Chapter 9: Cora - The Foster Child

It’s hectic at school on Monday. I seem to be forever dealing with phone calls, visits from parents or paperwork.

I’m on the phone to one of our sponsors when six-year-old Tilly Taylor-Brown comes in. Her mum is picking her up just before lunch to take her to the dentist. I put my hand over the speaker part of the phone and point to one of the chairs lined up against the wall. ‘Sit down, Tilly. Your mum will be here soon.’

Tilly stands by the desk instead, tapping on it with her fingers as I continue talking. I’m trying to politely end the phone call but the other person keeps talking.

‘How long will my mum be?’

I put my hand on the receiver again. ‘Not long, Tilly. Please sit down.’ I’m surprised at her behaviour as she normally sits quietly and waits.

Tilly goes over to the chair and sits down, tapping her feet on the floor.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

‘Tilly, will you please stop that,’ I say sternly then try to continue with my phone call.

Tilly pulls a face and starts rocking backwards and forwards on the chair, banging it against the wall. Goodness, what’s the matter with the child today? Maybe she’s nervous about going to the dentist, that’s why she’s acting up.

I put my hand over the phone speaker. ‘For goodness’ sake, Tilly, will you please stop that!’

Tilly continues rocking backwards and forwards, a smug smirk on her face. I swear she’s doing this on purpose. I finish the phone call and go over to her.

‘Please stop doing that, Tilly. You’re making a lot of noise and you could fall off the chair.’

Just as the words are out of my mouth the chair loses its balance and Tilly falls onto the floor. She screams, holding her leg.

‘Are you hurt? Let me see.’ I bend down by her to check her leg but she screams even louder and pushes my hand away.

‘Leave me alone!’ she sobs.

Just as her mother walks in.

‘Tilly! Darling!’ Anita Taylor-Brown rushes over to Tilly, who is now sitting on the floor, clutching her ankle and crying that she can’t walk. I stand and move away a little to give Anita space.

She wraps her arms around Tilly to comfort her. ‘How did this happen?’ she demands, looking over her shoulder at me. ‘You’re supposed to be watching my daughter!’

‘I was on the phone. She was rocking backwards and forwards on the chair and fell off. I did warn her,’ I stammer.

‘You should have been watching her. She’s only six! And why was she crying and telling you to move away when I came in?’

‘I guess she didn’t want me to touch her leg…’

Mrs Stirling comes in to see what all the commotion is about. ‘I could hear you all in my office,’ she says. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Tilly has hurt herself because Mrs Hamilton couldn’t be bothered to keep an eye on her,’ Anita fumes as she helps Tilly up onto the chair so she can check her leg.

‘Is she okay?’ I step closer to check, worried that Tilly might have sprained her ankle or worse.

Tilly flinches away from me as if she’s terrified and clings onto her mother’s arm.

‘I don’t want you to come anywhere near my daughter. You’ve caused enough damage.’ Anita’s voice is dripping with ice. I step back, shaken.

‘I think you’d better go and wait in the staffroom while I sort this out, please, Mrs Hamilton,’ Mrs Stirling says sternly. I can see that she’s annoyed.

‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Taylor-Brown,’ I stammer. ‘It all happened so fast.’

‘It wouldn’t have happened at all if you’d been watching her, as you were supposed to do,’ she snaps.

I walk along the corridor to the staffroom, my mind in a whirl. I can’t believe this has happened. I was firm but I didn’t shout. It felt like Tilly was really trying to wind me up, which isn’t like her at all. Maybe I should have ended my phone call earlier and tried to stop her rocking backwards and forwards. She might be injured.

I sit down in the chair, my mind going over it all. When her mum came in Tilly was acting as if I’d hurt her but I hadn’t touched her. Why did she do that? I’m torn between confusion over what happened and worry that Tilly has broken her ankle. She did seem in a lot of pain.

