Friday, 12 November 2010

CAFCASS - Putting you in harm's way

A rare letter from CAFCASS came today - their first since they allocated your caseworker.

Actually, calling it a 'letter' is excessively charitable. It was a compliments slip and a home made form, signed by a secretary.

On the compliments slip, they misspelled your Step-Mum's name.

On the form they'd made, they'd misspelled the word 'regular'.

Cut a long story short, even though you were taken from me without a moment's thought by Judge W in January and have been staying in your Step-Mum's home in London with me ever since, even though Step-Mum is obliged by a court order to take you back west every third week, they are now, after ten months, demanding to search her criminal record.

This is the lady who gave us a home when the courts just turfed me out and took you from me.

The lady who has incurred tens of thousands of pounds of debt to keep us in the game until now, and still seeing you.

The lady who has given up almost every single day of her annual leave entitlement this year to support the pair of us, even to the extent of acting as Daddy's MacKenzie friend at the start of the year, and going toe-to-toe with her barrister.

The lady who, like me, is at the point of physical collapse thanks to Mummy and her accomplices.

The lady who you wanted to talk to on Wednesday night, whose heart bleeds for you no less than mine.

They're saying that it was ok to put you in her care for the last year without any intervention, but that if she doesn't provide a copy of her blank criminal record now, she becomes a danger to you. That and the fact that they've met with Mummy behind my back, and not with me at all, tells me they are already doing their bit to try and force us even further apart than we are now.

I am your Dad. I have parental responsibility for you. They like me to have that because it means I have to pay the CSA even if I don't get to see you. What I say when you're with me, goes.

Nobody else but Dads like me get quangos telling them who they can and can't have round their children. The greatest irony is that Mummy farms you out at every opportunity - what's the betting that even though I have tapes of Mummy saying Little Grandad used to hit his wife and kids, they've not bothered to give him a hard time? We already know your nursery are free to break the law and cut me out of your life. Mummy has the power of veto over everything these days, I can do nothing about that.

Bu nobody is signing their form. They can get lost. We're not giving up on you.

To their eternal credit, other people aren't giving up on us, either - or the other thousands of children like you.

See you later, son. Teddy is still in your bed. We'll wake him together when you get here.

Love from Daddy

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