The Child Bride Read Free

Can you arrange for her to see a doctor as soon as possible, please?’
    ‘Yes, of course. Will she want to see her own doctor, or shall I register her with mine?’
    ‘We’ll ask her. When we stopped off to get her clothes her mother had the suitcase ready in the hall. She wouldn’t let Zeena into the house and was angry, although again I couldn’t understand what she was saying to Zeena. Eventually she dumped the case on the pavement and slammed the door in our faces. Zeena pressed the bell a few times, but her mother wouldn’t open the door again. When we got in the car Zeena told me she had asked her mother if she could say goodbye to her younger brothers and sisters, but her mother had refused and called her a slut and a whore.’
    I flinched. ‘What a dreadful thing for a mother to say to her daughter.’
    ‘I know,’ Tara said, her brow furrowing. ‘And it raises concerns about the other children at home. I shall be checking on them.’
    ‘Will Zeena be going to school tomorrow?’ I thought to ask.
    ‘We’ll see how she feels and ask her in a moment.’ Tara glanced at her watch. ‘I think I’ve told you everything I know. Let’s go into the living room and talk to Zeena. Then I need to get back to the office and make some phone calls. At least Zeena has some clothes with her.’
    ‘Yes. That will help,’ I said. Often the children I looked after arrived in what they stood up in, which meant they had to make do from my supply of spares until I had the chance to go to the shops and buy them new clothes.
    Paula and Zeena were sitting on the sofa, still looking self-conscious, but at least talking a little.
    ‘Thanks, love,’ I said to Paula, who now stood.
    ‘Is it OK if I go to my room?’ she asked. ‘Or do you still need me?’
    ‘No, do as you like,’ I said. ‘Thanks for your help.’
    ‘Thank you for sitting with me,’ Zeena said politely.
    ‘You’re welcome,’ Paula said, smiling at Zeena. ‘Catch up with you later.’ She left the room.
    Tara returned to sit on the sofa and I took the easy chair.
    ‘I’ve explained to Cathy what happened at school this morning,’ Tara said to Zeena. ‘Also that you need to see a doctor.’
    Zeena gave a small nod and looked down.
    ‘Would you like to see your own family doctor?’ Tara now asked her.
    ‘No!’ Zeena said, sitting bolt upright and staring at Tara. ‘No. You mustn’t take me there. Please don’t make me see him. I won’t go.’
    ‘All right,’ Tara said, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. ‘I won’t force you to see him, of course not. You can see Cathy’s doctor. I just wanted to hear your views. You may have preferred to see the doctor you knew.’
    ‘No!’ Zeena cried again, shaking her head.
    ‘I’ll arrange for you to see my doctor then,’ I said quickly, for clearly this was causing Zeena a lot of distress. ‘There are two doctors in the practice I use, a man and a woman. They are both lovely people and good doctors.’
    Zeena looked at me. ‘Are they white?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes. But I can arrange for you to see an Asian doctor if you prefer. There is another practice not far from here.’
    ‘No!’ Zeena cried again. ‘I can’t see an Asian doctor.’
    ‘All right, love,’ I said. ‘Don’t upset yourself. But can I ask you why you want a white doctor? Tara told me you asked for a white foster carer. Is there a reason?’ I was starting to wonder if this was a form of racism, in which case I would find Zeena’s views wholly unacceptable.
    She was looking down and chewing her bottom lip as she struggled to find the right words. Tara was waiting for her reply too.
    ‘It’s difficult for you to understand,’ she began, glancing at me. ‘But the Asian network is huge. Families, friends and even distant cousins all know each other and they talk. They gossip and tell each other everything, even what they are not supposed to. There is little confidentiality in the Asian community. If I had an Asian