‘Yes, in the living room.’

  ‘I need a glass of water first,’ he said.

  He disappeared into the kitchen while I returned to the living room. ‘It’s Stevie,’ I said.

  ‘Is he going to join us?’ the IRO asked.

  ‘I hope so. He’s just getting a drink.’

  ‘We’ll wait for him then,’ the IRO said.

  A few moments later Stevie came in, carrying a glass of water.

  ‘Welcome,’ the IRO said.

  Verity and I made room for Stevie on the sofa.

  ‘Hello, love,’ Peggy said.

  ‘Steven,’ Fred said stiffly by way of acknowledgement.

  Stevie threw them a small nod. I could see he was nervous.

  ‘I’m glad you were able to make it,’ the IRO said warmly. ‘We’ve heard from Cathy and Verity. We were just hearing from your grandparents, and then perhaps you’d like to speak next?’

  ‘Don’t mind,’ Stevie said with a shrug and took a sip of his water.

  The IRO threw him a reassuring smile and then looked at Peggy and Fred to continue. Clearly it was different now Stevie was present. They could no longer speak uninhibited. ‘Would you like to continue?’ the IRO prompted.

  They looked uncomfortable and then looked at Stevie. Peggy said, ‘Like I told you when you bunked school to see us, we’re your family and we’ll stand by you no matter what.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Stevie said quietly, and set his glass on the table.

  ‘Mr Jones, would you like to add anything to this review?’ the IRO asked.

  ‘No, my wife’s said it.’

  The IRO finished typing and looked at Stevie. ‘What would you like your review to know?’ I glanced at him sitting next to me and saw him flush. He took a couple of short breaths as he prepared to speak. I knew then that whatever he was about to say he’d thought long and hard about, probably for most of the day. I looked down and waited as the others did.

  ‘I know I’ve made a complete mess of my life,’ Stevie began, his voice trembling. ‘But I really didn’t mean to hurt Kiri and Liam in any way. They are my little brother and sister and I love them. I have protected them in the past. I can’t believe I allowed myself to take those photos and then send them to that man Joey. At the time I really didn’t know what else to do. Now I realise I should have told an adult. I thought that once I’d given Joey the photos he’d leave me alone. I didn’t know he was a paedophile and would share the pictures.’ He paused and swallowed hard. ‘The police don’t believe me, but it’s true, I promise you,’ he said, his voice catching. ‘I didn’t stop and think why Joey wanted the photos, I just did it so he’d leave me alone. The police kept asking me if I’d taken more pictures of Kiri and Liam or other children, but I haven’t, honestly. I’m not a pervert. I know I’ve upset those who love me and I’m truly sorry for letting everyone down. I’ve messed up and I know I’m not the grandson Nana and Grandpa wanted. Sorry.’ He stopped and the room fell silent. Even the IRO had stopped typing and was looking at Stevie.

  Stevie was concentrating on the floor, unable to meet our gaze. I touched his arm reassuringly. Peggy’s eyes had filled and both she and Fred were looking very serious. It was impossible to know what Fred was thinking or feeling. Suddenly Fred stood and came towards us. It was such an abrupt movement that for a second I wondered if he was going to hit Stevie. Then he said, ‘Can I sit beside him?’

  Verity and I both moved so that Fred could sit next to Stevie. He put his arm around Stevie’s shoulder and drew him close. ‘You’ve messed up big time, lad,’ he said, ‘but we still love you. That won’t change. No matter what the outcome, we will be here for you.’ Fred’s eyes glistened with tears and a lump rose to my throat. The others in the room were looking emotionally at Fred too. Usually so forthright, unyielding and set in his ways, he was now showing Stevie his unreserved affection and the support he needed. Stevie’s face crumpled and he began to cry.

  ‘Shall we take a short break?’ the IRO asked.

  ‘I think that would be a good idea,’ Verity agreed.

  We stood and, leaving Stevie with his grandparents, went into the kitchen-diner where I made some drinks. The IRO allowed ten minutes, during which time we made small talk, then he said, ‘I’ll see if they’re ready to continue.’ He went into the hall and knocked on the living-room door. ‘Are you ready to resume?’ he asked. They must have said yes for he called to us to return.

