Читать книгу Daddy’s Little Princess and Will You Love Me 2-in-1 Collection - Cathy Glass, Cathy Glass - Страница 18

True to his promise, Adrian didn’t say a word when at six fifteen I answered the front door and Beth stepped in. I heard him gasp in amazement and then, clamping his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh, he ran upstairs to his room. Beth thankfully didn’t see, while Paula, standing beside me, stared at Beth open-mouthed.

‘You look like a lady,’ Paula said.

A lady of the night, I thought, for Beth’s lipstick had smudged and her mascara had run, creating black rings around her eyes.

‘Did you have a nice time?’ I asked Beth kindly as she began taking off her coat.

‘We played lots of games,’ she said. ‘There were some strange people there, but they were friendly. Daddy bought me two chocolate bars from the trolley that came round.’

I smiled. ‘Are you coming in?’ I asked Jessie, who was still standing in the porch. ‘I could make you a coffee.’

‘No, I must be getting home,’ Jessie said, although she didn’t immediately say goodbye or turn to leave.

‘Sure?’ I asked. ‘I could make it a quick coffee.’ I would also have liked some feedback on how the contact had gone.

‘No, thank you,’ Jessie said. She took a breath as though she was about to ask me something, but changed her mind.

‘Will Beth be visiting her father again soon?’ I asked. I thought that next time I would be better prepared in respect of her clothes and make-up.

‘Yes, I would think so, although it will depend on when Derek is discharged.’ Jessie hesitated again and then said: ‘I’ll telephone you when I have any details.’

‘And the evening went well?’ I asked.

‘They enjoyed themselves,’ she said.

Jessie threw me a quick smile, said goodbye and returned down the garden path. I closed the front door. I thought she seemed a bit preoccupied, but I didn’t give it any more thought. It was Friday – the end of the working week – and she was probably very tired.

Before I gave Beth her dinner I persuaded her to go to the bathroom and wash off her make-up. She did so, and without being asked also changed out of her dress and into her nightwear. She said she didn’t want to spoil her dress by dropping her dinner down it. Beth was very sensible when it came to such matters, more like a woman than a child. Once she’d finished eating, she asked me if it was time to phone her daddy. It was nearly seven o’clock, but I’d assumed that, having just seen her father, she wouldn’t telephone him again until the following evening.

‘Daddy wants me to phone,’ she added.

Jessie hadn’t said not to telephone, so at seven o’clock Beth, Paula and I went upstairs and into my bedroom where I dialled the hospital and then passed the telephone to Beth. Paula and I went into the bathroom where I bathed her as Beth talked to her father. Beth was still very excited from seeing him and chatted gaily about the games they’d played – snakes and ladders, draughts, cards and some games I wasn’t familiar with. I heard her tell him that she didn’t like the lady who’d kept making funny noises, but the men were friendly. I guessed that contact had taken place either on the ward or in a common room where other patients had been present. As with the previous evenings, when Beth had finished talking to her father she joined Paula for a bedtime story in her room. She was still in very good spirits. But later, when it was her bedtime, she grew sad.

‘I miss my daddy so much,’ she said, climbing into bed.

‘I know you do, love. But you can telephone him again tomorrow, and I’m sure he’ll be better before too long.’

‘I sat on his lap and gave him lots of cuddles,’ she said with a small wistful smile.

‘You both had a good time then,’ I said.

‘We did,’ Beth said. ‘Another man wanted me to sit on his lap, but Jessie said not to.’

‘Was Jessie with you and Daddy the whole time?’ I asked out of interest.

‘Yes, but she went to get a coffee. I wish I could stay with my daddy in hospital. His bed is big enough for two.’

I smiled. ‘I’m sure he’ll be well enough to go home soon,’ I reassured her again, and then I gave her a big hug. ‘You’re going to meet my parents on Sunday,’ I said, trying to divert her attention. ‘We’re going to visit them. They live in the country.’

Beth brightened up a little. ‘Is it a special occasion?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I suppose it is.’

‘I’ll wear my red dress then, with my lacy tights and high-heeled shoes.’

Oh dear, I thought. I walked right into that one. ‘You’ll need something a bit warmer and more practical,’ I said diplomatically. ‘We usually go to the park or for a walk in the woods when we visit. I’ll help you choose something to wear.’

‘OK,’ Beth said easily and snuggled down into the bed.

‘And Beth, love,’ I said, ‘I don’t want you wearing any make-up while you’re staying with me. I know your father doesn’t mind, but I don’t like it.’ I thought it best to deal with the matter now.

