Daddy’s Little Princess Read online

  ‘Will I be able to see my daddy on my birthday?’ Beth asked.

  Beth’s birthday wasn’t until October. ‘I don’t know,’ I replied honestly. ‘I should know more when I see Jessie on Tuesday.’

  I’d assumed that as the weather had improved John wouldn’t need to leave on Sunday afternoon but could wait until early Monday morning to drive to work. However, at five o’clock on Sunday, to my disappointment and surprise, he said he needed to make a move soon. ‘I don’t want to risk leaving it any later,’ he said. ‘You can’t trust the weather at this time of year.’

  This was true. The weather in the UK is changeable at any time of the year, but especially in spring and autumn when the temperature can rise or fall by ten degrees or more from one day to the next, bringing frost and ice when previously it had been fine. I worried about John driving, so I was quick to agree with him that it was ‘better to be safe than sorry’, as he said. I fetched his clean shirts, which I’d ironed that morning, and he repacked his suitcase. I remained positive as we all stood in the hall and he kissed us goodbye. Adrian, in particular, was very subdued as we waved John off. Once his car was out of sight, I closed the door and turned to see three glum faces.

  ‘Let’s microwave some popcorn and watch a film,’ I said. Which helped a little.

  I hadn’t yet arranged a babysitter to look after Paula on Tuesday while I was at the meeting, and possibly also to collect Adrian and Beth from school if I wasn’t back in time. Jessie had said that the meeting would be a long one and I should allow most of the afternoon. The obvious person to ask was Kay, but I was a bit reluctant to ask her for another favour, having not had a chance to reciprocate the last one, even though she was a good friend and I knew she wouldn’t mind. Later that evening, when the children were playing, I telephoned her.

  ‘That’s a coincidence!’ she exclaimed, hearing my voice. ‘I was going to telephone you later. I need to ask you a favour.’

  ‘Good.’ I laughed. ‘That makes me feel much better. I need to ask you another favour too. You go first.’

  Kay said she had a long dental appointment, three hours, booked for Wednesday morning and asked if I could look after her daughter, Vicky.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I said. ‘I’d be happy to.’

  ‘I’m afraid the appointment is rather early – nine-thirty,’ Kay said. ‘Can I leave Vicky with you in the playground? I’ll need half an hour to get to the dentist.’

  ‘No problem. And don’t rush back. I’ll give Vicky lunch, and she can stay and play for the afternoon if you like. It will give you time to recover. Then I could meet you in the playground with her at the end of school.’

  ‘That would be perfect,’ Kay said. ‘Thank you. I’m going to have a very sore mouth for a while. But it will be worth it in the end.’

  I knew Kay had been saving up for some time to have some cosmetic work done to straighten her front teeth. And, of course, having been able to help her out, I felt less guilty asking her for help on Tuesday. She was happy to oblige.

  Monday saw the start of the school week and clear skies, so I said we’d walk to school, and we left home a little earlier. During Monday I thought a lot about the meeting the following day, imagining all sorts of hypothetical discussions and outcomes. Jessie had said very little about the meeting when she’d telephoned, but I assumed I’d be brought up to date on what was happening to Derek, and the social services’ long-term plans for Beth. It crossed my mind that if Beth couldn’t live with her father again, which I assumed would be the case, as she had no other relatives who could look after her then perhaps she could continue staying with us. Obviously John, Adrian and Paula would need to agree, but it seemed silly to me to move her to another foster carer when she was already settled with us. I thought I’d raise this at the meeting if it seemed appropriate.

  On Monday evening I explained the arrangements for the following day to the children. Paula was delighted at the thought of spending another afternoon playing with Vicky, Adrian didn’t mind being met by Kay if necessary and Beth told me many times to tell Jessie that she loved her daddy and she was very sorry she’d been rude to him on the phone.

  ‘Make sure Jessie knows I won’t be rude if I’m allowed to telephone him again,’ she said.

  ‘I will,’ I reassured her. ‘Please don’t worry.’

  I felt so sorry for her.

