Daddy’s Little Princess Page 15

  Yet as I drove from the building I felt that something didn’t sit right, as though a piece of the jigsaw had been fitted incorrectly. Obviously I was relieved that it was now out in the open and Beth would receive the help and protection she needed, but I was struggling to accept that Derek had been sexually abusing Beth. True, I didn’t know him; I’d never even met him, although I’d seen photographs of him and had spoken to him on the phone. He didn’t look or sound like a paedophile, he looked and sounded normal, although of course paedophiles did appear normal, which was how they could prey on children. And while I knew that child sexual abuse was often perpetrated by a family member – not a stranger – Marianne, who knew Derek very well having been part of his and Beth’s lives for a long time, had been convinced he wouldn’t hurt Beth. Clearly, if Derek was sexually abusing his daughter then he was hurting her, and in a most dreadful and appalling way. Had it gone on without Marianne knowing? It was certainly possible.

  I arrived in the playground still deep in thought but put aside my worries to greet Paula. I spotted her immediately, waiting with Vicky and Kay. Paula spotted me too. ‘Mummy!’ she cried. Leaving Kay’s side she rushed over and I scooped her up and smothered her with kisses, grateful for the uncomplicated love that my family, like most others, enjoyed.

  ‘She’s been fine,’ Kay said, as Paula and I arrived at her side.

  ‘Thank you so much for looking after her,’ I said.

  I stood with Kay as first her son came out of school and then Adrian and Beth, arriving almost together. I thanked Kay again for helping me out and we said goodbye. Once we were outside the school gates, Beth said to me: ‘You’ve been to that meeting. Can I telephone Daddy?’

  I had hoped we’d be home before she asked so I could deal with it in private. ‘We’re going to have to be patient a little bit longer,’ I said.

  ‘You said that the last time!’ Beth flared angrily. ‘I’m fed up with being patient! I want to see my daddy and you can’t stop me. I’ll go on the bus if I have to!’

  We were walking along the pavement outside the school and I saw Adrian glance over his shoulder, hoping none of his friends were close enough to hear Beth’s outburst.

  ‘Jessie is coming to see us on Monday,’ I said to Beth. ‘She’s going to explain to you then what is happening. Monday isn’t long to wait. Just tomorrow and the weekend.’

  ‘That’s too long!’ Beth said, stamping her feet as she walked. ‘I’m fed up with waiting! I want to see my daddy!’

  She stamped all the way to the car, causing Adrian much embarrassment, and I quickly opened the rear door for the children to get in. Beth shot in first and then flattened herself against the door on the far side, right away from Adrian and Paula. Clearly she didn’t want anything do to with us at present. Adrian and Paula climbed in, and I checked all their seatbelts. Beth glared at me but didn’t say anything.

  All three children were silent as I drove home. I asked them, as I usually did, if they’d had a good day. Adrian and Paula nodded, but Beth met my gaze in the rear-view mirror and glared at me. When we arrived home Beth threw off her coat and shoes and, dumping them in the hall, stomped upstairs to her bedroom. I heard her door slam. I thought I’d give her a little cooling-off time, but just as I was hanging my coat on the hall stand we heard a loud crash come from Beth’s room. Leaving Adrian to look after Paula, I shot upstairs as another crash sounded from her room. I gave a quick knock on her bedroom door and went in. Beth was standing in the middle of the room with one of the framed photographs in her hand. Two others lay on the floor with their glass smashed.

  ‘Put the photograph down,’ I said, going further into her room. ‘Breaking them won’t help.’

  ‘Yes, it will!’ she shouted angrily.

  I was more concerned she might cut herself on the glass than with the actual breakages. I went over and quickly but gently removed the photograph from her hand. ‘That’s better,’ I said. ‘Now calm down and we can have a talk.’

  ‘No,’ Beth said, scowling at me and stamping her foot. ‘I don’t want to talk to you.’

  Outwardly calm, I returned the photograph to the shelf with the others and then sat on the edge of her bed and patted the area beside me for her to join me. ‘Come on, love. I need to talk to you.’

  Beth scowled.