‘Why don’t you like it?’ Beth asked.

‘I don’t like make-up on children,’ I said. ‘I think children are beautiful enough already. They don’t need make-up.’

Beth considered this for a moment. ‘Will Paula wear make-up when she’s older?’

‘Not until she is much, much older – a teenager, and then only a little if she really wants to. Now, off to sleep, love,’ I said, adjusting the duvet. ‘You’ve had a busy day. You can have a lie-in tomorrow. It’s Saturday and there’s no school.’

Beth smiled. ‘Daddy and me have a lie-in at the weekends. We stay in bed and have big cuddles. Then he makes us breakfast and we have it in bed. Do you do that here?’

‘Not usually,’ I said, and serving the children breakfast in bed wasn’t something I wanted to start. ‘But when you go home I’m sure you’ll have breakfast in bed again.’

Beth nodded and, turning onto her side, slid the photograph of her father from beneath the pillow. She kissed it goodnight and then returned it to under her pillow. I tucked Mr Sleep Bear in beside her.

‘Sleep tight,’ I said, giving her a kiss.

‘I will.’ Beth smiled.

I came out, leaving Beth’s bedroom door slightly ajar, as she liked it. I checked on Adrian and Paula who, also tired at the end of the week, were sound asleep. I went downstairs, made myself a cup of tea and then sat in the living room. The house seemed very quiet – uncannily quiet for a Friday evening. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent one alone. John was usually home by now and we always had plenty to talk about, especially if he’d been working away. Sometimes we opened a bottle of wine and enjoyed a glass each as we sat chatting and exchanging our news. Now it was just Toscha and me, and I suddenly felt very alone. As if sensing my feelings, Toscha jumped down from where she was curled on her favourite chair and onto my lap. I stroked her soft fur as she circled, before settling into a ball and purring gently.

I stroked her and sipped my tea and wondered what John was doing. I guessed he’d probably finished another working dinner by now and had returned to his hotel room and might be watching television. I thought he was probably feeling lonely too and that he might telephone. John didn’t like living in hotels. He’d said more than once that hotels were great for holidays, but quickly lost their appeal if you were incarcerated in them every evening after work. I knew he would have come home if it had been at all possible. I also worried that he was working too hard. At home he could relax and unwind over the weekend so that he could start the new week refreshed. Now he would lurch from one working week into the next. Poor John, I thought, alone in his hotel room and wishing he was at home with me, just as I was wishing he was sitting beside me on the sofa. I considered opening a bottle of wine, but decided it wouldn’t be the same without John.

Typical of many young children, having been given the opportunity of a lie-in, on Saturday morning Adrian, Paula and Beth were awake even earlier than on a school day. Wanting to make the most of every minute of the weekend, they were all out of their beds and playing by seven o’clock. They stayed in their dressing gowns, playing in their bedrooms, while I showered and dressed. Then I made us all a cooked breakfast. As we sat at the table enjoying eggs, bacon, sausage and tomatoes, Beth told Adrian and Paula that she had a cooked breakfast at the weekends too, and that her daddy brought it to her in bed.

‘You have breakfast in bed every weekend?’ Adrian asked.

Beth nodded.

‘Don’t you go getting any ideas,’ I said to Adrian with a smile. ‘The only time you have breakfast in bed is on your birthday or if you’re ill.’

‘Not keen anyway,’ he said, pulling a face. ‘All those toast crumbs, it’s like sand in the bed.’

I laughed.

‘My daddy brings my breakfast on a tray,’ Beth said, ‘so I don’t get crumbs in the bed. And if I spill my juice, he doesn’t mind, he just changes the sheets.’

Derek was clearly a very indulgent and tolerant father, although I wasn’t sure it was right to spoil a child so much; she could grow up to be self-centred and expecting to be pampered all the time. I supposed it was different if you just had one child. If you had more than one then you treated them all the same and time simply didn’t allow for pampering them all to the extent that Beth’s father pampered her.

The morning was cold again but bright, so after breakfast I suggested that once they were dressed we could go to the park for a while. The children were enthusiastic and helped clear away the breakfast things, and then we went upstairs to get ready. I intended to choose something appropriate for Beth to wear. Adrian lived in joggers or jeans at the weekend and knew what to wear. Paula came with me into Beth’s room, where I opened her wardrobe door and took out two tracksuits that I remembered unpacking, but which she’d never worn.

‘Can’t I wear a dress?’ Beth asked.

‘They’re not really practical for playing in the park on a cold day,’ I said. ‘These are perfect, and they look brand new.’

