The mention of cocoa was enough to have Heidi smiling again, burrowing into a cushion instead of kicking one this time.
I left her to it, heading upstairs where I could hear the sound of water draining. I tapped on the bathroom door, hearing footsteps pattering.
“How are you doing, Mia? Need any help?” I slowly pushed the door open. Mia was in her PJs, pulling a hairbrush through wet hair.
She looked worried, freezing when she saw me. “My hair was dirty.”
I nodded, moving the short distance towards her. “Then it’s good you washed it. Does it feel better now?”
She nodded.
“Want me to brush it?”
Another nod.
I took the brush from her and started to run it through her hair, combing out any lugs, drying it off more with another towel. She hadn’t tried to dry it, and I figured it was because she hadn’t wanted to use anything else.
“How about I use the hair dryer on it? No one wants to go to bed with wet hair.” I nudged her into Heidi’s room and took the pink hairdryer off the shelf in there, plugging it in and drying off her mop of light brown hair, that needed a good trim. I reminded myself that it wasn’t my job, it was Cara’s and not for the first time I felt angry about the woman who’d never really been my friend, no matter how much I’d tried.
I was as gentle as I could be, not sure if Mia was used to having her hair dried or someone brushing it. Heidi hated me doing anything with her hair, preferring to do it herself, but then she chose to be Miss Independent.
Mia didn’t seem to have any choice.
We were sitting on the sofa when the doorbell rang. I’d been waiting for the call, the social worker I’d spoken to a couple of hours ago giving me an approximate time for when she’d be round. She’d sounded tired, busy, so I’d been as co-operative as possible, answering questions that could’ve been insensitive.
“Romy McAllister?” The social worker asked. She was in her mid-fifties and had a kind face and a warm smile. “I’m Sue Samuels, duty social worker.”
“I’m Romy. Mia’s in the lounge with my daughter, Heidi.” I opened the door to let her in, noticing how she evaluated the house straight away.
“Nice house. Have you lived here long?”
“Since I was twenty-one. My husband bought it when he was eighteen. He died five years ago so me and Heidi live hereby ourselves now.” The explanation came easier now, especially when I knew there was no chance of Heidi overhearing.
“Any boyfriend or man friend who comes round?”
I knew why she was asking this. Another person here would be another person to check out.
“No. I believe Chris Hemsworth’s taken.”
Sue laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “You never know. We can hope. How’s Mia been since you found her?”
“Quiet. She’s looked like she wanted to cry a few times and she hasn’t said much. We’ve had tea at the Puffin Inn, so they’ve played together there and on the beach. She’s just had a bath and washed her hair, which I think’s made her feel better.” I went through the other events of the afternoon and evening, telling her what times I’d messaged Cara and how none of those messages had been read.
“Can I see Mia?” Sue asked, following me through to the hallway, the door to the lounge open a crack so she lowered her voice. “I’ve spoken to the head teacher at their school and the deputy there – I know the deputy but the head’s new, isn’t he? – and they’ve no concerns about Mia staying with you which is the better option than an emergency foster carer.”
“She’s fine to stay with me. Heidi has bunk beds in her room so there’s space enough.” I pushed open the door. The two girls were lounging on the sofa, watching cartoons, empty mugs of hot chocolate resting on the floor directly underneath a precariously hanging cushion.
I scooped them up before we had a catastrophe.
“Hi Mia and Heidi. I’m Sue and I’m a social worker. Do you know what a social worker is?”
My daughter shook her head, utterly oblivious because why wouldn’t she be, but Mia pushed herself into the corner, a frightened animal. She looked little and terrified, and I had nodoubt that she did know what a social worker was, or had at least been scared with the threat of one.
Sue sat down on the chair and looked comfy. “So Heidi, social workers try to help look after people and children. I’m here to make sure that Mia’s okay and that she’s happy to be here and she feels safe. I’m not going to take her anywhere tonight unless she wants to go somewhere else.” She gave the girls a reassuring smile. “I’ve heard about how nice a time you’ve had. Fish and chips for supper – I wish I’d had that for my tea! And ice cream – it sounds like you’ve had a great time.”
Heidi nodded, wriggling around. “We’re having cake at Amelie’s Cakery tomorrow and if it’s nice, we’ll play on the beach.”
“That sounds good. Are you looking forward to that too, Mia?” The social worker’s focus landed on Mia.
