Читать книгу Daddy’s Little Princess and Will You Love Me 2-in-1 Collection - Cathy Glass, Cathy Glass - Страница 16

Paula and I went to Kay’s house as arranged at eleven o’clock and the two girls played while Kay and I talked over coffee. Kay soon realized I was preoccupied and it wasn’t long before she asked: ‘Is everything all right, Cathy? You don’t seem your usual chatty self.’

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I have a problem connected with the fostering. I made an error of judgement and caused someone a lot of upset.’ Kay knew that confidentiality forbade me from discussing the details, as did my other friends and family.

‘I’m sure you didn’t mean to,’ Kay said. ‘I know how much fostering means to you, and how much you love it. All that time you invest in it. Anyone can make a mistake.’

‘Thank you.’ I smiled weakly. ‘Unfortunately this was rather a large mistake and I’ve hurt someone a lot.’

We stayed for just over an hour and then Kay offered to make us some lunch, but I politely refused, saying I had things to do. In fact, I felt I was such poor company that it would be better for her if we went. ‘Another time would be good,’ I said. ‘Or you could come to us. We can arrange something next week.’

‘That’d be lovely,’ Kay said. ‘Try not to worry.’

‘Thank you.’

We said goodbye, and I went home – to brood.

That afternoon, when Beth came out of school, she asked if I’d spoken to Jessie and if she could telephone her father.

‘Yes, you can,’ I said with a smile. I’d assumed that Jessie would have telephoned me by now if the call wasn’t going ahead. ‘Also, Jessie is going to take you to see your daddy after school on Friday.’

Beth’s face lit up. ‘Fantastic! I’m going to see my daddy. What was the matter with him last night?’

‘He was asleep, like the nurse said,’ I replied, which was close 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.’

John gave a small snort of laughter. ‘Say goodbye to the kids for me. Bye, Cathy.’

‘Bye. Love you.’

‘And you.’

The line went dead and I replaced the receiver. The children were still looking at me and I tried to hide my disappointment.

‘Dad’s not coming home, is he?’ Adrian said a little crossly.

‘No. I’m afraid he can’t make it this weekend. He has to work,’ I said.

‘He’s always working,’ Adrian said, cross and sad. ‘Doesn’t he want to come home and see us?’

‘Of course he does, Adrian. You know that. Your dad has a lot of responsibility and sometimes he has to work away. Of course he comes home whenever he can.’

‘I’m seeing my daddy on Friday,’ Beth put in, which didn’t help at all.

‘I’m going to my room!’ Adrian said. Jumping up from the sofa, he fled the room and ran upstairs, close to tears.

‘Beth, I’d like you to stay here and look after Paula for a moment, please,’ I said. ‘I won’t be long.’

Beth took Paula’s hand. Their expressions were serious.

‘Play a game or something,’ I called as I left the living room.

Upstairs, Adrian’s bedroom door was shut so I gave a brief knock and went in. Adrian was sitting on the floor, cross-legged and staring down. I went over, sat beside him and took his hand in mine.

‘Adrian, love,’ I began gently. ‘I know how much you miss your dad. I miss him too, so does Paula. Your daddy loves you very much and I know he would come home if it was at all possible.’

‘Why does he have to work away?’ Adrian asked sadly, glancing up at me. ‘Why can’t he come home at night like he used to? Like other fathers do.’

‘Do you remember I explained he was given a promotion at work?’ I asked gently. ‘He was pleased, because it showed he was doing a good job. It means he earns more money to look after us, but it also means he has to work away sometimes.’

‘I’d rather he came home more and had less money,’ Adrian said.

My heart went out to him. So would I, I thought, but I didn’t say so. John was very career orientated and I had to respect that. He believed he’d made the right decision in accepting the promotion, and I supported him in it and would never undermine his decision by voicing my concerns.

‘Dad shouldn’t have to work away for too much longer,’ I added.

‘How long?’ Adrian asked.

