14. THEO’S WISHES.

I assessed Theo at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, which Theo visits on a daily basis for his nanny share. Theo is a bright and energetic little boy, if occasionally lacking in self-regulation and awareness of the needs of others. I was able to witness the parenting style of both Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, and noted that they included Theo in making decisions wherever possible.

I then requested to be left alone with Theo so we could have a chat. In the course of our discussion I asked Theo to draw a picture of a place where he would feel safe. In response he drew what looked like a castle. When asked, he identified the castle’s location as “Here.”

I then asked him to draw some people he thought he might need with him in the castle to keep him safe. After some thought he drew a policeman and what he informed me was a guard dog. I asked if there were any people he knew who he would like in his castle, who could also help to keep him safe. He drew a picture of a stick man with an object. When questioned, he identified this as Mr. Lambert, holding a rugby ball.

I then gently elicited from Theo where Mr. Riley and Ms. Wilson would be in his picture, and also where Mrs. Lambert would be. He indicated that Mrs. Lambert would be next to Mr. Lambert. Mr. Riley and Ms. Wilson would be outside the castle. He drew all three figures, then what he told me was a catapult, firing rugby balls at Mr. Riley.

While Theo is clearly too young to make a reliable direct statement about his wishes, I believe it is clear that in the brief time he has known them he has become very attached to his birth parents, and feels confident and cared for in their company.

In summary, I believe Theo would welcome the opportunity to be returned to his natural family on a permanent basis, and that is my recommendation to the court. Monthly access visits for Mr. Riley and Ms. Wilson should take place in a supervised contact center, to minimize the effects of interfamilial acrimony.

Lyn Edwards

Family Court Adviser

88

    PETE

THE COURT-APPROVED PSYCHOLOGIST CAME to see Theo at our house. Perhaps bizarrely, I couldn’t help liking the man. His name was Harvey Taylor and he arrived on a touring bike, which led to a discussion about frames and the best width of rim for coping with London potholes.

“Right,” Harvey said at last, when I’d made him coffee. He looked around our small living space. “I need to assess Theo without you present, so I guess you’ll have to go out for an hour or so.”

“Of course. I appreciate you’ve got a job to do, so I’ll let you get on with it. Is there anything you need?”

He indicated his backpack. “It’s all here, thanks. Oh, and I have some checklists to go through with you when you get back.”

I left the house and paced the streets, too anxious to go and sit in a café. It was strange to think that while I was out walking, Harvey and Theo were having a conversation that could decide our family’s future.

After exactly an hour, I went back. Theo was playing with Duplo on the floor and Harvey was sitting at the kitchen table, writing notes.

“Hi there,” he said when he saw me. “Would it be all right if Theo went upstairs for a bit? I’d rather do the checklists on our own.”

“Of course. Theo, could you take your Duplo up to your bedroom? I’ll come and build something with you later.”

When Theo was upstairs, Harvey said, “Before we start, can you tell me about these? I’m curious.” He indicated the star charts lining the walls.

“Oh.” I explained about the parenting classes, and how I’d learned that some kids react better to reward systems than to punishments. “It’s made a massive difference,” I added.

He nodded. “That fits with what I’m seeing—that Theo has a very particular learning style.”

He pulled out a checklist. “Don’t be alarmed if some of these questions sound a bit strange. If another child was upset, would Theo try to help them, for example by giving them a toy?”

I shook my head. “Almost certainly not. In fact, he doesn’t really like sharing toys.”

Harvey made a note. “Does he like animals?”

“It depends what you mean by ‘like,’?” I said cautiously. “He enjoys them, certainly. But he tends to do a lot of poking and banging of them to see how they react.” There had been an embarrassing occasion when he’d been asked to leave the petting zoo after trying to swing a rabbit around by its ears.

“What about keeping promises and commitments? Is he good at that?”

I pointed at one of the star charts. “As you can see, he’s getting better. But it’s been a struggle.”

There were a dozen more questions—“How responsive is he to affection? How anxious does he get? How fearful of getting hurt is he? Is he gentle with other children?” At the end Harvey put the checklist down and said, “Again, don’t be alarmed by what I’m about to tell you, but Theo almost certainly has what psychologists call CU traits. CU stands for ‘callous and unemotional.’?” He studied my face. “You don’t seem very surprised.”

“Is it hereditary?”

“Ah.” Harvey nodded slowly as the implication of my question sank in. “It can be, yes. Except that, in adults, we would call it psychopathy.”

“In that case,” I said, “I’m not surprised at all.” But then the ramifications of what he’d just said sank in on me. “And if it’s hereditary, it can’t be cured. Theo will grow up to be just like his father.”

“Well, I haven’t met his father, so I can’t comment on that. But what I can say is that just because something is hereditary, it doesn’t mean the future is fixed. We think an underdevelopment of part of the brain called the amygdala may give certain children a disposition toward CU. But personality is malleable, particularly in the very young. A CU diagnosis may simply mean they need a particular kind of parenting to help them learn the human qualities the rest of us pick up without thinking.” He indicated the star charts. “You’re already doing a lot of it. Punishments mean nothing to kids with CU, but they’re very goal-oriented. So rewards are definitely the way to go. Oh, and time-outs don’t work—you can forget about the naughty step, for example.”

“I’d already worked that out for myself,” I said with feeling.

He nodded. “What can definitely help is what we call warm parenting—talking about feelings, displaying lots of emotion yourself, reinforcing any small signs of empathy or emotional literacy that Theo displays. Show him that emotions are good, even enriching, for the person having them. Show him that warmth and positivity and affection are the real measure of success.”

“That is exactly what I try to do,” I said helplessly.

“I’m sure it is.” Harvey started packing away his things.

“But can you tell the court that? Can you say I’m a good parent?”

Harvey looked at me sympathetically. “I don’t think you understand—that isn’t my remit. I’m simply here to assess whether or not Theo would be traumatized by the shock of changing families, if that’s what’s decided by the judge. And I’m afraid I’m going to have to tell the court that, like any kid with CU traits, he’d hardly bat an eyelid.”

89

    PETE

“OUR CHILD IS A psychopath,” I whispered.

The words had been going around and around my head for so long, it was almost a relief to say them out loud.

“No, he’s not,” Maddie said. “Children can’t be psychopaths. You told me that yourself.”

That, at least, was true. Harvey Taylor had told me that a person couldn’t be diagnosed as a psychopath until they’d turned eighteen.

“I have a horrible feeling that’s a technical distinction. He’s a psychopath in embryo form.”

“But Theo’s got you,” Maddie persisted. “And you’re the very definition of a warm, involved parent.”

As if on cue, Theo ran downstairs. “C’mon, Daddeee. Let’s go,” he announced, pulling at my hand. “Swings! Swings! Swings!”

“Okay, Theo,” I said, standing up. “But give Mummy a hug first. Because mummies like hugs. It makes them feel happy.”

“See?” Maddie said over Theo’s head as he hugged her. “You’re doing it already.”