Читать книгу Daddy’s Little Princess and Will You Love Me 2-in-1 Collection - Cathy Glass, Cathy Glass - Страница 19

On Monday morning I was standing in the playground with Paula waiting for school to start when Jenni’s mother approached me. I hadn’t got back to her about Beth going to her house for tea and I was rather hoping that the invitation had been forgotten. Beth hadn’t been asking to go – indeed, she hadn’t mentioned it at all – and given the upset I’d already caused Derek I was reluctant to ask him for permission and risk upsetting him further.

‘Hi. You remember me?’ Jenni’s mother asked with a smile.

‘Yes, of course,’ I said, returning her smile. ‘Beth often talks about Jenni and the games they’ve played during their lunch break.’ However, Beth also talked of other children, so I’d formed the impression that perhaps Jenni wasn’t the special friend her mother thought her to be, but more one of a group of friends. I was now anticipating another invitation for Beth to go to tea, but instead Jenni’s mother asked quite brusquely, ‘Is he still in hospital, then?’

‘Derek? Yes, he is at present. But he should be home soon.’

‘Aren’t they keeping him in?’ she now asked. I was starting to feel uncomfortable with the bluntness of her questions. Thankfully Beth and Jenni were standing to one side and talking to Paula, so I doubted they could hear.

‘He should be discharged soon,’ I confirmed, not wanting to get drawn into a discussion about Derek.

She raised her eyes upwards in exasperation. ‘It’s not right, is it?’ she said. ‘I mean, a man like him bringing up a girl alone. Bad enough before he went loopy, but now! Don’t you think something should be done about it? I do!’

As a foster carer I was used to deflecting personal questions about the children I fostered. I was also used to hearing derogatory comments, but never before had I heard something so blatantly prejudiced and cruel.

‘Done about it?’ I queried, trying to kerb the hostility in my tone. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

‘Well, he’s not all there, is he?’ Jenni’s mother said. ‘That’s why he’s been locked up. He shouldn’t be in charge of a child. It’s not right.’

I was quietly seething. ‘Derek certainly is “all there”,’ I said. ‘And by all accounts he’s done a very good job of raising his daughter alone. I doubt I would have coped as well.’

‘So why is he in the funny farm, then?’ Jenni’s mother persisted.

I thought there was nothing to be gained by continuing this conversation with someone expressing such bigoted views, and it wouldn’t be long before Beth and Jenni overheard. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said tightly. ‘I really can’t discuss Derek with you, but I think some sympathy wouldn’t go amiss. The poor man is in hospital.’

‘Exactly,’ Jenni’s mother said. ‘A mental hospital!’

I turned away and pretended to adjust the zipper on Paula’s coat as a displacement for what I really wanted to say. For a moment I thought she was going to say something else about Derek or mental illness – something probably just as disparaging as her previous comments – but instead she said to her daughter, ‘Come along, Jenni.’

‘But I want to stay and talk to Beth,’ Jenni moaned.

I kept my head down and concentrated on Paula’s zipper.

‘Do as you’re told,’ Jenni’s mother said firmly, and taking her daughter by the hand she led her away.

I straightened and watched her cross the playground to stand with another mother and her child. She immediately began talking animatedly to the other woman, gesticulating with her hands. I could tell from her body language she was annoyed and I could easily guess with whom. Shortly, both women looked over at me and I knew I was the subject of playground gossip just as Derek had been.

The klaxon sounded for the start of school and I said goodbye to Adrian and Beth. ‘Have a good day,’ I called after them.

They waved as they ran to join their classes.

I drove home, angry with Jenni’s mother and her heartless attitude. There is so much ignorance and prejudice surrounding mental illness; I hoped she didn’t express her venomous thoughts to her daughter, as it could affect her friendship with Beth.

My hope was short-lived.

That afternoon, when Beth came out of school, she was quieter than usual. I asked her a few times during the rest of the day if she was all right and she nodded and said she was. She perked up a bit to speak to her father but at seven o’clock, it was only at bedtime, when I asked Beth again if she was worrying about anything, that she said, ‘I don’t think I’m going to be friends with Jenni any more.’

‘Oh? Why is that?’ I asked.

‘She said some nasty things about my daddy. They upset me and I wanted to cry, but I didn’t.’

‘What sort of things?’ I asked gently. ‘Can you tell me?’

Beth was sitting up in bed and I perched on the edge, facing her, and took her hand.

‘Jenni said my daddy has something wrong in his head and he has been locked up,’ Beth said, her little face very sad. ‘Jenni said he shouldn’t be allowed to look after me because he’s a nutter.’

