In My Sister's Shadow (Book 1)

13. They're Here!

Lego bricks were strewn across the living room chocolate brown carpet. The kids must have been building a tower when the social workers swarmed inside and knocked it over. Sitting in the corner of the room crestfallen in a sunken frame, Zayn dwarfed in front of the social workers. Dressed in a black t-shirt tight around his contracted arms holding his head in his hands as though the weight was unbearable for his neck and shoulders. Standing in the midst of a potential disaster I stepped in making my presence known; words failed me. My throat tight like a fist.

"Auntie!" Zara called out and ran behind my legs in floods of tears. I kneeled and hugged her as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"What's going on?" I looked at the man for answers.

Neither of the social workers deemed my presence of any importance. They ignored me like I was invisible.

"Mr Azlan it's an interim care order so we can share parental responsibility to safeguard the children. You are clearly struggling." The woman explained. "You were invited and failed to attend numerous case conferences and left us no choice. We've had reports from neighbours of an assault, altercations with police attendance. Frankly we are concerned for the welfare of the children."

Alarm bells blared. How long were the children known to the social workers?

"Under what conditions have you applied for a care order? What has Zayn done?" My voice stern I stepped closer to the woman who cast a brief look at me.

"The children are at risk."

"At risk from what? I share parental responsibility with Zayn." I explained.

I had her attention. She shifted her heavy body round and cocked her head to the side. "And you are?" She sifted through her notes.

The man stepped closer on hearing this.

"I'm Zohra, Zeenat's sister. Their auntie." I put my arm around Armaan and stroked his head. "I'm also Zayn's wife. How can you come in here and claim you are taking them?"

Both the social workers looked at each other. A look of surprise washed their face with a blank expression. Zayn sunk defeated at this point. He held Aymaan in his arms, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Wife? But we have no record of this." The woman social worker checked her paperwork and sat down to go through them. I read the name on her badge, Gloryanne Griffiths and Mark Samson. I was fuming that they were dragging the children through this absurdity. They'd lost their mother, now they were at risk of losing their father, home and school.

"When did you marry Zayn?" Asked Mark.

"Last week, the 17th."

"Why were we not informed?" Gloryanne became defensive. She edged on the sofa.

"You don't have the facts and you come charging in here demanding to take the children with a shoddy interim care order. How is that possible?" My face was burning hot. "I'm living here caring for my niece and nephews. I'm the protective factor. They're not being neglected. Since my sister passed away my parents and I have rallied around the children and taking care of them."

"Mr Azlan why have you not told us about your personal circumstances?" Gloryanne glared at Zayn who was quite in midst of the chaos.

"We should be informed about anyone who lives in this property." Explained Mark. The children gathered around Zayn as he watched Mark scribble on the paperwork.

To my shock the situation was serious than I initially anticipated. "The children are on the Child Protection Register." Mark explained.

I took in a deep sigh of utter disbelief sinking into the sofa listening to the facts. It had been 18 months since the family were initially referred to the social services. Over the period the situation escalated to the culmination of interim care order; to essentially remove the children from Zayn's care. The first time the social workers were informed was when Aymaan spilled a cup of boiling water on his hand. At that moment he was home alone with his brother. A neighbour took him to hospital and Zeenat arrived later. I could only guess who this infamous neighbour was.