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Mum’s and a jumper at Dad’s. I never had a PE kit. They go on at me at school because I’m not in uniform.’ I wondered if this was one of the reasons Dawn was so against school – not wearing a uniform would get her into trouble with the staff and also single her out from her friends.
    ‘I think I’d better buy you another set,’ I said. ‘Hopefully your social worker can get the skirt and jumper when she speaks to your mum and dad. They’ll do as spares. And I’ll wash those clothes you’re wearing. You will have to wear your other pair of jeans and the jumper for school tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll come in and explain.’
    ‘Thanks, Cathy,’ Dawn said with a smile. ‘I get fed up with being told off. If it’s not me mum or dad going on at me, it’s the school.’
    I unzipped the wash bag, which contained a flannel, toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, which Dawn said had been given to her at the teenage unit. ‘When do you usually have your bath or shower?’ I asked. ‘In the morning or evening?’
    ‘I don’t mind,’ she said agreeably.
    ‘It’s probably best in the evening – about eight o’clock. John showers in the morning and I usually have my bath before I go to bed.’ I thought that as Dawn had had no routine she would appreciate having one established; it was also practical, as clearly all three of us had to use the bathroom.
    ‘That’s fine, Cathy,’ she said, and again smiled openly.
    I took a towel from the airing cupboard and showed Dawn through to the bathroom, where I made sure she had everything she needed. I went downstairs briefly, and then returned when I heard the bathroom door open. Dawn was ready and had changed into her pyjamas. It was nine o’clock, and I said I thought she should get straight off to sleep now, as she had to be up early for school. As with everything John or I had so far suggested, she readily agreed. I drew her bedroom curtains as she climbed into bed; then I said goodnight.
    ‘Will you give me a kiss?’ she asked, as she had done John.
    ‘Yes, of course, love.’
    She snuggled her head into the pillow and I leant over and kissed her cheek. ‘Did your mum and dad always kiss you goodnight?’
    ‘No, they were always too busy.’ Her face fell.
    ‘I’d better make up for it, then,’ I said, and leaning over, I gave her a second kiss on the cheek.
    She smiled. ‘Thanks, Cathy.’ Night.’
    ‘’Night, love. Sleep tight.’
    I came out and closed her bedroom door. Although Dawn was thirteen she was like a much younger child in many respects, and my heart went out to her.
       
    Downstairs, John and I sat together on the sofa with Adrian lying contentedly in the crook of his arm. ‘She seems a good kid,’ John said. ‘Very eager to please and fit in.’
    ‘Yes,’ I said thoughtfully, ‘she does – almost a bit too eager.’ John glanced sideways at me. ‘I mean Jack was good, but do you remember all those debates we had about coming in time and not hanging around the streets, and doing his homework, not to mention hygiene?’ John
    nodded. ‘Dawn has accepted everything we’ve said. Don’t you think she’s a bit too compliant? It seems odd, particularly when her social worker is clearly exasperated by her behaviour.’
    ‘It’s early days yet,’ John said. ‘But she is probably just grateful to have a home at last. It doesn’t sound like she’s had much of one before, from either parent.’
    ‘No, you’re probably right. I’ll have to buy her some clothes tomorrow, and a whole new school uniform. She’s got nothing with her, and doesn’t seem to have much at her parents’ flats either.’
    ‘Have you got enough money?’ John asked, mindful his salary wouldn’t go into our joint account for another week.
    ‘I’ll write cheques. By the time they clear, they’ll be covered.’ With only John’s wage and the expense of the house and the baby, we had to be careful with money. Now most social services make an