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haven’t done that yet.’
    ‘My dad and his girlfriend have a baby but they won’t let me play with her. I think dad’s girlfriend is jealous. She’s only six years older than me and she says I don’t know how to hold a baby. But they won’t show me how to hold a baby, so how am I supposed to know?’ I looked at Dawn as she continued cooing at Adrian, besotted with him. I knew what was coming next.
    ‘Can I hold Adrian, please?’ Dawn said. ‘I’ll be very careful. You can show me how to hold him. Please.’ She quickly manoeuvred herself to sit cross-legged on the floor, and cradled her arms ready to receive him. I slipped from the chair and, squatting down beside her, carefully placed Adrian in her arms. While she rocked him and then began kissing his forehead, I supported his head, aware that my precious son was in the arms of a thirteen-year-old who had just walked through the door and whom I knew virtually nothing about.
    ‘What’s your name?’ Dawn suddenly asked, glancing up at me.
    ‘Cathy. Didn’t Ruth tell you?’
    ‘No. She was too busy nagging me. John told me his name at the front door but I didn’t know yours.’ Even then, with my lack of fostering experience, I thought it was pretty bad of the social worker to leave a child with someone whose name she didn’t even know. And while I knew Dawn’s first name I realised that I didn’t know her surname, date of birth or any details, other than those Ruth had just told me. At least Jack’s social worker had written the basic details on a sheet of paper.
    ‘What’s your surname, Dawn?’ I asked.
    ‘Jennings.’
    I nodded. ‘And when’s your birthday?’
    ‘January the sixth.’
    ‘So you’re only just thirteen?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Dawn’s rocking of Adrian had increased, and I was becoming concerned that it was a little too boisterous – more like a child playing with a doll than the careful soothing required for a fragile little being. ‘Very gently,’ I said, still supporting Adrian’s head and placing my free hand on her arm. ‘Babies’ backs aren’t very strong at this age.’ Fortunately at that moment John rescued Adrian by coming into the lounge carrying a tray containing his dinner and three mugs of tea, giving me an excuse to retrieve Adrian from Dawn’s arms.
    ‘Help yourself to a mug,’ I said. ‘Do you want something to eat?’
    ‘Only a biscuit. I had dinner at the teenage unit.’
    John was about to go into the kitchen again to fetch the biscuits, but I said, ‘You have your dinner. Dawn and I can get the biscuits.’
    ‘Do you want me to carry Adrian?’ Dawn asked, immediately standing beside me and stretching out her arms ready to receive Adrian.
    ‘No thanks, love, I can manage. You can carry the biscuit tin.’ I led the way into the kitchen and pointed out the biscuit tin on the shelf. Dawn looked around the kitchen before taking down the tin. ‘You’ve got a nice place here. It looks new.’
    I smiled. ‘John and I have been doing up the house. We’ve more or less finished now. I’ll show you your room later. I hope you like it.’
    ‘I’m sure I will. That teenage unit was horrible. There were three of us crammed in one room, and the other two were up all night. I couldn’t sleep. And when I stay at Mum or Dad’s I don’t really have a room of my own. Their flats are too small.’
    ‘So where did you sleep and keep all your belongings?’ I asked surprised and again feeling sorry for Dawn.
    ‘On the sofa. I haven’t got much stuff. I’ve got a few clothes at both flats, and there’s some in my bag.’
    ‘All right, love. We’ll take your bag up to your room later and sort out your things.’
    Dawn and I returned to the lounge, where we chatted with John as he ate his dinner and Dawn ate most of the contents of the biscuit tin. I thought that in future I would make sure she ate proper meals, for I now wondered if she had had dinner at the teenage unit. She was slightly built and