Free The Saddest Girl in the World by Cathy Glass

barriers and join in. If nothing had changed by Monday morning, I would phone Jill and Edna and ask for help.
    I took Paula and Adrian to one side and tried to explain the position to them, because I couldn't just ignore Donna's persistent silence: it was like ignoring the elephant in the room. ‘Carry on as normal,’ I said. ‘Talk to Donna but don't expect her to reply or join in.’ They said they would try, but clearly it was difficult for them. Later Paula made a few brave attempts to include Donna in her play but with no success.
    That evening I ran a bath for Donna while she stood by me in silence, and then I left her to wash and change into her nightdress. I said goodnight and told her that the following day we would go out somewhere. I kissed her goodnight, said sleep tight, came out and pulled the door to. I consoled myself that while Donna wasn't engaging with me at any outward level at least she was cooperating and doing what I was asking. The day before I had been worried that she might stubbornly refuse to do anything, which would have been even more difficult, if not impossible to deal with.
    Sunday evening approached. We had spent the day at a small adventure park, where Donna had sat and watched Paula and Adrian enjoying themselves with all the other children but not joined in once. I knew I would have to phone Jill and Edna first thing in the morning. I would ask them how to handle the situation because clearly my strategies were not working. I began the bedtime routine, and I left Donna to change into her nightdress and have her wash and do her teeth while I went downstairs andwrote up my log notes. Paula was already asleep and Adrian was getting changed into his pyjamas in his bedroom.
    When I heard the bathroom door open and Donna return to her bedroom, I went upstairs to say goodnight. She was in bed with her arm around the teddy and had closed the bedroom curtains. I was half inclined to say a brisk goodnight and come out, for I was finding it difficult not to take her refusal to speak to me personally. I felt very frustrated and not a little hurt that she was making no attempt to communicate at all. But something stopped me from taking this line, and instead I went to her bed and knelt beside it.
    I stroked her forehead and she didn't pull away. ‘Donna, love,’ I said, ‘I know you are hurting but you must start talking to me. I can't help you if you don't.’ I paused and continued to stroke her head. I really didn't know what else to say. ‘I'm here to help you, and we all want to see you happy. Can you tell me what the matter is?’
    She shook her head.
    I hesitated, stopped stroking her head, and stood. ‘OK, love, you get off to sleep.’ I moved away, but as I went to the door I heard her voice, so faint I could have missed it.
    ‘Cath-ie,’ she said, pronouncing the two syllables separately. At last! I thought, and I could have jumped for joy.
    I immediately returned to the bed. ‘Yes, love? What is it?’
    ‘I'm sorry, Cath-ie,’ she said in a small voice.
    I knelt down again and stroked her forehead. ‘There is no need to be sorry, pet. All I want is for you to be happy. Will you try to talk to me tomorrow?’
    She nodded.
    ‘And to Paula and Adrian? They would like that.’
    She nodded again.
    ‘Is there anything you want to tell me now?’ She looked at me for the first time since arriving, her big brown eyes doleful and full of pain. She was an attractive girl, her light brown skin soft and flawless, but her pleasant features were dulled by her inner turmoil. ‘Yes?’ I encouraged.
    ‘It's my fault,’ she said quietly.
    ‘What is, sweet?’
    ‘It's my fault my brothers and me came into care.’
    ‘No, it's not, love,’ I said, gently but firmly. ‘Not at all. And being in care is not a punishment. It's to help your mum and give her a rest.’
    ‘Mum says it's my fault. She said I should have tried harder.’
    ‘Harder at what?’
    ‘Looking after the house, and