On Sunday he had lost his temper furiously on three occasions, and lashed out at one of the residential social workers in the home who was working closely with him. But on the third occasion, he controlled his fury for the first time.The methods of the home has been tried and tested, says Babs Seymour, assistant director. “The basic philosophy is that these children know we can survive them, and they can’t destroy us. Caldecott is unique in having its own school, designed specifically for the needs of the children.Greg, who is nine and arrived three months ago, throws himself off the swing and is coaxed into acknowledging a recent victory in his behaviour. It takes on the most disturbed children within the care system, many of whom have already been through a host of failed foster placements and other homes. They are often intensely violent when they arrive, and almost all have learning difficulties. But lunchtime is reassuringly similar, as the six to 11-year-olds collect up their plates, chat enthusiastically in between being told not to talk with their mouths open.The community, which cares for 68 children in groups of eight from the ages of five to 18, was set up 84 years ago.

This is an ideal place to do that, it’s as close to home as you can get.”The approach to the Caldecott Community in Ashford, Kent, could not be more different to Merseyside: the rolling hills of the North Downs, the lake, the horses, the converted stables and the mansion house. She can’t wait for that day to come when she can come home.”But it is one of the home’s strengths that everything is talked about. The team is clear that the ideal is always moving the children on to a real family situation as quickly and painlessly as possible. Terri and Brian Kennedy, who have been fostering children for more than 20 years, and are currently caring for a 15-year-old boy from the home openly discuss how the system works as the children run in and out around them.Brian says: “In an ideal world, children would be fostered straight into a family, but you can’t do that to a child after what it’s been through You have to find their needs. They meet twice a week in a move towards Sally returning home, and on Wednesdays they cook a meal together.

Her mother, who is also fighting to hold on to custody of her two year-old daughter, says: “When she comes to me she doesn’t want to come back. Bangers and mash with mushy peas are shared around, manners encouraged at the table, plates collected, semolina greeted unenthusiastically for desert. Permission to go and watch television is requested immediately afterwards in the living room.Despite the reassuring atmosphere it is still impossible not to see the children’s vulnerability. Sally, 11, is anxious to show a photograph of her baby sister, and the presents her mother has bought her. The staff are dead funny as well, and they tell really funny jokes. What’s the fastest cake in the world? It’s scone!”The scene at tea-time is reminiscent of any large family gathering. “It’s like we’re all brothers and sisters, but we’re not, we’re just here with each other.

Each has a “key” worker from a staff of 10, all trained in the residential care of children. They have their own rooms, covered in football posters, Walt Disney wallpaper and bright duvet covers; and there are meetings each week to discuss house issues with the children, dominated last week by “toy swapping”, which was causing too many fights.Stephen, a thoughtful 11-year-old who arrived six months ago peers over his glasses, which have earned him the nickname “Brains”, and explains that the trips and the food are among the best thing about the home But he stresses the attachments are also strong. One parent said to me when their child came to us, do what you have to do, then when he comes out in a fortnight he’ll be fine. It’s as if they think we’re a conveyor-belt, and the children roll off wonderful at the end of it.”The home has only six places and the children vary in ages from six to 12. The home moved from a larger, more institutional building to its current location three years ago.”One of the first things we did when we moved in was invite the neighbours in, because a lot of them were worried, and we wanted to be part of the community,” she says. “A lot of people think we lock the children up and hang them at dawn.

The children play with friends on the street, they invite them in for tea, and they go to local clubs, dancing, cadets and football. But within those confines, the workers are determined to offer the children as stable and happy an environment as they can. They aim to teach them social skills that may allow them to return to their own families, with whom the home works very closely, or to foster parents.Joan Whitfield, the manager, is anxious to break down the stereotypes of children’s homes, and to make it blend in with the community. At worst, they were targeted by networks of paedophiles who have worked undetected for years.The team that runs the Merseyside home under Knowsley local authority, is under no illusions that it will always be second best to a real family. In homes that have failed, which have received no less financial support than those that have struggled to succeed, workers were untrained, morale was pitiful, children were neglected and often exposed to harsh discipline. More than 10,000 children are in care in Britain at a cost of up to pounds 2,000 each a week.