  The following morning I was up and dressed early, even though the meeting wasn’t until one o’clock. I put the notes I’d made about the telephone contact into my handbag so I wouldn’t forget them later. We had breakfast and then I took Adrian and Beth to school in the car and returned home with Paula. The morning whizzed by, which was just as well, because Paula was so excited at going to Vicky’s that she asked me repeatedly if it was time to go yet. Finally, at 12.20 p.m., I was able to say yes.

  Having taken Paula to Kay’s, I continued to the council offices. Jessie had told me that the meeting was in the same room as the last meeting, so I signed the visitors’ book at reception and continued up the stairs to the first floor, then along the corridor to Room 3. The door was closed and I could hear the low hum of voices coming from the other side. I was a couple of minutes early, so I assumed a previous meeting hadn’t finished yet. I stood in the corridor to the side of the door and waited. A few minutes later there was still no sign of the meeting ending – I could hear talking, although not the actual words. When it went past one o’clock, I became concerned that perhaps I had the wrong room or the venue had been changed at the last minute. I was about to return downstairs and check the room number at reception when I heard a female voice come from inside the room. I was sure it was Jessie. I knocked on the door and the woman called out: ‘Come in!’

  I opened the door. It was Jessie. She was seated at the table with three others. She and her manager, Laura, were facing me, and two men had their backs to me.

  ‘Come on in and take a seat,’ Jessie said, seeing me hesitate.

  ‘Sorry I’m late. I’ve been waiting outside,’ I said, flustered. I sat in the empty seat beside Jessie.

  ‘You’re not late,’ Laura said. ‘We asked Dr Jones and Derek to meet with us early.’

  I looked across the table at the two men: Dr Jones, whom I’d never met before, and Derek, whom I recognized from the photographs. Feeling confused and self-conscious, I threw them a weak smile.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Dr Jones said in a rich, mellow voice. Tall, with fair hair and blue eyes, and in his early forties, he leaned across the table to shake my hand.

  ‘And you,’ I said.

  Derek glanced at me with a small nod, clearly feeling as uncomfortable as I did. He was wearing a suit with an open-neck shirt, and although he looked older than he did in the photographs he was easily recognizable: receding grey hair, blue-grey eyes and regular features. He had his hands on the table and he twiddled his fingers nervously.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ Jessie said to me. ‘Dr Jones is the psychologist working with Derek.’ I nodded. Then to Dr Jones she said, ‘Cathy is Beth’s foster carer.’ He smiled.

  ‘Laura will minute the meeting,’ Jessie said to me. ‘Although we’re keeping it very informal.’

  Laura and Dr Jones had notepads open on the table in front of them and Laura jotted something on hers. I was still struggling with the shock of suddenly meeting Derek, and I wondered why he and his psychologist were here. I could feel my heart racing and my cheeks flush.

  ‘We have Derek’s permission to share certain things with you,’ Jessie said, turning slightly towards me. ‘But you appreciate what you hear in this room stays in this room?’

  ‘I understand,’ I said. Most meetings I attended at the social services were confidential and of course I respected that confidentiality.

  ‘I’ll give Cathy a bit of background information before we continue,’ Jessie said. Dr Jones and Laura nodded. ‘As you know,’ Jessie said, again turning to me, ‘Derek was discharged from hospital last week.
He is now home and making good progress. Marianne, his long-time friend, has moved in with him to support him until he is completely back on his feet.’ Derek nodded but concentrated on the table. ‘We’ve just been hearing from Derek that he accidentally mentioned Marianne to Beth during their telephone call last Friday,’ Jessie continued, ‘and Beth became very agitated and angry. That is one of the issues we shall be exploring, but I think it would be useful if you could tell us how Beth has been generally, and how that telephone call went. I asked you to monitor it?’

  ‘Yes. I did,’ I said. I reached down into my handbag and took out my notes. ‘Shall I read what I’ve written?’