  Peggy and Fred were sitting on the sofa either side of Stevie, together but not touching, their expressions sombre. I asked them if they wanted a drink and Peggy said she’d like a glass of water. I refilled Stevie’s glass at the same time. Once resettled in the living room, the IRO asked Carolyn to give her report and as she talked – saying that Stevie was a very pleasant student who was a good average academically – I stole glances at Peggy, Stevie and Fred, now sitting opposite me. While they appeared united and had put their differences behind them to stand up for Stevie, I wondered how long it would last before Fred said something insensitive again. I doubted he had radically changed his views on Stevie’s gender-identity issues, which caused much of the friction between them and had been the main reason for Stevie coming into care in the first place.

  Sadly, it wasn’t long before my concerns were proved correct. Carolyn finished her report and then Edith said her bit about her role and me. The IRO set the date for the next review, thanked us all for coming and we stood. Peggy kissed Stevie goodbye, while Fred, having now recovered from his display of emotion, clapped Stevie on the shoulder and said, ‘Well, I guess some good has come out of all this then, lad.’

  Stevie looked at him questioningly. ‘What?’

  ‘You’ve come to your senses and stopped all that silly nonsense about wanting to be a girl.’

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ Stevie replied, affronted, and taking a step back.

  ‘Well, you’re wearing normal clothes and not prancing around in frillies with make-up and nail varnish on.’

  ‘That’s because I’ve come straight from school!’ Stevie said, mortified. Turning, he fled the room.

  Chapter Twenty

  A Dreadful Mistake

  I checked on Stevie after everyone had left his review. He was in his bedroom, more angry than upset. There wasn’t much I could say to him about Fred beyond what I’d already said – that he loved him, but he didn’t think before he spoke. Stevie knew his grandfather far better than I did. Having made sure Stevie was OK, I told him not to sit alone brooding and to come down when he was ready. He didn’t come down until I called everyone for dinner. He was very subdued at the table, didn’t contribute to the conversation and just shrugged when Lucy asked him how his review had gone.

  After dinner, as we were clearing away the dishes, I suggested to him again that he might like to invite a couple of his friends back from his class at the weekend, or go out with them – bowling, swimming, cinema or similar. Some months ago he’d mentioned he had two good friends in his class and I thought he needed to socialise, which would give him something to think about other than the police investigation. I did see the irony in what I was doing – trying to persuade Stevie to go out. When he’d first arrived, going out, staying out and ignoring his grandparents’ boundaries had been an issue, but now he wasn’t going out socially at all. He didn’t seem keen on my idea, but agreed to think about it, then spent the rest of the evening in his room. I kept a close eye on him, for while Stevie maintained he didn’t need to see a counsellor or doctor, I was worried his anxiety was building, which could spiral into a deep depression or worse. I think it is easy for teenagers to allow problems to escalate and dominate their thoughts so they can’t see a way forward. But there is always a way forward, hope and a solution, whatever the problem, which is why I wrote Happy Adults.

  It was no great surprise that once Peggy had put Kiri and Liam to bed that night, she telephoned me. I took the call in the living room where – not unusually – I was alone.

  ‘Fred just can’t keep his mouth shut,’ she began. ‘But he doesn’t mean any harm by what he says. He loves the kids.’

  I felt that excusing Fred like this was starting to wear a bit thin now and that he needed to channel some of that love he felt into accepting Stevie for who he was, and stop making snide remarks, or he’d never have a positive relationship with his grandson. I thought Fred would benefit from a self-awareness or emotional-intelligence workshop, but I didn’t say so.

  ‘You see, Cathy,’ Peggy continued, ‘Fred can get his head round supporting Stevie in the police investigation, but not the other stuff. His dad did something similar for Fred when he was a lad and got caught trying to hotwire a car him and his mates were going to steal. But a boy wanting to be a girl he can’t hack.’