I knew where that had come from. You couldn’t blame Jenni. At her age she was just repeating what she’d heard at home. Beth’s eyes had filled and she was now looking at me for reassurance.

‘What Jenni said was very rude and also utter rubbish,’ I said forcefully. ‘You visited your daddy last Friday. You saw he was in a hospital, being made better. He wasn’t locked up, was he?’

Beth shook her head. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘I should have told Jenni that, but I was too upset. I just walked away.’

‘Sometimes children say things they don’t understand,’ I said. ‘I think that’s what Jenni did. But it was probably best you didn’t get into an argument and just walked away. That’s what I would have done.’

‘My daddy tells me not to argue,’ Beth said sadly.

‘He’s right,’ I said.

‘Will I be allowed to live with my daddy again?’ Beth now asked.

‘Yes, of course, love. As soon as he is well and has left hospital.’

Beth paused thoughtfully and then asked, ‘What is the matter with my daddy? I know he’s ill, but how is he ill? What’s the matter with him?’

Beth had asked her father this question on the telephone when she’d first arrived, and he’d told her that things had been getting on top of him, and then he’d burst into tears and had had to cut short the call. Jessie had never told me exactly what was wrong with Derek, but from what I knew I’d assumed he’d had a mental breakdown.

‘Sometimes adults can become very unhappy,’ I said to Beth. ‘It’s called depression. Things start to get on top of them, sometimes little things upset them, and they keep crying. So they go to the doctors or the hospital and the doctors make them well again.’

‘When I was at home my daddy kept crying,’ Beth said. ‘I tried to make him better, but it made him cry even more. Was it my fault he kept crying?’

‘No. Definitely not. It was part of his illness.’

‘He used to get very tired too,’ Beth said. ‘And sometimes he got angry and shouted at me for no reason. He never shouted before. Is that part of his illness?’

‘Yes, love, it would have been.’

‘And not sleeping?’ Beth now asked, clearly relieved at finally being able to discuss this. ‘Daddy used to come to bed with me and then get up when he thought I was asleep. I’d wait for him to come back to bed, but sometimes he didn’t so I’d go and look for him. He was sitting in a chair with his head in his hands, or sometimes he was just walking up and down. If I asked him what was the matter, he’d start crying again.’

I nodded and soothed her hand. The poor child had coped with so much, watching her father’s breakdown. Thank goodness, I thought, that Derek had sought help when he had and not left it any longer – for both their sakes.

‘Crying easily was part of your daddy’s illness,’ I said gently. ‘But the doctors are making him better. When you saw him last Friday he wasn’t crying, was he?’

‘No,’ Beth said, brightening a little. ‘He was laughing and joking and cuddling me like he used to.’

‘There you are!’ I said.

‘But why did Jenni say those horrible things if they aren’t true?’ Beth asked.

‘She didn’t understand what she was saying,’ I said. ‘I’m sure she didn’t mean to hurt you. Tomorrow I’ll come into school and see your teacher and ask her to explain to Jenni that what she said was upsetting.’ While I didn’t think Jenni was being intentionally malicious, the matter needed to be dealt with.

‘Oh no, please don’t do that!’ Beth cried, her eyes widening in alarm. ‘I don’t want you going into school and getting Jenni into trouble. I want us to be friends again.’

‘She won’t get into trouble,’ I said. I knew Miss Willow would handle the matter sensitively and tactfully. ‘Suppose Jenni says something else horrible? I don’t want you being upset and hurting.’

‘I’ll tell her not to be horrid,’ Beth persisted. ‘I can stand up for myself, but I don’t want you to go into school.’

I hesitated; my instinct was to go in, but I was swayed by the forcefulness of Beth’s request not to. ‘If you really don’t want me to, I won’t,’ I said. ‘But I want you to promise me that if Jenni says anything else that upsets you, you’ll tell me. I don’t want you worrying. I’m here to help you.’

Beth look relieved and finally smiled. ‘I promise I’ll tell you,’ she said. ‘But I’m sure it will be OK. Thank you for helping me. I wish I had a mummy like you.’

It’s the little comments that are totally unexpected that often take my breath away and make me well up. Beth’s comment about having a mummy like me did just that. I felt my eyes mist and a lump rise to my throat.

‘That was a lovely thing to say,’ I said.

‘It’s true,’ Beth said. ‘If I had you for a mummy I’d be so happy.’

And not for the first time I wondered why Beth hadn’t let Marianne be her mummy. From what I’d seen of Marianne I was sure she’d have made a very loving and caring stepmother. It was such a pity.

