Marginalised

Teresa Devereux

Description

The second novel in the April Gardiner series. The world is not done with April yet... After a long struggle with infertility, April has become a mother but is struggling to adjust to the competing roles of motherhood, whilst trying to do her best for the families and children she works with. Meanwhile, after having her two little girls removed from her care, alcoholic mother Samantha Bushell's life takes a downward spiral. Worse still, challenges faced by other families and children, including fourteen-year-old, Isobel Thorne who, after bravely disclosing sexual abuse to her teacher, finds life becomes significantly worse rather than better. Can there ever be a solution for all this pain?Although the novel is fictional, the characters and their situations are representative of the many families who come into contact with social services. Teresa Devereux is an experienced social worker and the stories are based on her personal experiences. They depict the reality of social work and the dilemmas and complexities social workers face whilst trying to safeguard children. Whilst there is sadness there are happy endings for some and a spattering of humour throughout as social workers and other similar professionals strive to support and improve the lives of these children who live on the margins.

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 28 juillet 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781800466173
• Langue: English

Extrait

Copyright © 2021 Teresa Devereux

The moral right of the author has been asserted.


Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.


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ISBN 978 1800466 173

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.


Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

To my husband Grahame and daughter Louise for their patience and support. To my granddaughter Iola for her talented photography, which produced the book cover, and my other two grandchildren Amelie and Sabastian for posing so beautifully in the photograph. I would also like to say thank you to my good friend Amanda, a hardworking and dedicated social worker who played an important role in forming the final draft of ‘The Marginalised’.


Contents
1
Samantha
2
April
3
Isobel
4
Back to Work
5
April’s Dad
6
First Visit
7
Alison
8
Lack of Sleep
9
Kerry
10
Contact with Mum
11
Danny
12
Florian and Leo
13
Damian
14
On the Streets
15
Katy
16
The Party
17
Missing
18
Bow & Arrow
19
Neglect
20
Paula and Miles
21
Alarm Bells
22
Freddie
23
Behind Closed Doors
24
No Justice for Children
25
Demelza
26
Street Life
27
No Hope
28
Unconditional Love
29
Change of Heart
30
Isobel and Damian
31
Temptation
32
Secrets
33
Adoption
34
Alone Again
35
The Family Court
36
Family Visit
37
Contact on the Beach
38
New Home
39
Cautious Planning
40
Joy
41
Family Ties
42
Turmoil
43
Devastating Discovery
45
End of Hope
46
The Sun Comes Out
47
Sadness and Joy

About the Author


1
Samantha
After the final hearing, social worker April Gardiner watched from the first-floor window of the courtroom as the lone figure of Samantha Bushell walked away from the building. Hands in pockets and shoulders hunched against the cold, her thin nylon jacket thrashed about her in the wind.
It was the 21 st December and just after 5pm when she walked along the high street on her route back to her flat. The shop windows were ablaze with fairy lights of all shapes and colours. ‘Away in a Manger’ played softly from a stationary fire engine in the pedestrianised area, and one of the firemen held out a helmet in front of her as she walked by, asking for a donation for Save the Children. She walked blindly past. The festive jollity intensified her sense of loneliness.
She crossed Princess Park. There had been a market earlier, and a few stallholders were packing up the last of their goods and throwing them into the backs of their vans. The festive atmosphere behind her, Samantha crossed the road into Coronation Estate and then around the corner to Elder Road and her flat. She unlocked the communal front door, and as she walked in, the damp coldness of the building struck her like a slap in the face. With a very heavy heart, she continued up the stairs to the small landing and, with the door to her flat facing her, stood for a moment looking at it, reluctant to confront the emptiness inside.
This was the first time she had come home to her flat knowing that her girls would never return there. She hadn’t believed this could be possible. She’d always believed they would come back. It seemed impossible that children could be taken away from their mother and be adopted. She felt she had been a good mother. She had done her best and loved them to bits. Somewhere though, deep within, there was an awareness that she hadn’t been coping, and knowing that her girls now had a nice home to live in, and two parents who could give them everything they needed, made the burden of grief a bit easier to bear.
It was just as cold inside the flat as it had been in the corridor, and her whole body shivered as she walked inside. Keeping her jacket on, she went to the meter and fed it some coins. The old central heating boiler groaned into action. There wasn’t much food in the kitchen, but there was a stock of strong cider and, taking one of the bottles she sat down on the settee, intending to drink herself into oblivion. What did it matter now? She had lost everything. There was a screwed-up letter in the bin telling her that she had fourteen days to leave the flat. She had only read it once but the words were imprinted on her memory. If she didn’t leave within that time, she would be taken to court. The letter went on to say that, if it became necessary to apply to the court, she would be likely to incur court costs which could amount to over a thousand pounds. Samantha was seething about this. She’d known it was coming but it felt so unfair. She had got into rent arrears because her benefits hadn’t been paid. Somebody – she never had found out who – had reported to the Social that she had someone living with her, which had led to her benefits being stopped. Although it was true that Curtis had stayed with her sometimes, he hadn’t been living with her and he certainly hadn’t given her any money. By the time the benefits were reinstated she had accrued substantial rent arrears which she’d struggled to pay off. She’d barely had enough to get by from week to week, let alone extra for rent. That said, she had managed to pay off small bits here and there, but, to add insult to injury, after Tayla and Lily Grace were taken into foster care, her benefits stopped again, and the rent arrears escalated.
As if it wasn’t bad enough to lose her children, now she was going to lose her flat as well. She didn’t like April Gardiner but at least she had tried to help her keep the flat. The landlord had let her stay a bit longer since April’s intervention, but the shorthold tenancy had ended and she still hadn’t managed to catch up with the rent. The letter had arrived the day before the final hearing.
Sam hated the flat, and since Tayla and Lily Grace had been taken from her she hated it even more. She wanted to move, and had planned to ask the council to find her somewhere else. She had been helped before when Tayla was a baby. They had put her in a hostel for young mothers. She hadn’t liked it, but it was somewhere to live, somewhere to come back to.
With each bottle of cider, her optimism grew. Feeling confident that she would be helped, she stretched out on t