  ‘Please come and sit down.’

  Few children can resist an adult they trust making the time to talk and listen to them, and a few seconds later, still scowling, Beth sat beside me on the bed. ‘Good girl,’ I said.

  ‘It’s about the hospital, isn’t it?’ she said, still angry and jutting out her chin. ‘That’s why I can’t see Daddy.’

  ‘What do you mean – about the hospital?’ I asked, puzzled.

  ‘I know Jessie is annoyed with me. She stopped me playing games at the hospital.’ Cleary Beth had felt Jessie’s disapproval and had realized something was wrong, without understanding what. It was probably guilt that had resulted in her claiming she couldn’t remember the games they’d played when I’d asked her at the weekend.

  ‘Jessie isn’t annoyed with you,’ I said. ‘Certainly not. And she doesn’t blame you for anything.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Beth asked suspiciously.

  ‘Positive. Let me try to explain. Sometimes children can act in a way that adults don’t think is safe. It’s not the fault of the child. They’re just behaving in the same way they always do, but adults can spot danger that children can’t. Jessie stopped you from playing kiss chase and sitting on other patients’ laps because she felt it wasn’t right.’ I felt I’d phrased it as best I could, given I was very limited in what I could tell her.

  Beth thought for a moment. ‘But I play those games with my daddy,’ she said naïvely. Which, of course, was the problem. Her father had taught her how to behave towards men, so she didn’t know any different.

  ‘Jessie will explain more when she sees you on Monday,’ I said. ‘But for now you need to understand that the decisions Jessie has had to make are to keep you safe while she makes some enquiries.’

  ‘What are enquiries?’ Beth asked.

  ‘Asking questions of other people to find out the truth.’

  ‘Will Jessie ask me questions?’

  ‘She may,’ I said.

  ‘If she does, I’ll tell her I love my daddy and I miss him and I want to see him soon.’

  ‘You can tell Jessie whatever you like,’ I said. ‘She’s your social worker and her job is to help you.’

  Beth accepted this. I asked her if she wanted a hug, and she did. She was over her anger for the time being. After a minute or so I gently eased away. ‘I’m going to clear up the broken photographs now and then make some dinner,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t throw the photos away!’ Beth cried, leaving my side and rushing to the photographs that lay on the floor.

  ‘No, I won’t,’ I said, also going over. ‘But don’t touch them. I don’t want you to cut yourself. I’ll just get rid of the glass.’

  Beth watched me closely as I carefully picked up the two broken photographs and then came with me as I carried them downstairs. Derek’s and Beth’s images looked up at me, but were distorted from the cracks in the glass. In the kitchen I carefully took the broken glass from each frame and wrapped it in newspaper before putting it in the bin.

  ‘There! As good as new,’ I said, handing the photographs in their frames to Beth. ‘You can’t even see the glass is missing unless you look very closely.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, finally managing a smile. ‘I’ll put them on the shelf in my bedroom. I promise I won’t break any more.’

  ‘Good girl.’

  I watched Beth walk away carrying the photographs protectively in front of her. While I could appreciate the anger that had led her to smash the photographs, I really didn’t understand why she treasured them so much and idolized her father if he’d been abusing her. Was it because he was the only person she had in the world and without him she’d be c
ompletely alone? It was an unsettling but very plausible reason.

  The following day, Friday, the children and I had a nice surprise. Unknown to us, John had managed to leave work early and had arrived home while I’d been collecting Adrian and Beth from school. Adrian was the first to spot his car parked in the road outside our house. ‘Dad’s home!’ he shouted. ‘Yippee!’

  As soon as I’d parked the car and opened the rear door, Adrian rushed up to the front door where he pressed continuously on the bell. The door was quickly opened from inside and all three children fell into John’s outstretched arms. ‘I’ve missed you,’ John said as he hugged them and kissed their heads.

  ‘We’ve missed you too, Dad,’ Adrian said.

  I watched as Beth hugged and kissed John with a passion and intensity that I guessed was similar to the way she embraced her father and, from what Jessie had said, other men too. It really wasn’t appropriate for someone she barely knew. After a moment John straightened and we all went inside. I closed the front door.

