Daddy’s Little Princess

‘Yes. I’ll bring Paula in with me,’ I said.

‘We’ll come down when we’ve finished,’ Miss Willow said to Adrian and Beth.

‘Yes, Miss,’ they chimed respectfully. Adrian and Beth went downstairs where the library was situated.

Taking Paula’s hand, I followed Miss Willow into her classroom.

‘Thank you for coming,’ she said again. ‘Do sit down.’ Then to Paula: ‘Would you like to do some crayoning?’

Paula gave a shy nod. ‘I am sure she would,’ I said.

Miss Willow took some paper and crayons from one of the cupboards and set them on the table, then she drew up two extra chairs for Paula and me. Beth liked Miss Willow, and I could see why. She was a warm, friendly person. I guessed she was in her late twenties; she was fashionably but smartly dressed and had long brown hair. I knew she’d joined the school the year before, and playground gossip said she was an excellent teacher. I was quietly hoping that Adrian would be in her class when he went up a year in September.

‘I won’t keep you long,’ she said apologetically. ‘But I thought it would be a good idea if we had a chat, as Beth is living with you. I take it you don’t know yet how long Derek will be in hospital?’

‘No. When Jessie, their social worker, phoned she said he’d had a comfortable night, but that was all.’

‘And you don’t know Derek personally?’ Miss Willow now asked.

‘No. I’ve never met him, although I’ve probably seen him from a distance in the playground at the start and end of school.’

Miss Willow gave a small, thoughtful nod. ‘It’s no secret he’s a single parent. Beth has never known her mother.’

‘So I understand,’ I said.

She paused again. ‘Has Beth said much to you about her father? I know she’s only just arrived, but I wondered if she’d talked about him?’

‘She talks about him non-stop,’ I said, smiling. ‘They’re obviously very close and she misses him a lot.’

‘Yes,’ Miss Willow said, and paused again as though collecting her thoughts.

I glanced at Paula, who was concentrating on her drawing. ‘That’s nice. Good girl,’ I said encouragingly.

‘I’d be grateful if you would keep what I’m going to say to yourself,’ Miss Willow continued, her expression now serious.

‘Yes, of course.’ I met her gaze.

‘The deputy head is aware I’ve asked to see you. We’ve been worried about Beth for some time. Not academically – she’s doing very well with her work – but with regards to her home life.’ Miss Willow paused again. ‘To put it bluntly, we have concerns that Beth’s relationship with her father is far too insular for a girl her age. It’s claustrophobic, and stifling her social development. Beth’s not allowed to attend school outings – there is always an excuse – and I know from the other children she’s not allowed to go to birthday parties or play with friends outside of school. Beth talks a lot about her father. Her whole life seems to revolve around him, and his around her. There was a woman in Derek’s life, but they parted some months ago. The situation deteriorated after that. Beth’s father became ill and Beth became his carer. I was so worried by some of the things Beth was telling me that I spoke to the deputy head, and she alerted the social services. Has Beth said anything to you about …’ Miss Willow paused, searching for the right words ‘… anything that you think is inappropriate?’

I held her gaze. ‘Beth’s only been with me a short while,’ I said. ‘She talks about her father a lot, and she’s brought lots of photographs with her, but she hasn’t really said anything inappropriate.’

Miss Willow gave a small half-nod. ‘I understand. If you do think of anything, would you let her social worker know, please?’

‘Yes, of course,’ I said, puzzled and concerned. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was being asked and had the feeling I wasn’t being told the full story; perhaps confidentiality stopped Miss Willow from saying more.

‘Hopefully the situation will improve now Derek is receiving medical help,’ Miss Willow added.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Miss Willow added. ‘Beth’s a good kid. And I know she’ll be very well looked after staying with you.’

‘Thank you.’

I helped Paula down from her chair and folded her drawing to take with us. I said goodbye and we left the classroom. Holding Paula’s hand we counted down the steps but I was preoccupied and concerned by what Miss Willow had said. ‘Inappropriate’ was the word she’d used. Had Beth said anything inappropriate? Not really, although I remembered I’d felt uncomfortable with the idea of her sleeping snuggled up in my bed as she did with her father. Was that because it was inappropriate? I didn’t know. What Miss Willow had said had taken me by surprise; I’d been expecting a chat about Beth’s progress at school. I realized she must have spoken to Jessie about her concerns, although Jessie hadn’t mentioned them to me.

