Daddy’s Little Princess. Cathy Glass
Beth’s clothes away and then came out of her room.
By the time I left for school Jessie hadn’t returned my telephone call, so I telephoned again at five o’clock. A colleague said that Jessie had been delayed and she wasn’t expected to return to the office that day. She said she’d leave a message for her to telephone me first thing in the morning.
When I told Beth that Marianne had brought her swimming costume, she pulled a face.
‘I thought it was nice of Marianne to go out of her way to help us,’ I said to Beth. ‘It saved me a trip into town.’
‘I’d rather have a new costume,’ Beth grumbled. ‘Daddy would have bought me a new one.’
‘Really?’ I said lightly, ignoring her ill humour. I continued with the preparations for dinner.
Beth was soon over her grumpiness and was excited by the prospect of telephoning her daddy at seven o’clock, and every evening. Over dinner she talked about little else. I watched her closely as we ate. With Marianne’s words still fresh in my mind, everything Beth said about her father and her mannerisms when she spoke of him took on a more sinister tone. Daddy kisses my feet and it makes me laugh, Beth declared, giggling. Daddy likes brushing my hair at bedtime until it shines. Daddy and me go to bed at the same time and he cuddles up to me. Even I’m Daddy’s little princess now had an uncomfortable ring to it. Yet Beth clearly loved her father as he did her. Their relationship, as Marianne had said, was confusing, and the concerns were difficult to identify and put into words.
As seven o’clock approached I steeled myself to make the telephone call to Derek, for I really didn’t want to talk to him. Beth had been reminding me for the last hour that it was nearly time to telephone her daddy. Adrian was in the living room reading, and seven o’clock was usually the time I started Paula’s bath and bedtime routine. That night, however, I bathed Paula early and then put her into bed with some toys and told her I’d read her a story after Beth had telephoned her father.
‘I understand, Mummy,’ she said sweetly.
‘Good girl.’
Beth was already in my bedroom, sprawled out on the bed and waiting for me to make the call. I sat on the edge of the bed, hoping against hope that Derek wouldn’t be able to come to the phone. I dialled the hospital and was put through to the ward. True to his word, Derek was ready and waiting and came to the telephone as soon as the nurse called him.
‘Hello, Cathy,’ he said brightly. ‘How are you?’ Ridiculously, I was surprised that his voice sounded normal.
‘Good evening, Derek,’ I said evenly. ‘I’ll put Beth on.’
‘Before you do, can I have a quick word please?’
‘Yes?’
‘I just wanted to know if Beth was all right. You know, eating and sleeping well. She sounds all right on the phone, but obviously it’s very worrying for me not to be with her.’
‘I appreciate that,’ I said. ‘Beth is fine.’ And I passed the telephone to her.
Impolite of me, yes, but my thoughts were in turmoil.
I sat on the edge of the bed as Beth talked to her father. They began by asking each other how they were and what they’d been doing. They said how much they were missing each other and blew kisses down the phone, which took on a new significance given what I now knew. Derek then began talking in a silly high-pitched voice to make Beth laugh, and they both giggled like children.
‘Oh Daddy, you’re teasing me again. Stop it.’ Beth laughed.
More silly voices followed and then Derek asked Beth what she was wearing and she lowered her voice and fluttered her eyelids as she told him she’d changed out of her school uniform and into her blue dress with the bow, to please him – in a manner almost as if she were flirting. Then she said: ‘Oh Daddy, I miss you and your warm cuddles so much.’
‘I miss you too, princess,’ Derek said. ‘I miss holding you in my arms so very much. I can’t wait until I’m home and can tuck you up in bed beside me again.’ Which, in the light of what I now suspected, made me shudder.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could listen to all of this; they’d been on the telephone for nearly half an hour. Then Paula, who’d been waiting patiently in her bed, called out: ‘Mummy, is it time for a story yet?’
‘Yes, love,’ I called back. ‘I’ll be with you soon.’
I waited while Derek finished telling Beth that he hoped he’d be home soon, and then I said to Beth: ‘You need to say goodbye now.’
She looked at me, surprised.
‘I’ll explain,’ I said, easing the telephone from her. ‘Sorry,’ I said to Derek. ‘Can you say goodbye now, please? I need to end the call as my daughter is calling for me.’
‘Can’t you leave Beth to talk to me while you see to your daughter?’ Derek asked.
Something told me I shouldn’t leave Beth alone with her father, not even on the telephone. ‘It’s difficult,’ I said to Derek. ‘Beth is in my bedroom and my daughter is in her room.’
‘Oh, OK,’ he said reasonably. ‘Can I say goodbye to Beth?’
‘Yes, of course.’
I passed the telephone to Beth, who was glaring at me.
‘Why is she telling you to go?’ she asked her father. ‘I can speak to you if I want.’
‘You’d better do as she says as you’re in her house,’ Derek said.
And just for a moment I caught a glimpse of the ‘them and us’ situation Marianne had described, only now it was the two of them against me.
‘And you’ll telephone tomorrow?’ Derek asked Beth.
‘Of course I will, Daddy. I love you.’
There now followed a series of ‘byes’, ‘miss yous’ and ‘love yous’, with kisses blown in between, which seemed never-ending, so eventually I said, ‘Bye, Derek,’ loud enough for him to hear. Taking the telephone from Beth, I returned it to its cradle.
‘You can’t do that!’ Beth said, rounding on me.
I looked at her, startled by her vehemence.
‘It’s nearly your bedtime,’ I said.
‘Not for much longer,’ she grumbled, showing a different side to her. ‘My daddy said he’ll be home soon, and then I can go to bed whenever I want.’
I find that most negative or provocative comments are best ignored, so I set my face to a cheerful smile and asked Beth if she would like a drink before she started getting ready for bed. She didn’t. She stomped round to her room and closed her bedroom door with a bang. I gave her time to cool down while I read Paula a story, and then, having said goodnight to Paula, I went to Beth’s room and knocked on the door. I went in and told her it was time to have a wash and clean her teeth. She was calm now and clearly a little uncertain of me, possibly because, unlike her daddy, I hadn’t done exactly as she had wanted. When Beth was ready for bed, I went into her room to say goodnight.
‘Can I telephone my daddy tomorrow, please?’ she asked politely.
‘I’m not sure yet, love,’ I said, honestly. ‘I’ll need to speak to your social worker first. Jessie said we were to telephone over the weekend, that was all, so I’ll have to check if it’s OK to phone every evening too.’ In truth I thought that Jessie would stop telephone contact in the light of what I was going to tell her.
Beth accepted this and then asked for a hug and kiss goodnight, which I gave her. With a smile, she turned onto her side and, slipping her hand under the pillow, retrieved the photograph of her and her father on the beach. She gave his image a big kiss through the glass and then tucked the photograph under the pillow again.