  ‘Hello, love,’ he said, finally getting a chance to kiss me. ‘How are you?’

  ‘All the better for seeing you.’ I smiled. Then I mouthed quietly, ‘I need to have a word with you.’

  John understood, and once the children were seated at the table in the kitchen having a drink and a snack to see them through to dinner, John motioned for me to go with him into the hall.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked quietly, when we were outside the room and couldn’t be heard.

  ‘I had a meeting yesterday with Beth’s social workers, and it seems likely Beth’s father has been abusing her.’ John gasped in horror. ‘The social services are investigating and, while they are, Beth’s not allowed to see or telephone her father. But you need to be careful.’

  ‘Why?’ John frowned. ‘What’s it got to do with me?’

  ‘Nothing directly, but Beth can be too familiar with men – because of the way her father has treated her. For example, when Beth wanted you to lie on her bed. And the way she’s always touching you – rubbing your arm or your back or running her fingers through your hair. And the way she hugs and kisses you. She hasn’t seen you that much, but she’s all over you. I’m not saying you shouldn’t hug her, but do it as you would a friend’s child, not as you do Adrian and Paula.’

  I could see John was struggling with this, just as I had. Having welcomed Beth into our home, he had treated her as a child of the family, his affection innocent and unguarded. But for Beth, any contact with John could have connotations – sexual connotations – based on the inappropriate relationship her father had with her. Now, foster carers have training that should help them recognize and deal with sexualized behaviour in children they foster, but then it was left to the carer to identify and cope with it as best they could.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of all this,’ John said as I finished. ‘I hope this doesn’t affect Adrian and Paula.’

  ‘I’ll make sure it doesn’t,’ I said, although of course anything that affected Beth affected other family members too.

  We heard the children leave the table and when they appeared in the hall we all went into the living room where we chatted about the past week: Beth and Adrian’s school, Paula’s visits with me to the park and to play with Vicky, and a little about John’s work. Presently, I said I’d better go into the kitchen and start dinner.

  ‘Does Beth want to help you?’ John asked, now cautious at being left alone with her.

  I looked at Beth and she shook her head. ‘I want to stay here,’ she said.

  ‘All right.’

  I nodded a reassurance to John, and as I left the room I propped open the door so that John could hear me in the kitchen and I could hear all of them. It seemed a sensible precaution to safeguard everyone.

  Despite the new precautions we put in place, we had a pleasant evening, although John was tired and nodded off on the sofa a couple of times. When it was Beth’s bedtime, John said goodnight to her downstairs but didn’t go to her room to kiss her goodnight as he did with Adrian and Paula. Once all three children were in bed, I sat beside John on the sofa and began telling him more about the meeting I’d had with Jessie and her manager. As foster carers, there is always something to discuss about fostering and the issues we have to deal with. The telephone rang shortly after 9.30 p.m. and with a small sigh I reached out and picked up the handset, ready to tell any friend of mine that I’d call back another time. However, it was Marianne again. ‘I hope this is a good time to call,’ she said. ‘I need to talk to you.’

  John heard, yawned and said, ‘I’m going to bed.’

  I was disappointed, as I’d hoped we’d spend time together, although I appreciated he was tired.

  ‘Yes?’ I asked Marianne. John stood, threw me a kiss and left the room.

  ‘Have Jessie and her manager seen you yet?’ Marianne asked anxiously.

  ‘Yes, yesterday.’

  ‘I had to see them on Wednesday,’ Marianne said. ‘It was like an interview. I came out feeling I’d done something wrong. They didn’t tell me anything, but I’m sure they think Derek is a paedophile. Did they say anything to you?’

  ‘Not a lot,’ I said carefully. ‘I just answered their questions.’

  ‘Questions about Beth and Derek?’ Marianne asked.

  ‘Yes, some were.’

  ‘He’s still not allowed to see Beth or speak to her on the telephone, is he?’

  ‘Not at present, no.’