  ‘Do you think you could save that for a bit later?’ Dr Jones put in. ‘To begin with, I’d like to hear your impression of Beth – as her foster carer. How she’s settled into your family’s life – or not – and how she comes across as a person. I believe there are five in your family, including Beth?’

  ‘Yes. I have two children of my own, and a husband, John.’

  Dr Jones made a note. ‘And the ages and sexes of your children?’ he asked.

  ‘Adrian is six, soon to be seven,’ I said, ‘and Paula is nearly three.’

  ‘And your husband is supportive of fostering?’ he asked, glancing up from writing.

  ‘Oh yes, very much so. Although he’s having to work away quite a bit at present, so he’s only home at the weekends.’

  Dr Jones nodded as he wrote. ‘Now, perhaps you could describe Beth and how she relates to you and your family.’

  He had his pen poised, ready to write, while I felt Laura and Jessie looking at me. Derek was still concentrating on the table. I wasn’t sure what exactly Dr Jones wanted from me, but I began anyway. ‘Beth is generally very friendly and polite,’ I said. ‘We all like her. She comes across as being quite mature for her age. She’s well organized and self-sufficient, but she can worry about household matters to an extent I wouldn’t normally expect from a child of seven. Occasionally she becomes angry, but that’s understandable. She soon recovers and says she’s sorry. She’s become quite attached to my two children and plays with them nicely. She’s doing well at school and is eating and sleeping well. Considering all that has happened, I think Beth is coping remarkably well. She misses her father and was very sorry she was rude to him on the phone. She asked me a number of times to make sure Jessie told her daddy that she was sorry and she loved him.’

  Derek looked up at me, pain in his eyes. ‘Tell Beth it doesn’t matter. Of course it doesn’t. I love her too.’

  There was silence as Dr Jones and Laura wrote. Dr Jones finished last and then looked at me. ‘Thank you, Cathy. That was very helpful, but what about the problems you’ve encountered and the concerns you’ve expressed to Jessie?’

  Conscious that Derek was present, I’d been careful to avoid saying anything too negative, and although Dr Jones had now asked a direct question I still wasn’t sure how much I should say. He saw my hesitation and said: ‘You’re aware of our concerns about incest?’

  I heard the word incest and went cold.

  Chapter Twenty

  He’s Mine!

  ‘I’m aware of some of the concerns,’ I said, concentrating on Dr Jones and not daring to look at Derek. ‘But I’m not aware of the details or the findings of the social services enquiries.’

  Dr Jones looked at Jessie and Laura as he said: ‘If we are all going to work together then Cathy needs to be fully in the picture.’

  Laura whispered something in Jessie’s ear and then Jessie asked Derek: ‘Are you happy for Cathy to be made aware of our findings?’

  Derek nodded but didn’t look up.

  ‘Go ahead, then,’ Jessie said to Dr Jones.

  Dr Jones laid down his pen, setting it precisely in the centre of his notepad, and then looked at me. ‘Beth came to stay with you when her father was admitted to hospital. I am attached to that hospital, and I was assigned Derek’s case. Derek wasn’t coping and was displaying classic symptoms of what is generally known as a nervous breakdown. He was treated with medication and therapy. At the start Derek made good progress and I was expecting him to be discharged within a fortnight. However, one evening after Jessie had visited him and raised various concerns, he suffered a setback and had to be sedated. I wasn’t on duty that evening, but I was made aware of what had happened. Subsequently, Beth made her first visit to see her father in hospital, accompanied by Jessie. I was on duty that afternoon and Jessie asked me to observe some of their contact, as she was very worried by what she was witnessing. As a result of Jessie’s and my observations, combined with the previous concerns that you, Marianne and Beth’s teacher had raised, we called a professionals meeting, where it was decided that in order to safeguard Beth all contact with her father should be suspended pending a full investigation.’

  Dr Jones took a breath and I looked at Derek, who was now sitting hunched forward over the table, head in hands, as if weighed down by the pressure of what he was hearing. I returned my gaze to Dr Jones as he asked, ‘Cathy, I don’t suppose you know what the term “emotional incest” means? Most lay people don’t.’