True to my word, I didn’t go into school to see Miss Willow on Tuesday morning, despite still feeling it was the proper course of action. However, on Tuesday evening I had reason to reverse my decision. I’d said goodnight to Beth, Paula was asleep and I went into Adrian’s room to say goodnight to him. He was sitting up in bed reading a book, as he often did last thing at night.

‘Time to switch off your light and go to sleep,’ I said.

He closed his book and looked at me seriously. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘But first I need to tell you something.’ Adrian didn’t share his worries easily and often internalized them, so I knew whatever he wanted to say must be important and worrying him considerably.

I sat on the edge of his bed and looked at him. ‘Yes, love? What is it?’ I was thinking it was probably about missing his father, but what he said gave me even greater cause for concern.

‘Mum, I think you need to know that some of the kids at school are saying things about Beth’s father.’

My heart sank. ‘What sort of things?’

‘They’re saying her dad is a head case and calling him a nutter. That he’s barmy and has been locked up.’

‘Who said this?’

‘I don’t know which kids, but you know Oliver in my class?’ I nodded. ‘His sister is in Beth’s class and she told him that some of the kids in her class are saying these things and calling Beth’s dad names.’

I felt a mixture of anger and deep sadness and regretted not going into school that morning. ‘Thank you for telling me, love,’ I said. ‘I’ll go in and see Miss Willow first thing in the morning. She’ll know how to deal with it. Did Oliver tell you anything else?’

Adrian shook his head. ‘Not really. Only that they were saying these things behind Beth’s back.’

‘What did you say to Oliver?’

‘I told him Beth was staying with us while her dad was in hospital.’

‘Good. That was a sensible reply.’

‘I feel sorry for Beth,’ Adrian added, looking sad. ‘I wouldn’t like it if kids said things about my dad behind my back.’

‘No,’ I agreed. ‘And the things they were saying were very hurtful, but please don’t worry. You did the right thing in telling me and I’ll deal with it tomorrow.’

Reassured, Adrian turned off his light, ready to sleep.

The following morning when I woke Beth I told her I’d decided I would go into school and have a quick chat with her teacher before school started. I thought it was better she knew.

‘But Jenni hasn’t said any more nasty things,’ Beth protested, immediately guessing why I wanted to speak to Miss Willow.

‘I know, but I feel I should speak to your teacher anyway. I won’t mention Jenni by name. I’ll just say a child in the class.’ I thought that Beth was probably unaware that other children, apart from Jenni, were calling her father names, as Adrian had said it was going on behind Beth’s back. I wasn’t about to tell her and upset her further.

Beth pouted as though she was going to cry. ‘Beth, love,’ I said. ‘Sometimes adults know what is best for children and have to make decisions for them that they don’t fully understand. I’m sure your daddy would want me to go into school and speak to your teacher if I was worried about you.’

At the mention of her father being in agreement, Beth looked at me thoughtfully and then gave a small, reluctant nod. ‘All right, but please don’t tell on Jenni.’

‘I won’t,’ I said.

Once in the school playground I left Beth and Adrian playing with their friends while I took Paula into school with me. I’d told Beth and Adrian that if the klaxon sounded while I was in school then they should go in with their classes as they normally did. I was feeling slightly nervous and apprehensive about approaching Miss Willow and kept running through what I wanted to say. The school secretary-cum-receptionist was in the office and said good morning. I asked her if it was possible for me to speak with Miss Willow and she glanced at the wall clock.

‘Just a quick word,’ I added.

‘I should think so,’ she said. ‘She’s usually in her classroom at this time. Go on up. You know where it is.’

‘Thank you.’

I took Paula’s hand and headed for the staircase to the first floor, aware that parents (and carers) were asked to make appointments to see teachers rather than just turning up, but I hadn’t wanted to leave this any longer. I hoped Miss Willow would understand. On the landing I saw the door to Miss Willow’s classroom was open and as we approached I could see her standing at the front of the room writing on a wall chart. She looked up. ‘Hello. How are you both?’ she said, slightly surprised. ‘Have you come to see me?’

‘Yes, please, if you can spare five minutes.’

‘Certainly. Come in.’

She put down the marker pen she’d been using to write on the chart and drew out three children’s chairs from under the front table. We sat down.

‘I won’t keep you long,’ I said. ‘I know how busy you must be, but I need to talk to you about something quite urgent.’ Her face immediately grew serious. ‘I thought you should know that some of the children in the class have been calling Beth’s father names.’

‘What!’ Miss Willow said, horrified. ‘What sort of names? I certainly wasn’t aware of this.’

‘It seems that some of the children have been calling her father “a nutter” and similar derogatory names. One child said it to Beth, and some others have been saying it behind her back.’