‘They are,’ Beth said. ‘I haven’t worn them.’

‘They’re both lovely. Which one would you like to wear today?’ I asked. ‘The blue or pink?’ I held up the tracksuits and Beth looked from one to the other.

‘The pink one,’ she said at last.

‘Excellent choice,’ I said. ‘And you can wear the blue one when we visit my parents tomorrow.’ Which neatly solved that problem too.

I took out warm socks and a vest for Beth as she took some pants from her drawer. All Beth’s clothes were in very good condition and many of them seemed brand new. I thought that Derek must spend a lot on clothes for Beth, perhaps indulging her wishes in this as he did in other things. I left Beth to get ready and went with Paula to help her wash and dress. Half an hour later we were all downstairs and in the hall, wrapped up warm in our coats, scarves and gloves, ready to go to the park. Adrian was bringing his football and I’d asked Beth if she wanted to take a ball or skipping rope or a scooter to the park, but she didn’t. She added that she didn’t often go to the park as parks were for children. I didn’t state the obvious and I was pleased Adrian didn’t either.

Outside the weather was crisp and cold and quite beautiful. The wintry sun shone from a clear blue sky, causing the remaining frost to sparkle like magic. We walked to our local park where Beth and Adrian ran off to the play equipment – swings, seesaw, roundabout – while I took Paula to the area for younger children and helped her on and off the little rocking horse and then the baby swings, which she loved, although I wasn’t allowed to call them ‘baby swings’. ‘They’re big-girl swings,’ she said indignantly. ‘Just smaller.’ Which is what I’d told her before.

We were in the park for over an hour. I’d taken my camera with me and I took plenty of photographs of the children playing. When my hands and feet grew cold and the children’s noses glowed red, I suggested we return home for a hot chocolate. The children asked for one last swing and then we left.

As we stepped into the hall I saw that the light on the answerphone was flashing, showing a message had been recorded. I pressed play and John’s voice came through. The children paused from taking off their coats. ‘Hi, kids, sorry I missed you. I expect you’re out shopping with your mother. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. I’ll try to telephone during the week. Be good. See you next weekend. Love Dad.’

The line went dead and the answerphone clicked off. I could tell from Adrian’s and Paula’s expressions that they were pleased to hear their father’s voice, but sad that they’d missed his call. ‘Perhaps he’ll telephone again later today,’ Adrian said hopefully.

‘Perhaps, or next week as he said,’ I suggested.

We finished taking off our coats and shoes and I made us a hot chocolate. Then, after lunch, I covered the table with old newspaper and arranged paints and water in the centre. I gave the children an apron, paintbrush and a stack of plain paper each and they painted lots of wonderful pictures: of cats, dogs, themselves, each other, birds, fish and swirling geometric designs. Eventually we ran out of space to dry any more pictures and we cleared away the paints and got out the play dough. When they tired of modelling the dough they helped me make some biscuits to take with us to Nana and Grandpa’s the following day. We had dinner and then watched a film on television. When Beth telephoned her father that evening she told him about all the things she’d done. I thought he must be relieved and pleased that Beth was enjoying herself and not upset and pining for him. I also thought it was a pity I couldn’t talk to Derek, as I usually did with the parents of children I fostered. I could have reassured him that Beth was doing well and he shouldn’t worry. But after I’d upset him with the unfounded allegations, Jessie had said that I shouldn’t speak to him, and I had to accept that.

Sunday was grey and overcast to begin with. A thick blanket of cloud stretched as far as the eye could see, but as I drove to my parents’ (with Beth uncomplaining in her blue tracksuit), the sun came out, which caused Adrian to burst into song:

The sun has got his hat on,

Hip-hip-hip-hooray!

The sun has got his hat on,

He’s coming out today.

‘That’s Grandpa’s song,’ Paula said.

‘Grandpa sings it, yes,’ I said. ‘And you know the words too.’

‘So do I!’ Beth said and began singing.

All three children sang the chorus about six times. None of us knew any more of the verses; I don’t think my father did either.

‘I know other nursery rhymes,’ Paula said when they’d exhausted this one. She began singing, ‘Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?’

Beth joined in and when they’d finished Adrian began a rousing chorus of ‘The Grand Old Duke of York’, which we all joined in with, laughing. We headed down the motorway singing and laughing and only stopped as I pulled into the driveway of my parents’ house. My parents must have been looking out for us, for as I cut the engine their front door opened and they came out to greet us. I let the children out of the car and then introduced Beth to Mum and Dad.

