'Why am I not convinced that the new jeans and top and nails and tattoo are all gifts?' Photograph: Ken Howard/Alamy
When something bad happens, it takes me a few days to recover. And always at the back of my mind is the knowledge that there are certain things that I will never recover from.
I will never recover if I lose contact with either of my daughters and I will never recover if something terrible happens to either of them. And that is most likely with my younger daughter.
I knew things were going wrong when Georgia reappeared in her life and on her Facebook timeline. Whenever Kelly goes through a bad patch, and feels she cannot cope, or feels inadequate, Georgia pops up – and the course of action she advocates for Kelly is entirely detrimental.
The weekend before last, Kelly stayed at the house of a girl called Beth. This I can cope with. Just. Beth is a known troublemaker but seems to have reformed – or at least I am holding on to the hope that she has reformed.
The weekend goes OK, but Kelly catches a bad cold. There are jokes about who gave the cold to who on Facebook. All normal teenage girl stuff.
But as the week progresses things deteriorate. There are reports of Kelly wandering round town with £600. On Wednesday, when she should be at the much-hated functional skills lesson (basically maths and English classes) at college, she lies to me and does not go.
The rumours of the £600 are, Kelly assures me, a mistake. Her sister Jess, from whom the reports emanated, was given this information by Georgia. Georgia later tells me that her friend, referred to as "Pieface", told her that Kelly had £600 and she thought she meant my Kelly, but it was another Kelly. I feel a familiar sense of dread.
And Kelly has turned up with new clothes. A white pair of Nike trainers. The last time Georgia appeared in our lives, she stole from us. Among the things she pilfered were a pair of white trainers belonging to Kelly. Kelly says Georgia has simply returned them. Why am I not convinced? And why am I not convinced that the new jeans and top and hairdo and nails and tattoo are all gifts. I brace myself for a visit from the police.
I am normally very good at hiding my wallet from Kelly, and my husband is getting better at hiding his. We have given Jess a key and her room is permanently locked.
So I was shocked to discover that Kelly had stolen my bank card, obtained my pin and taken out £110.
But she did not take this money out until the Friday. How did she get the pin? Was she paying someone back? Is the matter now over?
I challenge Kelly and her behaviour reverts back to the sort of debilitating anger of a couple of years ago. She quickly becomes unstable. And I mean unstable.
I know if I go to the police, one of two things will happen. She faces a custodial sentence and most likely will not come out, or not come out in a functional state. Or she will be fined. And as she has no money that will mean me paying it off.
She used to have some savings – but we took them all to pay previous court fines. Just one of the many lessons in consequences that are singularly pointless if a disturbed child is not being supported in a more positive way to deal with their trauma.
And support is not something our local authority does, not unless it's the youth offending team with the most wonderful people trying to turn around lives with insufficient resources.
My husband has a plan for dealing with the latest issue. As ever, it involves sanctions and boundaries that will impact on Kelly but not damage her. She is furious but knuckling under. We are exhausted.
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