Steve is 30, hardworking; a straight up and down sort of bloke. He sees no need for things to be complicated, but of course, life rarely works out that way. When he was little his family moved to Norwich from London (he’s still a Chelsea fan, though). He grew up the second of four siblings, and the only boy. First it was just him and his big sister Esme. She’s a nurse now, with two sons of her own. Then came Cheryl (the creative one), who’s just had her first child. And then there’s Cassie, just turned 16, the baby of the family. Steve always says they are a close family, and always have been. His dad doesn’t say much, and he’s always working. Mum’s always been the boss in their house, but they work as a team and worked hard to give Steve and his sisters the best in life.

Steve works for Aviva. A couple of years ago he bought himself a nice flat on Riverside (Dad helped with the deposit). It’s got all mod cons; new charcoal grey carpets, an impressive fish tank and state of the art telly. And then, the kids’ toys are in a big wooden box in the corner. He goes to the local Pure Gym three times a week and used to play football for a local pub team. He can’t play as much now though, not since the kids came along and it all went wrong with Abi.

Steve and Abi met six years ago in a pub. They’d had a fling at a festival the previous summer, and as soon as they locked eyes on each other that night it was only going to end one way. At first, it was all just a bit of a laugh; going out, having a good time. Wherever they went Steve was proud to have her on his arm, and Abi felt secure, Steve was steady, and handsome, and she always said she needed a rock to cling to. Abi moved in almost straight away, she hadn’t had an easy upbringing, and her family weren’t there for her. A few months later, Steve heard her crying in the bathroom one night; Abi was pregnant. Steve was blindsided, he thought she had contraception sorted, she said she was taking care of all that. He wasn’t planning to have kids so young – wanted to wait until he was earning a bit more, maybe a house with a garden, but when it happened Steve knew he had to deal with it. His mum taught him that, you can’t walk away from your mistakes. Steve went into action mode, telling Abi it would all be fine, and they’d make it work. Abi was not so sure. Steve drove her everywhere she needed to go, appointments at doctors and the scans at the hospital. He went to every antenatal class going and read all the leaflets; Steve wanted to do things right. Abi was not so sure, but Steve didn’t want to hear it. Abi struggled with it all, and with her past; she couldn’t get on with the midwife and couldn’t keep her temper. Abi also kept on drinking, and not just the odd glass. That caused arguments and Steve felt she just wasn’t the whole thing seriously.

When Charlotte was born, it all happened very quickly. The labour was short but intense, and they were out of hospital within a day. The shock and pain of childbirth took Abi by surprise, and when they got home, she went straight to sleep, leaving Steve holding their new baby. He stared at his daughter; he could hardly believe it. He didn’t know it then, but everything changed that day. Steve wanted to get on and get sorted; like his mum and dad had. Steve was working more hours and Abi just needed to get her head around looking after Charlotte. But the strain soon began to show. Abi was tired all the time and didn’t want to do anything or go anywhere, even when Steve’s mum invited her or offered to pick her up. Steve got more frustrated and didn’t know what to do for the best. He tried to get Abi back to her old self, take her out now and again, when his mum could have Charlotte. When Charlotte was almost a year old, Abi got pregnant again. Steve said they didn’t want an only child, it wouldn’t be good for Charlotte, and Abi was an only, and that didn’t do her any good. So, they called their baby, Alfie, after Steve’s grandad. And they tried to make it work.

Steve always did what he could; put them to bed, read a story, took them to the park, or out somewhere at the weekend, to give her a break. But he had to bring in the money; that was his job, and he just wanted her to do hers. Sometimes when he got home from work, he would find Abi asleep and the place in a mess, or the kids crying upstairs. So, the arguments got worse. Always about the same things. Her drinking, not getting her act together with the kids, not going to the doctor to get some help. Steve would say that he couldn’t do it all, Abi would say “I’m sorry I’m not your perfect bloody mother”. Eventually things reached a breaking point when Steve had an affair with someone at work. Abi was distraught and furious. She left in a whirl of anger and tears, taking the kids with her, and went to stay with her cousin the other side of the city. Steve knew it wasn’t his finest hour, but it was probably inevitable. Abi got a council flat, not much, but ground floor, with a bit of garden. At first, they made between them for him to see the kids – every Thursday and every other weekend. For a few months it worked okay, but then Abi started making excuses for why they couldn’t see him that week, or why they’d have to change the plan. It got worse when she started seeing someone; a bloke called Andy, who Steve heard was known for dealing drugs. The excuses increased and Abi looked worse than he’d seen her in a while. When Steve did see the kids, they just seemed different, quieter, more tired, getting more upset when it was time to go back to Abi. Steve tried to talk to Abi about this, but it just caused more rows. A few months later Abi stopped answering his calls and he hadn’t seen the kids for weeks. Steve and his mum went round but Abi wouldn’t answer the door. Steve was really worried about the kids but didn’t know what to do.

After weeks of no contact, Steve felt he had no choice. He was torn between his pride and his worry for the kids. He rang social services, but it didn’t go well. They said they’d visit Abi to check on the kids, but he was told he’d have to go to court if he wanted to see them. After that, things got worse. Steve got a letter from CAFCASS, telling him that Abi had made accusations of domestic violence, that mediation was not seen as appropriate, and that an assessment of him, and the children’s best interests would be made. Steve was raging. Raging against the allegations, the assessment, and the interference. So now he had to prove he was a good dad? How was that fair. What about Abi’s ‘fitness’ as a mum, what about all the crap she’d put them through? Steve did the assessment and agreed to supervised time with his kids at a contact centre. He hated the judgement of it all, seeing his kids for the first time in weeks with some ‘supervisor’s’ eyes burning into his back. After six sessions the assessment reported no concerns, and a child arrangements order was made for Steve to see Charlotte and Alfie every week. Abi kicked off at the court and Steve knew it wasn’t going to work. Despite the court order, the pattern of excuses, being late, refusing to let Steve see the kids continued.

Then one night, in the early hours, while Steve was asleep, the phone rang. It was the police. They had stopped and charged Abi for being drunk in charge of a vehicle, with Charlotte and Alfie in the back. They had his name from Children’s Services’ records and asked that the children stay with him as an emergency measure. Steve is staggered. He sorted the flat, phoned his mum, and the kids arrived looking tearful and tired. Steve got them to sleep, and in the morning called work to get some time off. Another social worker visited, and another assessment is planned as part of determining the best care for the kids. Steve gritted his teeth and did what he was asked. Abi was devastated; her drinking got worse, and she wouldn’t speak to the social workers, or to Steve. Steve slowly got his head around being a different kind of dad; it wasn’t what he imagined, but he loved it. His mum helped out (a lot) and his manager was okay about stuff, so he managed. The kids did great, they settled. Steve did a mean French plait and Alfie got into football. He tried to sort it so they could see Abi, but she was all over the place. Steve just wanted her to step up, get herself better. After nearly a year Steve went back to court to apply for a new arrangements order, for the kids to live with him. Waiting for judgement, he felt torn, and he still didn’t know which way it would go. It was best for the kids to be with him – everyone said so. But Abi was still their mum wasn’t she, and kids need their mums, don’t they? He didn’t know how they’d move on.