Cut by Cathy Glass

friend and the two of them were playing with matches and caused a fire. Dawn now understands how dangerous it is to play with matches and has learned her lesson.’
    I noticed that Barbara and Dawn both watched Ruth intently as she spoke, as though they were waiting to see exactly what she said – or admitted to, maybe? Was there more? Were details being omitted that only they were party to? I wasn’t sure, but I had the feeling there might be. How or what to ask I’d no idea.
    ‘So, let’s draw up the contract of good behaviour,’ Ruth said, changing the subject. ‘It’s getting late and I’m sure we would all rather be at home than in this meeting.’ I glanced at Adrian, who had now fallen asleep on John’s lap, as Ruth delved into her bag and took out a journalistic writing pad and a pen. John and I were still quiet, shocked and coming to terms with what we had learned.
    Dawn, on the other hand, now suddenly found a new enthusiasm. Finally taking her feet off the table and unfolding her arms, she leant forward. ‘I’d like to go out on Friday and Saturday evenings, please,’ she said, and the three of them looked at John and me.
    We were silent for a moment. Then John slowly said, ‘Yes. But you are only thirteen. Where would you be going?’
    Dawn shrugged.
    ‘You can always bring friends home for the evening,’ I suggested.
    ‘She’d rather be out,’ Barbara said. Ruth nodded.
    ‘Out where?’ John asked again.
    ‘Just out,’ Dawn said.
    ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to be hanging around the streets,’ I said.
    ‘You can’t curtail all Dawn’s movements,’ Ruth said. ‘She’s used to leading her own life.’
    I felt there were some peculiar group dynamics going on in the room in which John and I weren’t included. Clearly there had been a previous conversation between Dawn, Ruth and Barbara; and Dawn’s mother and social worker seemed to be in quiet collusion. We were all supposed to be working together for the good of Dawn, yet Ruth now seemed to be suggesting we perpetuate some of Dawn’s previous unsafe behaviour – the very behaviour that had brought her into care.
    ‘We are not suggesting we curtail all Dawn’s movements,’ John said decisively. ‘But I wouldn’t have a daughter of mine out on the streets. At a friend’s house, yes, or going to the cinema – we could drop Dawn off and pick her up.’ I nodded.
    Ruth sat forward a little, and poising her pen over her pad began to write. ‘Let’s say that Dawn can go out on Friday and Saturday evenings, assuming she has been going to school, but she has to be in by nine-thirty.’ Clearly this decision was a fait accompli, and nothing John and I could have said would have made any difference.
    ‘Can we make it ten o’clock?’ Dawn asked.
    ‘No,’ Ruth said. ‘Nine-thirty is late enough.’ Dawn pulled a face. John and I glanced at each other.
    ‘I think nine-thirty is too late,’ John said.
    ‘’We’ll try it and see how it goes,’ Ruth said, dismissing any discussion. ‘Now, contact with mum,’ Ruth continued. ‘Obviously Dawn wants to see her mother regularly. And the best evening for Barbara is Sunday.’
    ‘Wouldn’t during the day be more convenient?’ I queried. I remembered that Jack had gone to his father’s for Sunday lunch and stayed the afternoon, which had worked very well.
    ‘I spend time with my partner, Mike, during the day on Sunday,’ Barbara said. ‘Dawn can come to me at six.’
    My suggestions again dismissed, my sympathy flared for Dawn, who had just heard her mother effectively say that she would rather spend time with her partner than her.
    ‘Dawn has caused problems in the past between Mike and me,’ Barbara added. ‘Mike doesn’t want to see her. He’ll be gone by the time she arrives.’
    My initial surge of empathy for Dawn was heightened, but I could hardly tell Barbara that I thought her loyalties were misplaced. Dawn seemed unmoved by her mother’s rejection and