Playing Nice

Although we report incidents to parents anonymously, on this occasion both parents I spoke to were able to identify the other child. I feel it is my duty to mention that soon after Theo left us, Zack Tigman’s mother was knocked off her bike by a motorist as she left the nursery, causing her unfortunately to break her leg. Initially she was unable to provide the police with any details, but she has told me recently that she believes the vehicle could have been a Volkswagen, the make of car driven by Mr. Riley.

63

PETE

“NO!” THEO SCREAMED. “NO no no no no!”

“It’s not a discussion, Theo,” I said firmly. “You chose cheesy toast, so you have to eat it all if you want a mini roll for pudding.”

“It’s burned.”

Admittedly, the corners of the toast were dark from being left under the grill a minute or so too long. “It’s not burned, it’s browned. And anyway, you have to eat it.”

“No no no no no no no.”

“In that case, no mini roll.”

In response, Theo slung his cheesy toast on the floor. I retrieved it and put it back on his plate. “There’s no point in doing that, because you still have to eat it, and now it won’t be as nice.” My phone rang. There was no caller ID, which meant it might be one of our lawyers. “Hello?”

“Hello Peter,” Lyn’s voice said, her Welsh accent emphasized by her slow, careful delivery. “Is it a convenient time? It’s just a quick question, really.”

“No! No! No!” Theo’s face was now puce with anger as he banged the table with his fists.

“Yes, I guess so,” I said, desperately looking around for somewhere quiet. There wasn’t anywhere, not unless I went upstairs, in which case an unsupervised Theo would almost certainly wreak havoc with his tea. “Let me just sort out Theo.”

“Of course.”

I picked up a mini roll, then hesitated. If I let Theo have it, he’d shut up for a minute or two, granted, but I’d also have committed the cardinal sin of giving in to a tantrum, and I couldn’t do that, not even for CAFCASS. I reached into the back of the cupboard for a foil-wrapped biscuit instead, consoling myself with the thought that since it wasn’t actually a mini roll, technically I’d carried out my threat. “Here, Theo. Eat some of the cheese on toast, then this.” His eyes lit up as he grabbed it. There was no chance he’d eat the toast first, of course, but at least he’d have to unwrap the biscuit, which would be good for his fine motor skills.

“Right,” I said into the phone. “Go ahead.”

“All it was, was to ask if you would be prepared to attend some parenting classes,” Lyn said. “Now, a lot of parents think they wouldn’t be useful, or that it’s like going back to school, which it isn’t at all. Because really, we could all learn something about being better parents, couldn’t we? I know I could. And it would help to counter anyone saying that parenting style is a particular issue here, do you see? I’m trying to be helpful, Peter. Because it would show that, if there were any behavioral issues, you were just as keen to address them as we are.”

For a moment I couldn’t speak. I actually felt dizzy with rage. The idea that my parenting was the issue here—when Miles’s idea of good parenting was probably teaching Theo how to cheat at rugby—was so ridiculous, so utterly twisted, it made me want to throw up.

I heard my voice say, “Well, if you think it could help Theo’s turn-taking, of course I’ll attend parenting classes.”

“Excellent, Peter.” Lyn sounded relieved. “I’ll put that in my letter, then.”

64

MADDIE

AND THEN WE WAIT.

For the next ten days the law takes its slow, winding course. We shouldn’t in any case expect too much from the first hearing, Anita’s warned us: The judge will simply read the recommendations in the safeguarding letter, encourage the parties to come to an agreement, and set a date for the final hearing, the only one that really matters.

Pete attends his first parenting class. He goes determined to show the instructors he’s got nothing to learn, but comes back saying it was actually quite useful.

“There are some children who basically don’t learn from punishment, so things like naughty step are wasted on them,” he reports. “They respond better to reward. But you have to start off by giving the reward instantly, so they learn you really mean it, before you work up to deferred rewards on a schedule.”

He starts by rewarding Theo for quite ordinary things. “Theo, you’re playing with that train really nicely. Here’s a chocolate button.” “Theo, I noticed you’ve been quiet for five minutes now. Have a raisin.” Initially, Theo is somewhat surprised by this sudden shower of treats, but he quickly gets the idea that doing certain things results in a reward. And if a nice drawing, done on paper instead of the wall, leads to a handful of chocolate buttons, what will eating his cheese on toast without complaint provide? Soon the downstairs walls are covered in star charts for bigger prizes—for eating his breakfast quickly, for getting ready for bed, for sleeping through. It seems to work, too. Personally I’m not sure if it’s really because of the charts, or if Theo is simply growing out of his terrible twos at last, but the transformation is certainly impressive.

A week before the hearing, CAFCASS’s safeguarding letter arrives. The long list of allegations in Miles’s application has effectively been ignored, as Anita predicted it would be. Instead, the letter points out that Pete is voluntarily attending parenting lessons and is cooperating fully with the adviser. It recommends no further action on CAFCASS’s part.

Anita’s positive. “It’s as good as you can hope for at this stage. They’re laying the foundation for the court to rule that Theo can stay with you.”

“And David?” I ask.

“David will be a tougher proposition. Have you heard from the social worker dealing with his case yet?”

We haven’t. That’s normal, Anita tells us.

The negligence claim against the hospital has also gone quiet, which suits us. With any luck, the custody cases will be done and dusted before we have to concentrate on the hospital one.

Sometimes, when Theo is being particularly trying, I find myself wondering if we’ve made a mistake fighting for David as well. Can we really cope with two different diets and two completely different levels of need—Theo with his always-on, supercharged brio, and David, with his quiet, vulnerable placidity? But then I think of David sitting in the Lamberts’ huge playroom, idly twirling rollers on a baby gym, and my heart overflows. Of course we’ll cope. That’s what families do when they have a disabled child. And Pete is the man to do it. When I see his infinite patience with Theo, never getting cross or losing his temper, I know we’ve made the right decision.

When Justin Watts calls Pete late on Friday, therefore, I’m not expecting anything particularly dramatic to have happened. But I can immediately tell by Pete’s startled expression, and the way his gaze turns toward me, that it has.

“What is it?” I ask, concerned. “Are they settling?”

He shakes his head. And then—something he never does—he raises his free hand and puts it over his ear to block me out. His face has gone white.

“What is it?” I say again a minute later, as he puts down the phone.

“NHS Resolution are saying it wasn’t the fault of any of the hospitals,” he says slowly.

“Well, that’s ridiculous. They can hardly deny that two families have ended up with the wrong children—”

“It isn’t that,” he interrupts. “They’re saying the babies must have been swapped deliberately. Mads, I think they’re trying to imply that it was us. That you and I somehow stole Theo from the Lamberts.”

65

Case no. 12675/PU78B65, Exhibit 33: NHS Resolution Preliminary Case Investigation Report, authored by Grace Matthews and Thomas Finlay, extract.

55. SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS

55.1 As the evidence from the Consultant Neonatologist and specialist Neonatal Transfer team confirms, there seems little possibility that the paper ID tags were accidentally transferred between the mobile neonatal incubators before admission. Both incubators were closed throughout the transport process, prior to their arrival on the NICU.

55.2 Similarly, the possibility of even one tag being transferred during admission seems remote, given the number of specific procedures that were being carried out on the infants and the correlatingly high number of professionals there to witness them. The chance of both tags simultaneously traveling in opposite directions, therefore, from one incubator to the other and vice versa, seems vanishingly small.

55.3 Even if the paper tags had indeed been transferred in this way, or gotten lost, both neonatal nurses would also have had to attach the security tags without following proper procedures, such as cross-checking with the BadgerNet record system, in order for the electronic tags to have ended up on the wrong babies.