He nodded and added another brick to the tower, not asking anything about Joanne.
I glanced at Genny, wondering if she had any idea what to say next. She was a genius in dealing with people in sometimes tricky situations, including footballers who had fragile egos and their agents who were sometimes only interested in the pound signs rather than the welfare of who they represented.
She shrugged. “Tobes, you can leave that here and carry on with it next time you come.”
“Won’t it be in the way?” I frowned at her.
She shook her head. “It’ll be fine. And there may be a couple of days this week where Megs picks Toby up from here, so the tower will give him something to do. Check the schedule I sent you.”
I managed a smile. If I ever found Genny to not have a schedule, I’d worry. The girl lived by them.
“I will. Ready, Toby?”
My nephew looked up with a big smile and got to his feet. It was only when he was tired or not feeling well that he became argumentative, not wanting to do as he’d been asked. My sister didn’t know how lucky she was.
“How about pizza for dinner?” I offered him my hand, which he took.
“Pep’roni?”
“Absolutely.” I looked at Genny who was now sitting back behind her desk. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem. But I expect more details when I next see you.” She clicked something on her computer, frowning. Probably another mess to sort out.
I gave her my widest smile, which translated asgood luck with thatand then left the room with Toby.
It wasn’t the note posted through my door that bothered me most. It wasn’t calling the number on the note and speaking to Emily, the social worker who’d been landed with the case, because that was what Tobias now was. It wasn’t agreeing for her to come round in the morning before I left for training, and Toby was picked up by Megs or tucking Toby in bed with a story. None of that bothered me. I accepted that social workers needed to do their job, and that Toby needed a social worker to make sure he was looked after properly, given that his mum couldn’t be bothered to do it.
None of that upset me.
What did was that my sister’s phone was still switched off. I tried to message her on social media, only it looked like she’d blocked me. Yet I knew she was okay. She was alive, and by all accounts, she was having a good time, thanks to the screen shots Genny sent me. But there was nothing from her to check that her son was okay. Not one message asking how he was, if he missed her, or if people had looked after him.
She’d just assumed it would be sorted, which it had been, but not for her.
For him.
Emily arrived early, her little, old car pulling up outside my house, sounding like it wasn’t long off the scrapheap in the sky. She was about my age, her hair tied messily up on top of her head and she looked as if she’d just woken up.
“I’m sorry I’m early.” She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “My supervisor wants everyone in for a meeting at nine-thirty, so…” She shrugged using all of her arms. “I’m Emily, anyway.”
“Dee. Toby’s auntie. His mother’s my sister.”
She nodded and smiled again. “Is this where Tobias usually lives?”
I went through the background, how Joanne and Toby came to live with me and the apartment I’d arranged for them to move into. I made us both a mug of tea while I told her about Joanne’s social life and the times she’d left Toby with me and other people before. None of it made Emily flinch and I guessed she’d heard it all before, only probably worse.
“Are you happy to have Toby staying with you for now?” She stood up when I finished with the story.
I nodded. “My job means I can be around, and I have support for childcare when I’m training, or we have a match day.”
“What’s happening over the summer holidays?” She was making notes.
“He has a holiday club. It’s ten till four every day, but Megs Butler – she’s a registered childminder – will drop him off and pick him up if I’m not able to. I have a schedule for the next two weeks I can send you.” I fished around for my phone.
“That would be helpful.” She gave me her email address, Toby appearing downstairs, dressed and ready for holiday club. Today they were going to the park, and we’d spent ten minutes yesterday evening getting his backpack ready, which he now proceeded to empty and show Emily, which included a little talk about sunscreen.
Emily had clearly gone into social work because she liked kids, and far from scaring him in any way, chatted with him like she’d known him forever. After a gazillion questions from Toby, she asked him to find his favourite toys and bring them downstairs to show her. Nerves twinged in every part of my body.
I knew that Toby would be kept with me while they assessed the case. I knew there was no chance that they’d place him in foster care because there was a suitable person able to take care of him – me – while they looked at whether Joanne was fit to be his primary carer.