  I heard Marianne sigh. ‘Derek’s beside himself with worry,’ she said. ‘I can see him having another nervous breakdown over this, and there’s nothing I can do to reassure him. I feel so sorry for him.’

  I chose my reply very carefully. ‘Marianne, when you came to see me – to bring Beth’s swimming costume – you told me how worried you were about Derek’s relationship with Beth. You knew Miss Willow and I had concerns too and you wanted me to tell Beth’s social worker.’

  ‘Yes, but I never thought it would come to this,’ she said, interrupting me. ‘Derek’s been forcibly separated from his daughter. He can’t even speak to her. It’s awful for him. Does Beth know what’s happening?’

  ‘She understands that the social services are investigating,’ I said.

  ‘What is there to investigate?’ Marianne cried, her voice rising. ‘I’ve told them everything!’

  ‘I assume they’re looking into the nature of the relationship Derek has with Beth.’ I was purposely vague, as it wasn’t for me to give Marianne details if Jessie and her manager hadn’t done so.

  ‘There’s nothing to investigate!’ Marianne said. ‘Derek and Beth are very close, that’s all.’

  I was starting to feel a bit annoyed with the view Marianne was taking and her misplaced sympathy for Derek. ‘Marianne, that wasn’t what you told me when you came here. You said you thought their relationship wasn’t healthy, and not like a father and daughter should be.’

  ‘But I didn’t see all this coming,’ she said, ‘or I wouldn’t have said anything. Of course I wouldn’t.’ I was aware that some people who report child abuse run scared when action is taken and regret reporting their concerns, but there can be no half-measures. Children have to be protected.

  ‘I think we’d better leave all this to the social services,’ I said diplomatically.

  ‘But I have to see Derek and face him! You don’t!’ Marianne cried, now very upset. ‘What am I going to tell him?’

  Marianne didn’t have to see Derek; she chose to. It was her decision. ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘My concerns are with Beth and I am supporting her as much as I can.’

  ‘I suppose that leaves me to support Derek,’ Marianne said curtly. ‘I must say I thought you’d be a bit more sensitive and understanding.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. There was silence on the other end of the telephone, so I added, ‘I’m sorry I can’t help you any more.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I won’t telephone you again!’ she snapped. And put dow
n the phone.

  I replaced the handset and stayed where I was on the sofa for a moment. I was genuinely sorry I’d upset Marianne. I’d never intentionally hurt anyone, but I really didn’t see what else I could have said. I wasn’t about to offer words of reassurance or commiseration for Derek. He was being investigated for child abuse. When I’d met Marianne, I’d formed the impression that she was a responsible and sensitive woman, who would have made a good stepmother for Beth, but her loyalty to Derek clearly undermined this. I hoped she’d keep her word and wouldn’t telephone me again.

  Pushing thoughts of Marianne from my mind, I let Toscha out for her last run and then went upstairs, hoping for a cuddle. But when I went into my bedroom I found John in bed and fast asleep. He was clearly exhausted from working away, as it was only 10.20 p.m. I thought an early night would do me good too, so I washed and changed and then quietly climbed into bed. John stirred but didn’t wake. I lay on my back gazing into the darkness as John slept and I waited for sleep to come, but thoughts chased through my head. Marianne had believed Derek’s relationship with Beth was unhealthy but now regretted saying anything, while I stood by my concerns, as I assumed Miss Willow did. I knew that sometimes the wives or partners of child abusers sided with them against the victim for fear of upsetting the status quo and being deserted, which seemed to be what Marianne was doing. It also occurred to me that, with Beth no longer in contact with her father, Marianne’s pathway to Derek had been cleared. Was that why Marianne was being so loyal to Derek, because she was seizing the opportunity to spend the rest of her life with him? It was an uncomfortable thought.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Are You Happy Here?

  After a lovely day at my parents’ on Sunday, John left early on Monday morning for another week working away. He said goodbye to me in bed and then stole silently from the house so he didn’t wake the children. I climbed out of bed and went to the window so I could wave him off. It was still dark outside and a frost had settled during the night. I hoped John would telephone to say he had arrived safely, but I knew it wasn’t always possible with all his work commitments.