When we arrived home I told Beth that Jessie had telephoned the hospital and had spoken to a nurse who had said that her daddy had slept well. I also told Beth that she could telephone her father over the weekend. She was delighted. When she went into her bedroom she was pleased with the way I’d displayed her photographs, although she spent a few minutes rearranging them. Beth talked about her daddy over dinner, but with John due home the following evening for the weekend Adrian didn’t appear to feel it so much. ‘You’ll meet my daddy tomorrow,’ he said happily to Beth.

‘You’ll meet my daddy tomorrow,’ Paula repeated.

That night, when I went into Beth’s room to say goodnight, she said, ‘I don’t need Mr Sleep Bear any more. I’ve got my daddy with me.’

I was puzzled for a moment until Beth lifted the duvet to reveal the largest of the framed photographs nestled in bed beside her.

I smiled. ‘I see,’ I said. ‘But the frame is very hard. It might hurt you if you lie on it in the night.’ I was also concerned that the glass could break and cut her if she rolled over onto it in her sleep.

‘I’ll put him under my pillow,’ Beth said. ‘That’s what I did when my daddy was in hospital before.’

‘Oh, when was that?’ I asked. I wasn’t aware Derek had been in hospital before.

‘About a year ago, I think,’ Beth said, kissing the photograph and then sliding it under her pillow. ‘He had to have an operation on his tummy. It was called ernie. When he came home he wasn’t allowed to lift anything heavy.’

‘That would be a hernia,’ I said. ‘So who looked after you while your daddy was in hospital?’

‘Marianne,’ she said, pulling a face. ‘She stays at our flat sometimes. She’s horrible. I hate her.’ It was the first time I’d seen Beth scowl. ‘She loved my daddy, but he didn’t love her. He sent her away. It’s much, much better with just the two of us. I love my daddy and he loves me.’

‘I know, love.’

The following evening, Friday, John returned home for the weekend. As soon as Adrian and Paula heard his key in the front door they rushed down the hall with shouts of ‘Daddy! Daddy’s home!’

I stayed in the living room where I was listening to Beth read as John let himself in and then hugged and kissed Adrian and Paula. ‘We’re in here!’ I called from the living room.

John came into the living room, an arm around Adrian and Paula, and I kissed him and introduced Beth. John knew that Beth was staying; I’d told him when he’d telephoned the evening before. John was as committed to fostering as I was, but now he was working away he could only help at weekends.

‘Hi, Beth,’ he said. ‘How are you settling in?’

‘My daddy’s ill in hospital,’ Beth said. ‘I miss him.’

‘I’m sure you do,’ John said. ‘But the doctors will make him better.’

John sat on the sofa with Adrian beside him and Paula on his lap, making a fuss of the children and generally catching up on their news. Beth was sitting beside me and I saw her expression change and grow gloomy. I could guess why. Now that John was home, the children’s situation was reversed: Adrian and Paula had their daddy with them, which highlighted that Beth’s father was absent. I would try to make it up to her by giving her extra attention.

John ate his dinner with Adrian and Paula seated at the table watching him, while I read Beth a story in the living room. Once John had eaten we played a game together and then I suggested to Beth that she might like to come and help me put Paula to bed. I thought it would give her something to focus on and it would also be nice for Adrian to have some one-to-one time with his father. But Beth didn’t want to come. She said she wanted to stay in the living room, so I left her with John and Adrian. Twenty minutes or so later when I came down to tell John that Paula was in bed and ready for a goodnight kiss, Beth was on the sofa snuggled into John’s side. Adrian, sitting upright, was on the other side of him. Both children were gazing at the book John had open on his lap and was reading from. I told John that Paula was ready for her goodnight kiss and Beth said to John: ‘Do you have to go?’ Taking hold of his arm she snuggled closer into his side.

John hesitated.

‘Yes, he does,’ I said.

‘I won’t be long,’ John said, and gently moved Beth away.

I’d discovered early on in fostering that it was very important (but not always easy) to get the balance right between the attention we gave our own children and those we fostered, to ensure that everyone felt loved, cherished and special.

That night, as I tucked Beth into bed, she asked if John could give her a goodnight kiss, as he had with Paula. ‘Yes, of course,’ I said without hesitation. I called to John, who was in Adrian’s room.

John came into Beth’s bedroom, said goodnight and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

‘Thank you,’ she said sweetly.