  ‘I realise that, Peggy, but Fred might have to get his head round it if he wants to be part of Stevie’s life in the future. It can’t be so difficult if he loves him, can it? I know this is all new territory for you, as it was for me, but there’s a lot of information on the internet about gender identity with details of support groups. Did you ever try researching on a computer in the library?’

  ‘I went there but it was busy and the computers were being used, so I came out again.’ This, of course, was the problem with using the computers in the library, you sometimes had to wait for a turn.

  ‘It might be worth giving it another go,’ I suggested. ‘There is a lot of information online that could help. Sometimes just knowing that other families are going through similar difficulties can make you feel better.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said unenthusiastically. ‘I’ll take Fred with me, then I won’t feel such an ass not knowing what to do. He doesn’t mind asking daft questions. Anyway, the main reason I’m phoning is that I think it would be best if just I saw Stevie for now. Fred has offered to look after Liam and Kiri for an hour or so after school. I could come to your place or Stevie and I could go to a café as he can’t come here. What do you think?’

  ‘I think that’s a very good idea, Peggy. Do you want me to tell Stevie or will you?’

  ‘I’ll phone him,’ she said. As Stevie was in care voluntarily under a Section 20, Peggy was free to make these arrangements, although Verity would be informed.

  Peggy must have telephoned Stevie straight away, for a short while later, when I went upstairs to shower and start getting ready for bed, Stevie came out of his room to find me.

  ‘I’m going to meet Gran tomorrow after school,’ he said. ‘Just to let you know I’ll be back late.’

  ‘Thanks for telling me. Have a nice time.’ He seemed a bit brighter.

  ‘It should be OK without him there,’ he said, referring to Fred. Which was a pity but true. It might be that Fred never accepted Stevie for who he was and it would always be the case that he had to see his gran without Fred there. It crossed my mind that if Stevie was sent to a young offenders’ institution, would Peggy be able to make the journey alone to see him on a regular basis or would that be completely impractical? There aren’t many of these institutions and our nearest was about seventy miles away, and even then it would depend if they had a vacancy. I wasn’t sure how often I’d be able to visit him if I was fostering other children, and I forced myself to think of something else. I believed what Stevie had told me about the reasons he’d taken the indecent images of Kiri and Liam, but would the police?

  The following day Adrian asked me if I’d go shopping with him to help him choose two new suits for when he started work the next day. He often went shopping with Kirsty now and would have asked her, but she was working. I was a bit concerned that he’d left it rather late to decide he needed new work clothes, but thankfully, although Adrian is tall, he is of average build, so we didn’t have a problem. He quickly found two suits, then bought half a dozen shirts and ties and some grey socks. It occurred to me how easy it is for a guy to buy clothes for work compared to what the average woman needs: a selection of skirts, trousers, coordinating tops, dresses, jackets and so on. Perhaps gender-neutral clothes were the answer. I guessed we were heading that way compared to a generation ago, with girls now routinely wearing trousers at school and in the workplace.

  Stevie didn’t arrive home from seeing his gran until nearly seven o’clock – later than I’d expected. As I let him in the front door I asked him if he’d had a nice time.

  ‘We went to the police station to get my phone and laptop,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  He took his laptop from his school bag to show me. ‘I gave Gran my old phone, as I’ve got a new one.’

  ‘That was nice of you. Dinner’s ready. Does she know how to use it?’

  ‘No!’ He laughed. ‘We went to a coffee shop and I’ve been trying to teach her. I think she can phone now, but I’m not sure about texting or using the camera. She’s going to practise this evening and try to phone and text me.’

  I smiled. ‘That sounds good, but you know you mustn’t speak to Kiri or Liam even on her mobile?’ I’d said it before, but it was important.

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Stevie said amicably. ‘I’ll teach her a bit each time we meet and in between she can practise.’ I was pleased that seeing his gran had been such a positive experience.

  Dinner the next day was livelier than it had been recently. Adrian told us about his first day in his new job and Stevie entertained us with snippets from the mobile-phone lesson he’d given his grandmother. ‘She still doesn’t understand why it’s possible to use the phone outside the house,’ he said, and the others laughed loudly.

