'My abusive past means I understand these kids'

THE woman sitting before me is blonde and pretty, super-slim in faded jeans, and full of life. Alongside her is her mother-in-law, who also fosters and is a trusted ally, but as the interview progresses, it's the younger woman, who we'll call Louise, who dominates. She's like a beacon - all Northern warmth and with a sunny, youthful charm. And yet she wasn't always this way. Once she was full of anger.

While I didn't know this in advance - Louise is careful who she tells - from the age of six to 16, she suffered monstrous abuse. As we embark on our conversation, which I think will focus on foster care, she drops a bombshell. She answers my first question - what made her think of fostering? - without demurring. "Because of my own experiences as a child, I'm unable to have children," she explains. "I found out when I was about 19. It was really disheartening."

Born in Gateshead to a girl of 16, for the first few years of Louise's life, she lived in her grandparents' family home. It was when her mum got married - to Louise's stepdad - that things began to go wrong. "We moved away from the Gateshead area and I was brought up in Newcastle," she says. "Within a year of them being married, I suffered sexual abuse, physical abuse and emotional neglect. Basically every day was different. I learned to read what type of day it was going to be."

While her stepdad was the main abuser, Louise's mum was complicit. "Even though I told her, my mum shrugged it off," she says. "She couldn't cope with it so she just closed off."

So Louise was trapped in a private misery, devoid of love and starved of care. When three more children came along, she couldn't protect them. "I had three younger sisters and I had to sit by and watch him (her stepdad) beating them," she says. "I didn't do anything drastic because of the threats he would make that we would be split up and never see each other again. By this time I was slyly drinking alcohol and using drugs."

At what age was this?, I interject, knowing she was still a child. "I was 11 when I got into drugs and alcohol. It was speed, cocaine, cannabis, grass - anything I could get my hands on. It didn't hurt as much," says Louise simply.

Did no-one notice her behaviour? "It was well noted but they turned round and said I was a bad child," she says. "I was spoilt, jealous, vindictive, volatile. The authorities didn't know - it was never reported."

While years have passed since she felt such pain - Louise is now 39 - her sheer bewilderment remains raw. "I remember sitting in the classroom looking at the other kids - how they were dressed and how they behaved - and I used to assume bad things were happening to them," she says.

What made things worse was her mum's behaviour. "She was just a slapper," says Louise dismissively. "She went out and had plenty of boyfriends. She didn't have time for us. I was basically the housewife, the mother, the brunt of anything that went around."

By the time she reached 16, Louise had had enough. She moved out and went to live with friends - but things just got worse. "I was constantly in trouble with the police," she says. "I had four different jobs and I was only able to manage that because of the amount of amphetamines I was on. Other sidelines in illegal activities took place."

Such as? "Fraud, theft, breaking and entering, delivering drugs," she elucidates. "In between all this there were a few hospitalisations when I accidentally overdosed or because of a lack of eating and an unhealthy diet. I was always just about six, six and a half stones."

The older she got, the more her pain turned to anger. "It was very confusing because you're hoping to grow up and by this time, you're very aware that everything that's happened to you was wrong," says Louise. "You can't understand it so you're constantly fighting with yourself. I would just lash out and be in self-destruct mode."

With no self-worth, she became involved in bad relationships, caught in a cycle of abuse. Her first marriage at 22 was a disaster.

"I didn't love him - there was nothing there," she says. "I married him for security, safety, the thought of love, the thought of being wanted or needed, the thought of being normal. I had in my head a certain lifestyle that I wanted. I was living in a dream world."

Then something happened to wake her up. Out of the blue, one of her sisters came to see her. She had a mission: to persuade Louise to go to court. "She just knocked on my door one day and said the abuse needed to be reported," she says. "That's what she wanted - that's what she needed at the time. I had no choice."

The case against her stepdad was brought and out of 34 indictments, only three were upheld. In each instance there had been a witness - none other than Louise's mum. "One of the charges was breaking my fingers with pliers," says Louise, revealing the depths of the depravities. "Another was beating my sister with a broom shank. He hit her so hard he damaged the muscle in her thigh. There was also splitting my other sister's back open with a leather belt."

While his punishment was light - he spent just three months in prison - seeing her stepdad brought to justice gave Louise some relief. Desperate for children, she remarried and tried for IVF. "I wasn't thinking of the further damage I would do to myself - mentally, emotionally and physically," she says.

Then a chance meeting through work threw her plans into disarray. "I was just about to start proceedings when I met Mark," says Louise. "From day one, I was open and honest with him. Looking at his face, his eyes, everything about him, there wasn't a change. There was no discomfort, which was a massive thing."

Louise ended her loveless marriage and in 2002, was married to Mark. Soon afterwards, they decided to foster. "I was comfortable," explains Louise. "I was fulfilled with everything in my life. I had no major issues and definitely no crises." Yet while she felt she had much to offer - especially given her past - others were not convinced. "One agency said I would probably do more harm than good," says Louise.

Then she and Mark applied to a private sector firm which works closely with social services. They had an interview, then went through training and intense assessment. At the end of January 2003, shortly after being approved, they received their first child. "She was an emergency placement - very violent and a bit suicidal at the time," recalls Louise.

"She was unable to function within a family. In the end, she had to go into a residential unit." Wasn't she put off by the experience? "Oh no," Louise says cheerfully. "My door is open to any child."

Now well established in fostering, she and Mark have cared for roughly 15 children at their Bishop Auckland home. It's been a labour of love - with many highs and lows. "I've had my house smashed up and I've had my curtains pulled down," says Louise. "It makes you want to cry sometimes. It's hard work - it can be absolutely draining - but the kids keep me going."

Some of the toughest tests have been with David, their longest resident of three years' tenure. "He'd had 34 placements before he came to us," says Louise. "Altogether, he'd had about 24 court appearances in two or three years. For David's own benefit, we got room sensors so we could hear if he was going outside. There was a stage when he climbed out of the bedroom window so we got CCTV cameras."

So what are the rewards? Louise waxes lyrical. "When they cuddle you and say they've missed you, when they apologise to you, when you get up and they've made you a cup of tea and some toast. It's the change in the children when they've passed their exams or when they said they couldn't do something and you've helped them and a few days later, they do it on their own."

She never presumes to know what her children are going through, as "every child is different", yet Louise's past clearly helps her bond with those in pain. "I'm much more understanding of their reactions, of their anger, of their self-destruction, of their self-harm," she says. "I'm in every child."

What shines through is her amazing strength - and her mission that those she nurtures should have this too. "I take this very, very seriously," says Louise. "It's what I've wanted to do and I'm doing it and I'm going to do a bloody good job if I can."

* The names in this article have been changed.

* For more information on fostering, visit www.fostering.net