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Consuming bubble bath was one thing but I worried that if she was really hungry she might decide to snack on something solid during the night. If an object slipped down her throat, how on earth would I know about it before the morning? The thought paralysed me and as I stood at the door and watched her climb into bed that night I almost sighed with relief at the temporary reprieve.

‘Goodnight, sweetie. Now, you mustn’t put anything in your mouth, OK? I’m just down the hall if you need me.’

As I went downstairs I felt as if I was lowering myself into a narrow box, the sides closing in around me and the lid nailed down by unseen hands. It may sound strange but at the beginning of every placement I’ve taken on, there has been a short period when I’ve felt trapped by my decision to foster. I guess it’s a natural reaction – it feels surreal to suddenly be responsible for another human being, especially when there is absolutely no connection between you.

Thankfully, I have managed to build a rapport with each of the children I’ve cared for in a short space of time, usually within a few days. As each relationship strengthened, I found that the claustrophobia ebbed away. The trouble was, with Phoebe, I just couldn’t see it happening. Down in the living room, I visualised the virtual calendar I had in my head; she would be gone before the end of the Easter holidays – one day down, 13 to go.

The next morning I woke at just after 6am, feeling a bit more positive. Phoebe had slept right through the night, something I hadn’t expected at all. Most children struggled to settle for the first few nights in a strange bed and so I had been prepared for some degree of sleep deprivation.

Relishing the silence, I washed and dressed then pottered downstairs and made myself a coffee. Sitting at the kitchen table, I watched a pair of robins settling on the branch of our apple tree, their wings shining in the bright, early morning sunshine. The scent of winter jasmine floated through the open window, boosting my already lightened mood. As I sipped my warm drink, I dared to think that the placement might not be as difficult as I had first thought. With firm boundaries in place, Phoebe’s symptoms might not be so pronounced as they were on her arrival. I wasn’t that knowledgeable about autism but I had heard that routine went a long way in helping sufferers to cope with the everyday stresses that other children barely noticed.