‘Hello, love,’ Mum said, welcoming her. She hugged and kissed us all, while Dad hugged and kissed Paula and me and then shook hands with Adrian and Beth. My parents have a gift for making new children feel at home.

Once inside we presented Mum with the biscuits and then I went with her into the kitchen to help make coffee for the adults and pour juice for the children, while everyone else went into the sitting room. We set the drinks and a plate of the biscuits on a tray and I carried it into the sitting room. Mum told everyone to help themselves. Paula had already found a place on Grandpa’s lap and was looking very comfortable. Beth and Adrian sat in easy chairs to have their drinks and biscuits, and when they’d finished Adrian showed Beth the toy box, which had been Mum’s idea so that I didn’t have to keep packing bags of toys to bring with us to keep the children amused. She’d added to it over the years, so there were toys for boys and girls of most ages. The two of them began doing a jigsaw puzzle together, while Paula stayed snuggled on her grandpa’s lap. Mum and I sat together on the sofa and chatted as delicious smells drifted in from the kitchen.

‘Dinner won’t be long,’ she said. ‘Grandpa and I thought you might like to go for a walk after we’ve eaten.’

‘Can we go to the dark woods?’ Adrian asked eagerly, glancing up from the puzzle.

‘Yes, if you’d like to,’ Mum said.

‘I would!’ my father put in.

Adrian grinned. ‘The woods are very spooky,’ he told Beth. ‘And they’re very dark – that’s why I call them the dark woods. You can hide and jump out at people. They are full of scary monsters.’

‘I don’t like the woods,’ Paula said, snuggling closer to Grandpa.

‘We’ll stay together,’ my father reassured her. ‘You can hold my hand, like you did last time. There aren’t any monsters.’

Once we’d eaten – a full roast with all the trimmings – my father suggested we went for our walk while the sun was out and then return for pudding later. We all helped clear away the dirty dishes, and then put on our coats and shoes.

The Great Woods, as they are really called, are about three miles from my parents’ house and too far for the children to walk, so we took both cars. We parked in the small visitors’ car park; there were only two other cars. The Great Woods are more popular in summer and some visitors take picnics. My father opened the wooden gate that led to the track that ran through and around the woods. The woods are very atmospheric or, as Adrian said, ‘spooky’, because of the hundreds of very tall pine trees growing close together. Not much light comes through the branches, even in summer, and now in winter it was very dark in places. The density of the trees also magnifies the slightest sound in an otherwise eerily quiet wood, so that a twig crunching or bracken snapping makes you jump. It was easy to see how some of the locals believed The Great Woods were haunted.

‘Remember, you must be able to see us at all times,’ I called as Adrian and Beth ran ahead. This was a rule I’d started after one of our visits when Adrian had become too adventurous and had got lost for a couple of minutes. I think it had scared him as much as it had us, so I knew he would do as I’d asked, and Beth was keeping very close to him.

The rest of us followed in the direction Adrian and Beth had gone – along the single track flanked by trees and bracken. Every so often they’d disappear from view and then spring out from their hiding place, making grizzly noises to scare us. Dad always warned Paula when we were about to be scared, so that when they did spring out she wasn’t too frightened; indeed, she often laughed. It was great fun. The track took about forty-five minutes to walk and then we returned to my parents’ house and enjoyed Mum’s wonderful homemade apple crumble with lashings of custard. As Beth had to telephone her father at seven, we left at six. My parents stood on the doorstep, waving and blowing kisses until we were out of sight.

‘They’re very nice people,’ Beth said. ‘I’ve had a lovely day.’

‘Good, love. I’m pleased,’ I said. ‘We’ve all enjoyed ourselves.’

The children were quiet on the way home, exhausted from their day out. That evening when Beth spoke to her father I heard her telling him all about the great time she’d had at Nana and Grandpa’s, including a description of our walk in the scary woods. Beth then asked her father why she didn’t have a Nana and Grandpa. I couldn’t hear Derek’s reply as I was in the bathroom helping Paula, but I knew from Jessie that Derek’s father was in a care home and that he had no contact with his ex-wife’s family.

That evening, once all the children were tucked up in bed and asleep, I sat in the living room with a cup of tea feeling a lot more positive than I had the evening before. Although John hadn’t been able to come home for the weekend, we’d made the best of it. The children had enjoyed themselves and hadn’t missed their fathers too much, and I’d enjoyed the time I’d spent with them and the day at my parents’. In the weeks that followed, I came to view that weekend as a small oasis of calm before the storm hit and life changed irrevocably for us all, forever.