‘If all goes well, he thought about six months,’ I said. ‘Which will mean he’ll be home for the summer. You’ll be able to play cricket and football with him in the evenings and at weekends like you used to.’

Adrian cheered up a little at this thought and managed a small nod.

‘OK, love?’ I asked.

‘I guess.’

‘Now, I can’t really leave Paula any longer, and Beth needs to telephone her father, so can we continue our chat a little later?’

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Thank you. And believe me, I do know how much you miss your dad, but it shouldn’t be for much longer.’

Adrian smiled and I kissed his forehead. ‘You’re not too old for hugs and kisses from your mum, are you?’ I said.

Adrian laughed, aware of what was to come. He covered his head with his hands as I took him in my arms and began kissing him all over his face, head and neck, as I used to when he was little. He laughed and giggled and made ‘ugh’ noises, and jokingly tried to push me off. ‘Ahh, help!’ he cried. ‘Someone save me!’

With a final shower of kisses and a big hug, I released him and stood. Still laughing, he wiped the sleeve of his jersey over his face as though wiping off the kisses, as boys of his age often do.

‘I’ll be back as soon as I’ve seen to the girls,’ I said, also laughing.

I went downstairs to Beth and Paula, who were still in the living room, now sitting on the sofa next to each other with Beth – bless her – reading Paula a story. ‘Thank you, love,’ I said to Beth.

‘Is it time to telephone my daddy?’ Beth asked, closing the book.

‘Yes. Come on.’

Indeed, it was one minute to seven and I daren’t be late phoning Derek after all the upset I’d caused him. However, Paula wasn’t washed and ready for bed yet, and that would take at least fifteen minutes. It then occurred to me that, as I wasn’t allowed to speak to Derek – just to make the call – and there was no reason why Derek and Beth shouldn’t be left alone, once Derek was on the phone I could leave Beth talking to him while I got Paula ready for bed.

Beth was already skipping up the stairs in eager anticipation of telephoning her father. Paula and I followed, counting the steps as we went. The three of us went into my bedroom, where Beth propped herself on the bed.

‘Is she staying?’ Beth asked me, referring to Paula.

‘Just until I’ve got your father on the phone,’ I said.

I dialled the number of the hospital and asked for Ward 3. When I was put through to the ward, I asked for Derek. The nurse called him and he came to the telephone straight away. ‘Hello,’ he said, sounding slightly subdued.

Without speaking, I passed the telephone to Beth. ‘Hi, Daddy!’ Beth cried, grinning. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m fine now,’ I heard Derek say, perking up.

‘Come on, love,’ I said to Paula. ‘Bath and bedtime.’

Leaving my bedroom door open so that I could hear Beth if she needed me, I took Paula into the bathroom, which was next door, and left that door slightly open too. As Beth spoke to her father, I ran Paula’s bath, dropped in her plastic bath toys and then helped her undress and clamber in. I could hear Beth talking, but not her father’s replies – I was too far away. They’d begun by saying how fantastic it was that they would be seeing each other on Friday, and Beth had asked him what games they could play in the hospital and how long she could stay.

Paula played with her toys in her bath and Adrian played in his room as I washed Paula. Beth’s words floated in. They’d finished talking about her visit on Friday, and Beth was now telling her father what she was wearing. As usual, she’d changed out of her school uniform and into a dress as soon as we’d arrived home. She’d spent a considerable amount of time trying to decide which dress to wear.

‘It’s the lilac dress with little flowers on,’ she said. ‘The one with the lacy petticoat.’

Beth was then silent as Derek replied. Beth laughed and then said, ‘Yes, I’ve brushed my hair. It’s all shiny, but not as nice as when you do it. Will you brush my hair on Friday?’

Derek replied and Beth giggled. ‘Of course I’ve got clean knickers on,’ she exclaimed. ‘Daddy, you are funny.’

