummy: The true story of a frightened young girl who is desperate to go home

M um has snatched her! The police are looking for them now. Goodness knows where they could have gone! Theyre not at home.

I could hear the anxiety and panic in the social workers voice on the other end of the phone, and I appreciated why. From the little I knew of the childs mother, I knew she was very unstable, with ongoing mental health problems, compounded by drug addiction. I also knew she was fiercely opposed to having her daughter taken into care and had been fighting the social services for three months to stop it. But while no one wants to see a child forcibly removed from home, sometimes there is no alternative if the child is to be kept from harm.

When did this happen? I asked, equally concerned.

Two hours ago. They cant have got far. The police have circulated a description of them, and the ports and airports have been alerted. No one could have foreseen this happening otherwise wed have taken Alice sooner.

Alice was the little four-year-old Id been expecting all afternoon. Id been told the day before that the social services were going to court in the morning to ask the judge to grant an ICO (Interim Care Order) so that Alice could be brought into foster care. I knew from the referral (the print-out that gives the childs basic details) that both her parents were drug users, and because neither of them could look after Alice shed been staying with her maternal grandparents. I also remembered reading that Alice attended nursery from 9.00 a.m. to 3.15 p.m. every day.

Was Alice snatched from her nursery? I asked, puzzled, aware of the high security that now surrounds schools.

There was a slight hesitation. No. The head teacher phoned the social services first thing this morning to say Alice wasnt in nursery. When we went to the grandparents home after court this morning, to collect Alice, she wasnt there.

Now, I dont think Ive got incredible insight but if Id been a social worker I think I might have heard alarm bells ringing if the child I was about to bring into care was suddenly absent from nursery on the morning of the court case.

We think the grandparents may have colluded in their granddaughters abduction, the social worker added. Theyre being interviewed by the police now, and Im going to see them soon. Ill phone you again later.

All right. Thanks for letting me know. I do hope you find Alice soon.

So do I, the social worker said. And that shes found safe.

I replaced the receiver and returned to the kitchen, where I had been preparing dinner. It was 5.30 p.m. and Id been expecting Alice at 1.00. The apprehension and nervousness which Id been feeling all afternoon, and indeed which I always felt when waiting for a new child to arrive, now developed into full anxiety. Although Id never met Alice, and had only the briefest of details, I knew enough to be very worried. Her mother, mentally unstable and possibly under the influence of drugs, had snatched her daughter in a desperate bid to keep her, and was now on the run. Who knew what was going through that mothers mind or what she might do in desperation? News headlines flashed across my anxious thoughts: Mum leaps off bridge with daughter, Mum and daughter found dead. My morbid speculations were far fetched, but such things do happen, particularly when a parent is desperate or under the influence of drugs.

Ten minutes later the phone rang and I snatched it up, hoping it was news that Alice had been found safe and well. But it was Jill, my link worker from the agency I fostered for. In her voice I could hear the anxiety that Id heard in the social workers, and which I now felt.

Did the social worker phone you? Jill asked. I told her to contact you directly as soon as she heard anything. Ive been in a meeting all afternoon.

She phoned a short while ago, but they havent found Alice yet, although the police are out looking.

Poor child, Jill said with a heartfelt sigh. Poor mum.

I know. But her mother must realize she cant get away with it. Theyll be found eventually, and snatching her daughter is hardly going to count in her favour.

Mum wont have thought it through, Jill said. With her level of problems shell have acted on impulse and wont be thinking rationally. Which did nothing to ease my fear for mothers and daughters safety. Martha, the social worker, asked me if it was all right if they bring Alice straight to you when shes found, assuming she doesnt need hospital treatment, even if its out of office hours. I said I thought it would be.

Yes, of course, bring her straight to me, I confirmed; then, unable to resist a dig: I dont really work to office hours, Jill.

No, I know, but you know what I mean.

Yes. Hopefully the police will find her soon.

I hope so, Jill said. The poor child will be upset enough already at having to come into care without all this.

Deep in thought, I returned to the kitchen and the dinner I was preparing, which was now running late.

Adrian appeared, his stomach growling. Whens dinner ready, Mum?

At fourteen, my son was continuously hungry, and growing upwards at an quite a rate. He was already four inches taller than me, and he was going to be six foot, like his father who unfortunately no longer lived with us.

About half an hour till dinner, I said. Have an apple if youre hungry.

He nodded, and took an apple and banana from the fruit bowl, and a packet of crisps from the cupboard.

I hope thats not going to spoil your appetite, I called after him, envious. I couldnt have eaten all that and dinner without putting on weight. There was no answer, but I knew the snack wouldnt spoil his appetite. Adrian never left his food, unlike Lucy, my twelve-year-old foster daughter who picked at her food.

Presently Paula, my ten-year-old daughter, came into the kitchen and began foraging for food.

No, leave the biscuits, I said. Dinner will only be fifteen minutes.

Adrians got crisps, she said accusingly.

I know, and you can have a packet after dinner, if youre still hungry. Although fruit would be better.

She pulled a face but left the biscuit tin untouched in the cupboard. Isnt that little girl coming? she asked, suddenly remembering that Id said Alice would be with us for dinner.

Hopefully later, I said. Shes been delayed.

Paula looked at me questioningly and, while I didnt want to burden her with my anxiety about Alices safety, I knew I had to give her some explanation. Alice is with her mother, I said, and the social worker isnt sure where they are.

Paula pulled another face, unimpressed. How can they be lost?

Theyre not lost, just temporarily misplaced, I said lightly, and changed the subject. Paula can be a real worrier when it comes to little children, even worse than me. Could you pop up to Lucys room and tell her dinner is ready? If she says shes not hungry, tell her Id like her to come down and join us anyway. Thanks, love.

Lucy had been with us for nearly a year and, having lived with countless aunts and cousins and never had a proper family of her own, shed settled into our family remarkably quickly, welcoming the stability and routine. However, while I was very pleased with her progress, both at home and school, my biggest concern remained with her eating. She was an attractive girl, her long black hair and dark eyes coming from her father, who was Thai, but she was slim to the point of thin. At 5 feet 4 inches, she weighed only six and half stone and whereas when shed first arrived Id assumed she would put on weight once shed settled into our family, she hadnt.

Id mentioned my concern to Jill and also to Lucys social worker, who in turn had taken advice from the looked-after childrens nurse who is employed by the council to advise on the health of children in care. On her advice I was now monitoring (as far as I could) what Lucy ate, and also her weight, keeping my supervision very low key so it didnt become an issue. There was no evidence that Lucy was making herself sick after eating, or pretending to eat and then throwing the food away, so we were optimistic that she wasnt suffering from an acute eating disorder such as anorexia or bulimia. But over the last four months since Id started monitoring Lucy she hadnt put on any weight but had grown in height, which in real terms meant shed lost weight. According to the height/weight chart the nurse had used, Lucy should have weighed eight stone, so she was one and a half stone (twenty-one pounds) underweight, which was obviously very worrying.