Mrs Stirling joins me half an hour later and I can see that she is furious. ‘Is Tilly okay?’ I stammer, getting up.

‘We can only hope so. Mrs Taylor-Brown has taken her to the hospital for a check-up. You should have kept a closer eye on her, Mrs Hamilton. This could have serious repercussions for the school.’

‘I’m sorry but she was really acting up and wouldn’t listen to me,’ I try to explain.

‘That’s not at all like Tilly but if that was the case then you should have told me. I was in the next office. I just hope that Tilly hasn’t broken her ankle.’

If that was the case? Doesn’t she believe me?

‘You’d better return to work now, Mrs Hamilton. I’ll let you know when I hear how Tilly is. And please, if you need help dealing with the children call me!’

‘I’m sorry. I will.’

I go back to the office but Tilly is on my mind all afternoon and I’m relieved when Mrs Stirling comes in to tell me that Tilly is back home from the hospital. ‘Fortunately, it’s only a mild sprain but she will be off school for a couple of days,’ she says curtly. It’s obvious that she’s still mad at me.

I walk through the playground, which is now empty as the children have all gone home. As I step outside the school gate I see a couple of mums huddled together, talking. One of them glances over then turns away again. They’re talking about me. I’m sure they are. Word’s got around fast, probably via the parents’ WhatsApp group. I bet that by tomorrow the whole village will be talking about me.

I walk through the gates and turn left to go home, the incident still going over and over in my mind. As I walk past a row of chocolate box cottages I hear a shout behind me.

‘Cora! Wait up!’

I stop at the sound of Gabby’s voice. Much as I don’t feel like talking to anyone, I turn around. She runs up to me.

‘Are you all right? I heard about… the thing with Tilly.’

The thing with Tilly. I guess everyone is talking about it.

‘I feel terrible that she’s hurt, Gabby, but she was banging her seat against the wall and I’d asked her to stop, several times,’ I explain. ‘She was really acting up.’ It was almost as if Tilly was taking a delight in being awkward.

Gabby puts her arm around my shoulder and pulls me into a brief but soothing hug. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. At least it was only a sprain.’

It was kind of her to come after me and reassure me. Gabby has gone out her way to make me feel welcome in the village.

‘Thanks.’ I sniff back the tears, not wanting to break down over this but the incident has really upset me.

‘It’s not like Tilly to play up like that though,’ Gabby says.

‘I know. I thought I was handling it, then she rocked back too far and the chair gave way.’ Tears spring to my eyes and I furiously blink them back.

‘Look, why don’t you come in for a cuppa?’

Gabby lives in one of the cottages not far from us and works at the local pharmacy until three every day, then she picks up her grandchildren – six-year-old Tom and eight-year-old Daisy – from school while her daughter, Rea, works. She has them both with her now, they’re trailing behind her chatting away to each other. I’m tempted, I could do with the support, but she has the grandkids to take care of and I don’t want to be in the way.

‘Thanks, but you’ve got your hands full.’

‘I’ll stick a film on for them and give them some milkshake and biscuits,’ she says. ‘Come on, it will do you good to take your mind off things.’

I can’t say I’m relishing the idea of going back to an empty house, and it will be a couple of hours before Elliot is home, so I agree. ‘Thanks, I’d like that.’

A little later we’re in Gabby’s kitchen, the heat from the old Rayburn warming it up, sitting around the table sipping coffee. The kitchen is joined by an archway to the living room which means we can keep an eye on the kids, now tucked up on the sofa, a multi-coloured patchwork blanket over their legs, sipping banana milkshake and scoffing chocolate finger biscuits.

‘Try not to let it get to you, Tilly’s parents are a bit overprotective,’ Gabby tells me. ‘It will all blow over.’

I hope she’s right but the whole incident has troubled me. I feel bad that Tilly’s hurt her ankle. It’s the last thing I wanted. I’m puzzled too. Tilly has always been well-behaved on the other occasions she’s been in the office. Why did she play up so much today?