Daddy’s Little Princess. Cathy Glass
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.
John was still looking at me. ‘No, I don’t think there is anything wrong in Beth and her father loving each other,’ he said. ‘I’d hope that if I was in hospital Adrian and Paula would talk about me a lot. I think her teacher should concentrate on teaching rather than trying to cause trouble.’
Which surprised me, as John was usually more supportive when I aired my concerns, so I let the matter drop. I didn’t want any ill feeling. John would be leaving again in the morning.
Later I telephoned my parents as I usually did on a Sunday evening if I hadn’t seen them over the weekend. Then John left the living room to re-pack his suitcase ready for an early start the following morning. I put any thoughts of Beth and her father out of my mind. John’s comments had half convinced me there was nothing wrong. It was midnight before we were both in bed and when I woke it was to the sound of the front door closing as John let himself out. I looked at my bedside clock; it was 6.15 a.m. As I turned over I saw John had left a note on the pillow: Hope I didn’t disturb you. I’ll try to telephone the kids more. Have a good week. John x. I was pleased.
I stayed in bed for another quarter of an hour and then showered and dressed before waking the children ready for school. We fell into our weekday routine and Beth was downstairs first for breakfast, having washed and