  ‘I know what incest means,’ I said, ‘but I’m not sure about emotional incest.’

  ‘I’ll explain,’ Dr Jones said. ‘There are very good reasons in societies why fathers and daughters, and mothers and sons, are not allowed to have sexual relationships.’ I felt myself tense at his directness. ‘Any children born of those liaisons would weaken the genetic pool, and their relationships would undermine the moral and social structure of the family on which developed societies rely. In order for children to thrive, they need to grow up in an atmosphere where they feel loved and protected by their parents and not in competition with them. Sometimes – and it is more common than people think – the boundaries in the parent–child roles become foggy or even break down altogether, and the parent forms a relationship with the child that is inappropriate. It can happen for a number of reasons, including an absent or dead parent, mental illness in one of the parents or a vulnerable, needy or immature parent who is unable to provide the correct boundaries and support for their child. Emotional incest is seen in two-parent families as well as single-parent families. Nearly half of all cases of emotional incest go on to become sexual incest, where the child is either coerced into having sexual intercourse or is raped.’

  Dr Jones paused and there was deafening quiet. No one moved, and I could feel my heart drumming on the inside of my chest. Then he continued, looking at me as he spoke. ‘Emotional incest can be very difficult to spot, even by clinicians, and you and Beth’s teacher did well to report your concerns. What often happens in these cases is that an adult close to the child will instinctively feel something is wrong but won’t be able to identify what it is. Or they dismiss their suspicions as ludicrous, and ignore the evidence of their eyes. Marianne, Derek’s long-term friend, knew something was wrong but couldn’t identify it. She came to you with her concerns and you did right in passing them on to Jessie. Your actions probably saved Beth and changed the course of her destiny.’

  I gave a small, appreciative nod. Yet while I felt vindicated in having reported my concerns, I didn’t feel any less anxious for Beth. Indeed, now I knew more, I felt worse.

  ‘There’s a lot of work to be done if Derek and his daughter are to stand any chance of having a proper father-and-daughter relationship,’ Dr Jones said, addressing us all. ‘They will have to completely change the way they relate to each other, and to do that they will have to alter their perceptions of each other. I’m hoping some of this will be achieved through therapy. Derek will continue therapy with two sessions a week. Cathy, it may be helpful if, at some point, you could join us for a session so you will be in a better position to help Beth.’ I nodded. ‘I shall also be inviting Marianne and Beth to join us at some stage, but that is for the future.’ He paused and then added, ‘Beth must be a very confused little girl.’

  ‘Yes, she is,’ I said without hesitati
on. ‘But until now I didn’t understand why.’

  ‘Emotional incest is very confusing,’ Dr Jones said. ‘The child has little idea how to behave as a child in the relationship with the parent. They often have an elevated status and are made “special” – Daddy’s little princess – but that comes at a price. If emotional incest is left, it can have a devastating effect on the child for the rest of their life. Children who are victims are often incapable of forming meaningful relationships with the opposite sex in adult life, hankering after their fathers – or, in the case of boys, their mothers. Inevitably they become isolated and depressed and turn to drink and drugs as a way of coping. They often develop suicidal tendencies. Early intervention is crucial if the child is to be saved.’ Dr Jones stopped and then added, ‘It’s a big subject, but I hope this helps you understand?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ I said sombrely. Jessie and Laura nodded, while Derek kept his head down.

  ‘Good. Now, perhaps you could tell us about the telephone contact last Friday,’ Dr Jones said. ‘Then we’ll end for today. I’m sure Derek must be exhausted and I know Jessie and Laura want to talk to you after we’ve gone.’

  I’d almost forgotten the existence of the sheet of paper lying on the table in front of me. I now looked down and unfolded it. Using these notes as a reminder, I gave details of the phone contact, including Beth’s dress and make-up and that I’d eventually brought the telephone call to an end when Derek had mentioned Marianne and Beth had become angry. ‘There was only a minute or so left,’ I explained. ‘I couldn’t see that anything positive would come from prolonging the call.’