‘You’re welcome,’ John said, and I could tell he thought that Beth was as sweet and uncomplicated as I did.

That weekend was bitterly cold and on Saturday we mainly stayed indoors. The children played – sometimes together, sometimes separately and sometimes with John or me. I thought that early afternoon was probably a good time for Beth to telephone her father, so after lunch I left John, Adrian and Paula in the living room and I took Beth to use the telephone in the main bedroom where it would be quieter. Beth perched on the edge of my bed and waited as I dialled the number for the hospital and then asked for Ward 3. Once I was through to the ward I gave my name, explained who I was and that Beth would like to speak to her father, Derek.

‘Just a minute,’ the nurse said. The telephone clunked as it was set down. There was a wait of a minute or so and then the telephone was picked up and a male voice said: ‘Hello, Beth, is that you?’

‘Derek, it’s Cathy,’ I said. ‘Beth’s foster carer. Beth is here beside me.’

‘Oh, thank you so much,’ Derek said. ‘Thank you for phoning. That is kind of you. I can’t begin to tell you how much I’m missing Beth.’ Softly spoken, his voice broke. I could hear the emotion in his voice and my eyes immediately filled.

‘I’ll put her on now,’ I said. I passed the telephone to Beth.

‘Hello, Daddy,’ Beth said in a small voice. ‘When are you coming home?’

‘Soon, baby,’ I heard him say. ‘As soon as I can, my princess. But Daddy’s not well right now. I have to get better first.’

‘How long until you get better, Daddy?’ Beth asked. ‘I miss you so much.’

‘I miss you too, princess. Every minute of the day. Have you been to school?’

‘Yes. Cathy took me.’

‘Good. Thank her for me.’

Beth lowered the telephone and, looking at me with round, sad eyes, said: ‘My daddy says thank you.’

‘That’s OK,’ I said, loud enough for Derek to hear.

‘How long before you can come home, Daddy?’ Beth asked again.

‘Soon, princess. As soon as I’m better,’ Derek said.

‘What’s the matter with you, Daddy?’ Beth now asked.

Derek fell silent and I thought it was a difficult question to answer – to explain mental health to a young child.

‘Things have been getting on top of me,’ he said after a moment, his voice trembling. ‘I keep crying. You saw me. That was wrong. It made you cry too.’

‘I know. I don’t like seeing you cry, Daddy. It makes me upset. I wish you were here with me and I could make you better.’

It went quiet again, and then Beth said: ‘Don’t cry, Daddy. Please don’t cry.’

I heard a stifled sob on the other end of the telephone and then Beth passed the telephone to me. ‘Daddy wants to speak to you.’

I took the phone. I could hear Derek’s muffled sobs. ‘It’s Cathy,’ I said gently. ‘Try not to upset yourself. Beth’s fine. I’m looking after her.’

‘I know you are,’ he said, his voice catching. ‘But I can’t talk to her right now. Hearing her little voice is too upsetting for me. Can you telephone me tomorrow, please? I promise I won’t cry.’

I swallowed hard; the poor dear man, I thought. ‘Yes, of course we’ll telephone tomorrow. Is this time all right for you?’

‘Any time is good,’ Derek said, his voice faltering again. ‘Thank you. Please give Beth my love. I’ll be all right tomorrow, I promise.’ Unable to say any more, he hung up and the line went dead.

I replaced the receiver and looked at Beth. Her eyes glistened and her bottom lip trembled. I took her in my arms and held her. ‘Daddy is a bit upset,’ I said. ‘But he’ll be all right soon. He said to tell you he loves you lots and we’re to telephone again tomorrow.’

‘I love him too,’ Beth said. ‘So, so much.’

Sometimes, fostering can break your heart.

I cuddled Beth until she felt better, then I reassured her that her daddy was being well looked after and we’d speak to him again tomorrow. We then went downstairs to join John, Adrian and Paula, who were covering the table with paper ready to do some painting. Beth sat at the table next to John and was soon joining in, and for the rest of the day she wouldn’t leave John’s side. She followed him like a shadow. Clearly missing her own father, she was taking some comfort in John as a father figure, and it crossed my mind that when John left on Monday for another week working away, Adrian and Paula wouldn’t be the only ones missing him – Beth would too. I also thought it was really nice that Adrian and Paula were able to share their father’s attention so easily with Beth, and I felt very proud of them. They didn’t complain and I recognized how lucky I was that my children were so understanding and accommodating of the children we fostered. It takes the commitment of the whole family to successfully foster.

