Daddy’s Little Princess. Cathy Glass

Daddy’s Little Princess - Cathy  Glass


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to the truth. I wouldn’t normally explain sedation to a child Beth’s age unless it was absolutely essential, as it would be upsetting for them.

      I continued to worry about the distress I’d caused Derek by unjustly accusing him for the rest of the day. I was looking forward to the weekend, when John would be home and I could share my worries with him, for, as the saying goes, a problem shared is a problem halved. Just as we’d finished eating dinner, the telephone rang. I left the table and answered it in the living room. I was very pleased to hear John’s voice.

      ‘Hello, love. What a lovely surprise!’ I said. ‘Adrian and Paula will be so pleased you phoned. I’ll call them now. And when you’ve finished talking to them I’d like a chat too. Adrian! Paula!’ I called from the living room. ‘Dad’s on the phone.’

      They came running and jumped onto the sofa and sat side by side. I handed the telephone to Adrian. ‘You speak to Dad first and then pass the phone to Paula,’ I said to Adrian. He nodded.

      ‘Hi, Dad!’ Adrian began with a broad grin. I could see how delighted he was that his father had made the time to call. Paula was grinning too.

      I left Adrian and Paula to talk to their father and I returned to Beth, who was still sitting at the dining table, although she’d finished eating.

      ‘When can I telephone my daddy?’ she asked pensively.

      ‘At seven o’clock, love. In forty-five minutes,’ I said, glancing at the wall clock. ‘Not long now.’

      ‘Their daddy doesn’t telephone much, does he?’ Beth said.

      ‘No, so I’m very pleased he’s found the time to telephone now.’

      ‘Why doesn’t he phone them much?’ Beth asked. ‘Doesn’t he want to speak to them?’

      ‘That’s not the reason,’ I said, taken aback that Beth should think this. ‘Their daddy is very busy at work. He phones when he can, and please don’t say that to Adrian and Paula. They miss him enough already.’

      ‘I miss my daddy too,’ Beth said. ‘Can I speak to their daddy?’

      I hesitated. This was a small chance for Adrian and Paula to speak to their father, yet I didn’t want to say no. ‘When they’ve finished you can say a quick hello,’ I said, ‘but not for too long. You don’t want to be late phoning your daddy, do you?’

      ‘No,’ Beth agreed. I awarded myself full marks for tact and diplomacy.

      We could hear Adrian’s voice floating through from the living room as Beth helped me clear the dishes. Adrian was answering his father’s questions about school and then football club. Then, a little while later, I heard Paula’s voice: ‘Hello, Daddy. I’ve been playing at Kay’s house today, with Vicky.’ She began telling him her news. Then I could hear the two of them chatting, presumably holding the telephone between them, and then Adrian called: ‘Mum! Dad wants to speak to you. He has to go soon.’

      Beth came with me into the living room and Adrian handed me the phone. ‘Hi, love,’ I said to John. ‘Beth would like to say a quick hello, if you have the time?’

      ‘Sure. Put her on.’

      I passed the telephone to Beth and, smiling, she said, ‘Hi, I’m going to speak to my daddy soon. It’s been nice talking to you. Goodbye.’ Satisfied, she returned the telephone to me.

      ‘How’s work?’ I now asked John. ‘Still very busy?’

      ‘Absolutely. But managing to keep on top of it.’

      ‘Good. I’m so pleased you found the time to phone and speak to the children. I wanted to discuss something with you, but if you’re in a hurry it can wait.’

      ‘Is it urgent?’ John asked. ‘I haven’t eaten yet.’

      ‘No. You go for your dinner. It can wait until the weekend.’

      There was a short pause before John said, ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it home this weekend. Sorry, but it’s unavoidable.’

      ‘Oh,’ I said, taken aback and very disappointed. John always came home at the weekends unless he was working abroad, which wasn’t often. ‘Oh, I see. Why?’ I asked. The children were watching me, aware something was wrong.

      ‘Inundated with work, I’m afraid,’ John said.

      ‘And you can’t bring the work home with you?’ I suggested. Which he had done before.

      ‘No, not this time, I’m afraid. I’m needed on site.’

      ‘I see,’ I said again. ‘Will you be able to phone over the weekend? We’ll all miss you.’

      ‘I’ll try,’ John said. I heard a noise in the background, as though someone might be in the room, then John said, ‘I have to go. They’re waiting for me to go to dinner. It’s another working meal, I’m afraid.’

      ‘Oh dear, I am sorry,’ I sympathized. ‘I hope it doesn’t run on too late. Do try and find some time to relax over the weekend or you’ll be exhausted.’

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