Beth fell silent again for some time as Derek spoke, and then Beth cried, ‘Yippee! I’ve wanted my ears pierced for ages. Can we buy those studs with the little diamonds? We both liked those.’

Clearly Derek had agreed to Beth having her ears pierced. Personally I thought she was too young, although I knew that many girls of her age had their ears pierced, and some boys did too. As Beth’s father, it was Derek’s decision as to whether she was old enough for ear-piercing, and if I thought that the ensuing discussion they had about going to the jewellers and choosing the earrings sounded more like a couple choosing an engagement ring, I pushed the thought from my mind. I’d been wrong; I wasn’t going down that path again.

I finished bathing Paula and then helped her out of the bath while half listening to Beth. I wrapped Paula in a large, soft bath towel and while she began drying herself I let the water out of the bath and rinsed it out. I then helped Paula to dress in her clean pyjamas. Beth’s voice had grown serious now and sounded quite authoritative. ‘Tell the doctor I can look after you at home,’ she said. ‘You don’t need to stay in hospital. Or shall I tell him when I see him on Friday?’

Derek said something, which I guessed was probably no, for Beth then said: ‘OK. You tell the doctor. But make sure he knows I can look after you. It’s just you and me, and we’ll be fine. We don’t need help.’

Paula and I went round the landing to her bedroom where she chose some storybooks for me to read. I lay beside her on the bed and began reading the first picture book while Beth continued on the telephone. Paula’s bedroom was further away from my room than the bathroom was, so I couldn’t hear what Beth was saying. Only when she laughed or exclaimed loudly did I hear her clearly: ‘Oh Daddy! You are funny!’ or similar.

Two picture books later, Beth suddenly appeared at Paula’s bedroom door. ‘Daddy was tired, so we’ve said goodbye,’ she said, coming in.

‘I’m sure he’s very tired with all that talking.’ I smiled. ‘You’ve been on the telephone for quite a while.’

‘Can I share Paula’s story like I did last night?’ Beth asked.

‘Yes, or I could read you a story of your own later, when I’ve finished reading to Paula?’ I suggested.

‘I’d rather listen to Paula’s story,’ Beth said, clambering in beside Paula, who was making room for her. Then, suddenly remembering something, Beth exclaimed: ‘Oh dear! I forgot to tell my daddy I want him to read me bedtime stories when I go home.’

‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘You can tell him another time.’

‘I’ll tell my daddy when I see him on Friday,’ Beth declared.

‘My daddy isn’t coming home on Friday,’ Paula said, looking at me with big sad eyes.

‘No, but he will come home the next Friday,’ I said, and kissed her cheek.

I didn’t want Paula upset by Beth talking about seeing her father, so I quickly returned to the safety of the book: Wise Owl sat in his usual tree at the bottom of the garden. ‘What’s up, Mousey?’ Wise Owl asked, swooping down and landing silently beside him. ‘Your whiskers are drooping and your tail’s gone limp. There’s something bothering you.’

That evening at bedtime Beth was still very excited at the prospect of seeing her father on Friday – so excited, in fact, that she couldn’t get off to sleep. She was in bed, snuggled on her side, and had gone through the ritual of kissing the photograph of her father, which she’d returned to beneath the pillow. I’d given her Mr Sleep Bear to help and I was now perched on the edge of the bed lightly stroking her forehead until she fell asleep. In the light coming from the landing I could see the bookshelves containing the framed photographs of Beth and her father. I thought how strange it was that a person’s views could so easily be influenced and coloured by what they believed. I’d believed the photographs were inappropriate because I’d thought Derek’s relationship with Beth was inappropriate. I’d seen things in the pictures that weren’t there.

Or had I? Try as I might, as I ran my eyes over the pictures waiting for Beth to fall asleep, I couldn’t help but think that Beth seemed older in the photographs – more sophisticated and mature – than she did in person. Which added weight to Marianne’s comment that Beth and Derek were more like lovers than father and daughter. I turned away and concentrated on something else.