At bedtime Beth wanted John to kiss her goodnight as he had done the previous night. Paula was already asleep in bed and John was in Adrian’s room helping him complete a large jigsaw puzzle that was spread out all over the floor. This had been a work in progress since Christmas, when the puzzle had been given to Adrian. I called to John from Beth’s room that Beth would like him to say goodnight and he came in. At the same time Adrian called out: ‘Mum! Come and see my puzzle. We’ve nearly finished.’

Leaving John in Beth’s room, I went into Adrian’s room where I admired the puzzle. It had over a thousand pieces and there were only about two dozen left to be fitted.

‘Fantastic!’ I said. ‘You have done well.’

‘I’m not going to break it up when it’s done,’ Adrian said excitedly. ‘Dad said we can glue it on a big board and then he’ll hang it on my bedroom wall.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ I said, and congratulated him again on completing the puzzle.

I came out and returned to Beth’s room and was slightly surprised to see John sprawled on Beth’s bed with his arms around her. He looked up at me as I entered. ‘Beth wanted a cuddle like her daddy gives her,’ he said innocently.

‘She’s got the photograph of her father under her pillow,’ I said with a feeling of unease. ‘And Mr Sleep Bear.’

Perhaps John heard something in my voice, for, giving Beth a quick kiss on the forehead, he climbed off the bed and returned to Adrian’s room to complete the puzzle. John hadn’t done anything wrong, but seeing him lying on the bed beside Beth hadn’t seemed quite right. Miss Willow’s words had come back to me, and the term ‘inappropriate’. It was a word I would soon be learning a lot about.

Chapter Five

Marianne

Sunday was another bitterly cold day so we decided to go to the cinema in the afternoon for the three o’clock showing of a newly released Walt Disney film. After lunch – at about half past one – I took Beth upstairs to my room to telephone her father, leaving Adrian and Paula with their father in the living room. Beth perched beside me on the bed while I dialled the number of the hospital, and once the call was connected to the ward Derek came to the telephone very quickly. As soon as he spoke I knew he was in better spirits. His voice was lighter and sounded more alive.

‘Thank you so much for calling. I’m sorry about yesterday,’ he said.

‘There’s no need to apologize,’ I said. ‘I’m glad you’re feeling a bit better. I’ll put Beth on now.’

‘Thank you, Cathy.’

I passed the telephone to Beth, who was smiling. ‘Hello, Daddy. How are you?’

‘I’m doing all right,’ I heard Derek say. ‘So, how’s my little princess?’

‘I’m all right too,’ Beth said brightly. ‘We’re going to the cinema this afternoon and I’m going to have popcorn and an ice cream.’

I was pleased that Beth was being positive rather than telling her father that she was missing him, as she had done the day before. I’d had a little chat with her that morning when I’d explained that I thought it would help her father if she kept their conversation happy and told him nice things, so he wouldn’t worry so much about her. Clearly she’d taken on board what I’d said, for she was now describing the games we’d been playing and the paintings she’d done for him, which she said she would give him when she next saw him.

I relaxed, and drawing my legs onto the bed I rested against the headboard, prepared for a long telephone conversation. Presently, Beth did likewise and propped herself beside me on the bed. It crossed my mind that I could leave her talking to her father while I got on with something else, but then I thought that Derek might want to speak to me, and if Beth became upset I wanted to be on hand to comfort her. With us both relaxed back against the bedhead, Beth continued chatting gaily to her father, now answering his questions about her clothes. ‘Are you wearing the blue dress I bought you last month? The one with the bow at the back.’

‘No,’ Beth said. ‘I’m wearing my new pink dress.’

‘Good. I like you in that,’ Derek said.

‘I know you do, Daddy, that’s why I chose it.’ Beth grinned.

Beth liked her dresses, preferring them to jeans or jogging bottoms, and spent some time choosing which one to wear when she wasn’t in school uniform.

‘I like to look nice for you, Daddy,’ Beth said, tweaking the flex of the telephone.

‘But I can’t see you,’ Derek joked.

‘I know, but you can think of me in my pink dress, can’t you?’

‘Yes, I can,’ Derek agreed. ‘If I close my eyes I can picture you in your pink dress with your hair flowing over your shoulders like a real princess: Daddy’s princess.’

