The social worker's visit

I hadn't tidied the flat so I apologised for it when she walked in.

"How are you?" she asked.
"Tired," I replied. " I cycled to Bethal Green and back and soon I've got to cycle him to swimming." Didn't want to mention the recent suicide with my son in ear shot.

It's only today I got really, really angry about her visit.

She asked my son how he was. "Fine," he replied.
"Did you have a nice day at school?"
"Yes."
"Do you have lots of friends there?"
"Yes."
"Do you have a best friend?"
"K"
"What's your teacher like?"
"Before I had her I thought she was bossy but after she became my teacher she's not, she's really funny and really nice."
"That's good. What's your favourite subject?"
"Playtime. At playtime you get to do what you want but I like art too and science."
"So you like your school then?"
"Yes."

"Do you mind," she says turning to me, "if he goes into another room so we can have a chat?"
"Why?" interjects my son.
"I need to have a little chat with your mummy and sometimes it's better if me and your mummy have a little chat while you're not there."
He tells me he's hungry, I make him toast, then I tell him to go and play in our room. "The sooner you do that, the sooner we can go out," I say instead of what I really meant which was of course: the sooner you do that, the sooner we get rid of her. Tired, so tired. He goes into the bedroom.

She asks about the housing and when it becomes clear to her that the property owner wants her property back she says:

"Oh well you'll have to move. You'll have to start preparing your son, telling him he'll be leaving school, have to say goodbye to his friends, this community."

I flew off the handle in the demonic way I really like: calmly.

"I want him to stay at that school. I have campaigned on behalf of my child for months and months and months saying so."

"Yes, but if you don't know where you're going, you have to be prepared for any eventuality."

"I don't want to move him from that school. It's his third parent."

"I realise that moving house is very stressful," she says.

"No, you don't," I reply. "Have you ever been evicted?"

"No."

"See, you have no idea. It's stressful moving house when it's your choice. When it isn't..."

I wasn't aware the boundaries of my demonic rage were so vast, usually being the sort that loses my temper very quickly but when she said: "You have alot of things" I snapped.

"No I don't have a lot of things, I just have a small flat so it looks like it. My alot of things are stuck in storage somewhere from when I was last evicted."

We talk about my desire for permanent housing, she says I'm unlikely to get that. I tell her I want the cap taken off children's priority, that under 5's get priority. She doesn't believe me so when I say I can prove to her, she says "they don't get any extra points though."

I tell her the points system is really confusing and offer to show her the homesconnection site we bid on each week. She says she's never seen that before so I switch on computer and calm down again. It feels quite nice teaching her something. When she sees under 5's get priority for ground floor flats if they're living over the second floor, she says they have buggies. "Children grow out of buggies," I snap. Too long, too long I've been playing this game....

She says she's call the support manager. Oh support worker my support worker, YOU would be better.

My son came out then asking her if she wanted to come into the room and see the puzzle he'd done. Noooooooooooooooooo son, noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

She told me she'd phone the school if that was alright. I can hardly say no. Then she said she'd call me and I said I was going to my voluntary job today, so she said tomorrow.

I don't know where my head was. I didn't tell her I'd interviewed her boss last year. I was thinking of Lucky and her battles.

This morning though, deputy head wasn't in the playground so I asked the head if she was in today because she'd get a call. I was so angry about the interchange with the social worker, so angry she'd got my son to talk about how much he liked school then telling me I had to prepare him for leaving it, that I told the head that I had this parallel idea of going to the press "to wrench all this rubbish open."

Oh yes, the Pomegranite Plan. Social workers I thought were not part of that plan of p's but what's a social worker if not a Public sector worker?

Meant to be?

Find out in the morning when she calls me.