  ‘It’s all right for you lot,’ I said. ‘You’ve grown up with all this technology, but for some of us it has been a sharp learning curve.’

  ‘And you’re doing very well, Mum,’ Lucy said patronisingly.

  ‘Good, so this evening I’ll give you all a lesson on how to work the washing machine.’

  A light-hearted groan went up. I’d recently had to replace the washer-dryer and the new one had so many function programmes only I had mastered it. But I was pleased that we were all able to joke and laugh again; a feeling of normality had returned.

  Stevie met his grandmother after school for a second time that week and then again at the start of the following week. These meetings seemed to be having a positive effect on him. He was brighter when he returned, and once he’d eaten he set about doing his homework with little prompting from me. I didn’t ask what he and his gran talked about, it was really none of my business. I assumed they were continuing with their mobile-phone lessons, and they chatted generally, probably with Stevie telling her about school and life with us, and Peggy telling him about Kiri and Liam, which was fine as long as they didn’t have any contact. If I had asked more questions, would I have become suspicious? I wondered later. I doubted it. All I saw was the positive effect their meetings were having on Stevie. I wrote as much in my log notes. Stevie saw his gran again today after school. He arrived home at 7 p.m. and had clearly enjoyed his one-to-one time with her. How naïve those words seemed a few days later when I was asked to check my log notes for the details of the days and times they’d met.

  On Tuesday evening of the second week in May, when Stevie had seen his grandmother three times and had a fourth meeting arranged for after school the following day, the house phone rang. I answered it in the living room where I was alone. It was eight o’clock, and having eaten dinner together the rest of my family were doing their own thing in other parts of the house.

  ‘Hello?’ I said, but no one spoke, although the line was open. I thought it might be a nuisance call. Our landline number was ex-directory, but we still received nuisance calls from time to time.

  ‘Hello?’ I said again, and was about to hang up when I heard a small noise on the other end of the phone, like a stifled sob. ‘Is someone there?’

  Another sob, then, ‘It’s Peggy. Oh Cathy, I’ve been so stupid. I don’t know what to do.’ She could barely get her words out, she was so distraught.

  ‘Peggy, whatever is it? What’s the matter? Is Fred with you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she faltered. ‘He’s seeing to Kiri and Liam. I can’t deal with them right now.’

  ‘Why? Is someone hurt?’ I asked, my anxiety growing.

  ‘No,’ she sobbed. I waited until she was able to speak. ‘Cathy, you know I’ve been seeing Stevie after school?’ Her voice trembled.

  ‘Yes. You saw him last night. He really enjoys his time with you.’

  ‘I’ve been so stupid. I took Kiri and Liam with me to see Stevie.’

  I went cold and my heart began thumping loudly. ‘Oh Peggy, you didn’t.’

  ‘I know it was wrong, but they missed Stevie so much. They couldn’t understand why they weren’t allowed to see him. I didn’t think it would hurt. I was with them the whole time.’

  ‘Where was this? In the coffee shop?’

  ‘That’s where we met, then we went on to the park.’

  ‘Yesterday?’

  ‘Yes, and the time before. It was Stevie’s idea – not that I’m blaming him; I should have said no. Fred thought it would be OK, and they did have a nice time.’ Her voice broke. ‘But someone saw us all together.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘A colleague of Verity’s.’

  ‘Oh Peggy.’ Immediately I could see the implications.

  ‘Verity phoned this afternoon,’ Peggy continued between sobs. ‘The social services are having a meeting tomorrow morning that Fred and me aren’t allowed to attend. After that she and another social worker are coming to see us. They may take Kiri and Liam into care.’ She broke down and sobbed. My heart went out to her.

  Peggy had every right to be distressed, for there was a real chance that Kiri and Liam would now be taken into care. Stevie was being investigated for paedophile activity and Peggy (and Fred) had allowed contact between him – the abuser – and his victims, Kiri and Liam. Of course, that was on top of already failing to protect Kiri and Liam when they’d all lived together and Stevie had taken the indecent images of them. I knew Peggy and Fred wouldn’t see it that way, but the social services would. They had to. They had a duty of care to Kiri and Liam and needed to protect them.