‘And you’re my prince!’ Beth exclaimed. ‘And we’ll live happily ever after in a magical fairy-tale castle, just you and me.’

Beth also liked her fairy-tale stories and I’d read her quite a few, as she’d told me her father did at home.

‘So, what are you going to see at the cinema?’ Derek now asked.

Beth told him. ‘John is coming,’ Beth added. ‘He’s staying for the weekend.’

‘Who’s John?’ Derek queried.

‘Cathy’s husband,’ Beth said. ‘He’s helping Cathy look after me.’

It went quiet on the other end of the telephone, and then Derek said: ‘Please don’t say that, my princess, or you’ll make your daddy sad. There’s only one man in your life and that’s me, your daddy.’

‘I know, I’m only kidding!’ Beth exclaimed quickly. ‘Please don’t be sad, Daddy. I think about you all the time, even at night. I have to sleep by myself here and I miss you lots. I wanted to sleep with Cathy, but she wouldn’t let me. I have your photo under my pillow, but it’s not the same as being with you.’

‘It’ll have to do for now,’ Derek said flatly. ‘Remember, you never sleep with anyone else, only your daddy. Remember that.’

‘I will,’ Beth said.

I suddenly realized that the conversation seemed to have taken on a different direction, and one that I wasn’t feeling wholly at ease with. I had the same feeling as I’d had when I’d looked at all the framed photographs of Beth and her father, although I still couldn’t identify what it was that was making me feel uncomfortable. I looked at Beth, who was again tweaking the telephone flex. She looked serious as she continued to reassure her father.

‘Of course I won’t sleep with anyone else,’ she said. ‘I only ever sleep with you. You’re my handsome prince and always will be.’

‘Thank you, princess. I love you.’

‘I love you too, Daddy. You’re not sad any more, are you?’

‘No.’

Beth then asked her father what he’d been doing that day and he said watching television. They chatted for about five minutes more, during which time Derek told her about the hospital routine and Beth asked questions, and then he said he had to go. They blew each other lots of kisses and said I love you before they said goodbye, then Derek asked to speak to me. Beth handed me the telephone and went downstairs to join John, Adrian and Paula.

‘I was wondering when you will next phone,’ Derek said.

‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘The social worker just said Saturday and Sunday.’

‘I want Beth to call every evening.’

‘I suppose that’s all right,’ I said, unsure.

‘Good. We have dinner here at six o’clock, so can you telephone me at seven. I’ll be ready and waiting by the telephone then.’

‘Yes, all right, seven o’clock,’ I confirmed, hoping I was doing the right thing.

‘Thank you,’ Derek said. ‘Give Beth my love and tell her I’ll speak to her tomorrow.’

We said goodbye and I went downstairs, where I told Beth what her father had said. She was, of course, delighted she’d be speaking to her father every evening. ‘I miss my daddy,’ she said to us all.

‘Of course you do,’ John said. ‘That’s only natural.’

That evening, when all the children were in bed, and after a pleasant afternoon at the cinema, John and I sat together in the living room, talking.

‘Adrian misses you a lot more than he says,’ I said. ‘I hope you won’t have to work away for much longer.’

‘I hope so too,’ John said with a small shrug. ‘But you know I have to go where the company sends me. I don’t have much choice in the matter.’

‘Perhaps you could telephone a bit more during the week?’ I suggested. ‘Beth will be speaking to her father every evening and it will be nice for Adrian and Paula to speak to you.’

‘I’ll try, but it’s not always possible,’ John said. ‘Sometimes we don’t finish work until very late.’

‘I understand,’ I said. I hoped Adrian and Paula did too.

My thoughts returned to Beth and her father, as they had been doing on and off for most of the afternoon, and I now voiced my concerns to John. I needed his opinion.

‘I know you haven’t seen that much of Beth,’ I said thoughtfully, ‘but from what you have seen, do you get the impression that her relationship with her father is a little too intense? They obviously love each other, but is it too much?’ I didn’t know how else to phrase it.

John looked at me oddly. ‘No. Whatever makes you say that?’

‘Well, Beth talks about her father non-stop, and you’ve seen all those photographs in her room. She isn’t allowed to play with children outside of school, and her teacher said she thought their relationship could be stifling Beth’s social development. Then, this afternoon, when they were on the telephone, their conversation made me feel a bit uncomfortable.’ I stopped, unable to find the exact words I needed to express my instinct.