‘That’s dreadful,’ Miss Willow said, truly appalled. ‘Who is responsible?’

‘Beth doesn’t want to get anyone into trouble,’ I said. ‘And there is more than one person involved.’

Miss Willow shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ll deal with it immediately. I really had no idea this was going on. Poor Beth.’

‘Thank you. I was wondering if perhaps you could speak to the whole class? Perhaps about name calling in general and how hurtful it can be, rather than mentioning Beth specifically.’

‘Absolutely. Of course,’ Miss Willow agreed. ‘And I’ll explain that people go into hospital for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes it’s because they are physically ill and sometimes it’s because they’re very unhappy and need help. There seems to be a lot of ignorance surrounding mental health.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed, relieved. ‘That would be perfect. Thank you. I am grateful.’

‘No need. I should have picked this up sooner. I’m usually more tuned into bullying, which is what this is.’

Aware that school was due to start soon, I made a move to go.

‘How is Beth?’ Miss Willow asked.

‘She’s doing very well,’ I said. ‘She saw her father last Friday and I expect she’ll see him again this Friday. I understand he’s making a good recovery and should be discharged soon.’

‘And Beth will be returning to live with him?’ she now asked.

‘Yes, as far as I know.’

‘Despite the concerns you and I raised with her social worker?’

‘Well, yes,’ I said, a little taken aback. ‘Didn’t Jessie tell you that the concerns were completely unfounded? I felt dreadful because I caused Derek so much distress.’

Miss Willow studied me carefully for a moment and then said something rather odd. ‘I wouldn’t feel too bad. Jessie did tell me the outcome, but the file’s not closed yet.’ The klaxon sounded for the start of school and Miss Willow stood. ‘I’ll walk you downstairs,’ she said. ‘I have to go into the playground to bring my class in.’

The three of us went out of the classroom. ‘Does Beth know why you’ve come to see me?’ Miss Willow asked as we walked.

‘Yes. She wasn’t altogether happy about it, but I felt it was best.’

‘Absolutely. I’m very grateful you told me, and please be reassured I’ll deal with the matter today.’

‘Thank you,’ I said again.

We arrived in reception and went out of the main door. We said goodbye and Miss Willow went over to her class, where Beth was already standing in line. Beth saw us and gave a little wave and Paula and I waved back. Adrian was also lining up in his class, but he was too busy chatting to his friends to see us. As Paula and I left the playground and began towards the car, I felt relieved and vindicated for going in to see Miss Willow. She had taken the matter seriously and would deal with it sensitively, for, as she’d said, name calling was a form of bullying, although I doubted the children involved would have thought of it as such.

I stopped off at the local shop on the way home for a few essentials, and then the rest of the day disappeared in household duties and playing with Paula. Paula would be three in April and would start nursery – mornings only – in September. I thought she was ready for the extra stimulation and socializing that nursery would bring. Once she was settled I was planning on looking for a part-time job that would fit in with school and fostering – possibly administration work, which I’d done before.

Although the day was cold, it was dry and the sun was out, so I decided to walk to school to collect Adrian and Beth, but I took the pushchair just in case Paula tired. As we waited in the playground I chatted to some other mothers. I saw Jenni’s mother and her friend standing some distance from me, but she didn’t look over. The klaxon sounded and when Beth and Adrian came out they were both in good spirits and Beth looked relieved, so I thought that whatever Miss Willow had said must have been exactly right. However, on the way home Beth asked, ‘Why was my social worker in school?’

‘I didn’t know she was,’ I said, surprised. ‘Did she speak to you?’

‘No. I was in class. I saw her through the classroom window.’

‘Perhaps she went into school about another child,’ I suggested, which seemed a reasonable possibility.

Beth gave a small shrug and then began hopscotching the paving stones as we walked. Adrian and Paula joined in, so our progress home was slow but fun. Even I had a quick hopscotch, which made them all laugh.

I thought no more of Beth’s comment about seeing Jessie in school and the rest of the afternoon and evening continued as usual, with dinner, Adrian and Beth doing their homework, a few games and then the bath and bedtime routine. Beth telephoned her father at seven o’clock while I bathed Paula and they talked mainly about what she would wear when she visited him the following day, although I intended to have a say in that. I hadn’t heard from Jessie that week so I’d assumed the arrangements for Beth visiting her father would be the same as the previous week, which from their conversation is what Beth and Derek appeared to assume too. They were naturally looking forward to seeing each other, but it wasn’t to be.

The following morning, when I returned home from taking Adrian and Beth to school, Jessie telephoned, and what she said was not only devastating for Beth, but also made no sense at all.