The No. 1 Sunday Times Bestseller. At just eight years old, Jodie is violent, aggressive and extremely challenging. Five carers in four months have been unable to cope, but there is one last hope: Cathy Glass… As Jodie begins to trust Cathy and make progress, shocking details about her past come to light. No one had noticed the glaring signs of abuse by those who were supposed to love her most. One of Cathy’s earliest and bestselling memoirs, Damaged is a heartbreaking story that proves just how valuable foster carers are for society’s most vulnerable children. Cathy Glass's book 'Helpless' was a No.1 Sunday Times bestseller w/c 2024-09-02. 'Cannot fail to move those who read it.' Adoption-net ‘Heartbreaking.' The Mirror ‘A truly harrowing read that made me cry.’ The Sun 'A true tale of hope. ****.' OK! ‘Foster carers rarely get the praise they deserve, but Cathy Glass’s book should change all that.****’ First Magazine ‘A hugely touching and emotional true tale.’ Star Magazine Cathy has been a foster carer for over 25 years, during which time she has looked after more than 100 children, of all ages and backgrounds. She has three teenage children of her own; one of whom was adopted after a long-term foster placement. The name Cathy Glass is a pseudonym. Cathy has written 16 books, including bestselling memoirs Cut, Hidden and Mummy Told Me Not To Tell. Damaged By Cathy Glas HarperCollins Publishers Copyright © 2007 Cathy Glas All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-0-00-723636-7 Excerpt CHAPTER 1 Emotional Blackmail The phone rang. It was Jill, my link worker from thefostering agency. 'Cathy, it's not two carers, but five,' she said. 'Five,since coming into care four months ago.' 'Good heavens.' I was astonished. 'And she's onlyeight? That must have taken some doing. What's shebeen up to?' 'I'm not sure yet. But Social Services want apre-placement meeting, to be certain she doesn't haveanother move. Are you still interested?' 'I don't know enough not to be. When?' 'Tomorrow at ten.' 'All right, see you there. What's her name?' 'Jodie. Thanks, Cathy. If you can't do it, no one can.' I warmed to the flattery; it was nice to be appreciatedafter all this time. Jill and I had been working togethernow for four years and had established a good relationship.As a link worker for Homefinders Fostering Agency,Jill was the bridge between the foster carers and socialworkers dealing with a particular case. She coordinatedthe needs of the Social Services with the foster carers,and provided support and help as it was needed. Aninexperienced foster carer often needed a lot of back-up andexplanations of the system from their link worker. As Jilland I had been working together for some time, and Iwas an experienced foster carer, we were used to eachother and got on well. If Jill thought I was up to the task,then I was sure she meant it. But a pre-placement meeting? It had to be bad. Usuallythe children just arrived, with a brief introduction if they'dcome from another carer, or with only the clothes theystood in if they'd come from home. I'd had plenty of experienceof both, but none at all of a pre-placement meeting. Usually there was a meeting between everyone involved inthe case as soon as the child had been placed in foster care,but I'd never been to one held beforehand. It was my first inkling of how unusual this case was.The following morning, we went about our normal, quietroutine of everyone getting up and dressed and havingbreakfast, and then the children made their way off toschool. I had two children of my own, Adrian who wasseventeen, and Paula, the youngest at thirteen. Lucy, whohad joined the family as a foster placement two years ago,was fifteen and now a permanent member of our family,just like a daughter to me and a sister to Adrian andPaula. She was a success story: she had come to me hurtand angry and had, over time, learned to trust again, andeventually settled down to a normal existence where shehad only the usual teenage angst to fret about, instead ofthe turmoil she had known as a child. I was proud of her,and she was testament to my belief that love, kindness,attention and firm boundaries are the basis of what anychild needs to flourish. As I saw the children off to school that morning, I felt atwinge of apprehension. The child I was going to learnabout today would most certainly need all those things inabundance, and if I took her on I would have to be preparedto say goodbye to my relatively peaceful, steady routine fora while, until she learned to trust me and settled down, justas Lucy had. But that was the point of fostering – it wasn'teasy by any means, but the rewards were so enormous.Besides, I had fostered almost continuously for over twentyyears now and wasn't sure I could really remember whatlife before it had been like. Once the children had left, I went upstairs and quicklychanged from my joggers into a pair of smart navytrousers and a jumper, and headed for the Social Service