Daddy’s Little Princess Read online

  ‘That’s nice, love,’ I said. I threw Adrian a reassuring smile, but he looked away.

  We entered the playground and Adrian ran off to play with his friends as he usually did. There were ten minutes before the klaxon sounded for the start of school and I waited in the playground with Beth beside me and Paula in her pushchair. I said hello to some of the other mothers I knew and then a woman with a similar-aged child to Beth came over. I’d seen her before in the playground at the start and end of school, although I didn’t know her personally.

  ‘Hi,’ she said pleasantly. ‘My daughter, Jenni, is a friend of Beth’s. They’re in the same class.’ I smiled and nodded as the two girls smiled shyly at each other. ‘I understand Beth’s daddy isn’t well,’ the mother continued. ‘Jenni said Beth is living with you?’

  ‘Yes, just for a short while, until her daddy is better,’ I confirmed.

  ‘Jenni would like Beth to come and play. We don’t live far from them. She could stay for tea. We’ve asked Beth before, but her father wouldn’t let her. I think he’s over-possessive.’

  Not knowing the woman or the reasons for Derek’s decision not to let Beth go to Jenni’s house, I wasn’t about to agree – either that Derek was over-possessive or that Beth could go to tea. Derek had clearly had his reasons for not letting Beth go, and it wasn’t for me to overturn his decision.

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ I said. ‘I’ll ask Beth’s father if it’s OK and then we’ll arrange something.’ Which seemed a fair reply to me.

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ she said, with a small shrug, and went off to talk to another mother. Her daughter followed. I hoped I hadn’t offended her.

  ‘Would you like to play at Jenni’s house if your father agrees?’ I now asked Beth.

  ‘I play with Jenni at school,’ Beth said.

  ‘Yes, I know, that’s nice, but Jenni’s mother is asking if you’d like to go and play at her house. I’ll need to ask your dad first.’

  ‘My daddy will say no,’ Beth said evenly. ‘He doesn’t want me going there.’

  Parents of young children have the responsibility for deciding whom their children associate and play with outside of school. Derek – for whatever reason – had decided that Beth shouldn’t see Jenni and Beth had accepted that. As Beth’s foster carer, it wasn’t for me to question his decision. That was until Beth added: ‘I can’t play with children when I’m not at school. At home I play with my daddy.’

  I looked at Beth carefully. ‘Do you ever have friends back to your home to play?’

  ‘No,’ Beth said.

  ‘Have you ever been to a friend’s house to play?’

  ‘No,’ Beth said again.

  I was now thinking that Jenni’s mother may have been right when she’d said that Beth’s father was over-possessive, but I also knew it was not for me to criticize. Beth’s social worker had said that Derek had been doing a good job of raising his daughter, and there was nothing to suggest Beth wasn’t happy at home – far from it; she doted on her father.

  The klaxon sounded and Adrian – now back to his normal, happy self – ran over to say goodbye. He gave Paula and me a quick kiss, called, ‘See ya later!’ to Beth and joined his friends who were lining up ready to go into school.

  ‘I’ll wait here for you at the end of school,’ I said to Beth.

  We said goodbye and she walked over to where her class was lining up and began chatting to some of the girls. Beth seemed a sociable child and clearly had friends at school, it was just that she didn’t socialize with them outside of school, as most children her age did.

  I wasn’t anticipating going into the school; there was no need. Jessie had informed the school that Beth was staying with me and the school already had my contact details from Adrian attending. The lines of children began filing into the building and I turned to leave. Then Miss Willow, Beth’s teacher, ran over. ‘I understand Beth is staying with you?’ she said, arriving at my side a little out of breath.

  ‘Yes, that’s right, until her father is better.’

  ‘Do you think we could have a chat this afternoon after school?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I said.

  ‘Thank you. See you later.’ She ran back to her class to lead them into the building. Whatever was all that about? I wondered.

  I returned home, cleared up the breakfast things and then spent some time playing with Paula and looking at picture books with her. Paula still had a little nap mid-morning and while she slept I took the opportunity to unpack the rest of Beth’s case. It was a very large suitcase and was taking up space in her room. I’d briefly opened it the evening before when I’d taken out Beth’s nightwear and wash bag, and Beth had also done some unpacking that morning after breakfast. I now began removing the rest of her clothes, hanging and folding them in the wardrobe and drawers. Although I didn’t take much notice of what I was unpacking, there seemed to be a lot of flimsy, frilly clothes more suitable for summer than the middle of winter.

  Having taken out the clothes, I now found a towel stretched over the remaining items that felt hard to the touch. I lifted the towel to find lots of framed photographs hastily wrapped in newspaper. Foster children often bring a couple of photographs of their family with them; indeed, I encourage them do so as they take comfort in seeing pictures of their family when they can’t be with them. I usually frame the photographs and set them on the shelves in their room so they can see them from the bed at night. However, Beth’s photographs were already framed, and there were a lot of them. I was up to ten and still counting. Little wonder the case had been heavy, I mused. I guessed she’d stripped their living room of photographs, for the frames were lacquered wood and more like the ones you’d find displayed in a living room than in a child’s bedroom. I removed the newspaper from each picture and set them to one side. All of them so far were of Beth and her father, and I could now put a face to Derek. I already knew he was nearly fifty, and I now saw that he was of average height and build, with grey hair and blue-grey eyes. I wondered if I’d find a photograph of Beth’s mother, but they were all of Beth and her father.

  Having emptied the case, I took it through to my room where I heaved it up and on top of my wardrobe, out of the way. I returned to Beth’s room and set about arranging the photographs on the bookshelves. There were fifteen photographs in all, of various sizes, some portrait shape and some landscape. Beth and her father were posing for the camera and smiling in all of them, and they had clearly enjoyed many days out. The photographs included shots of them on the beach, at the zoo, the funfair, the castle and a museum, as well as at home. The last one was taken at Disneyland. Lucky girl, I thought. Beth was dressed up as a fairy-tale princess and her father was dressed as the handsome prince. I arranged the photographs over three shelves and stepped back to admire my handiwork. I thought Beth would be pleased when she saw the display.

  Yet as I stood there gazing at their photographs, I began to feel slightly uncomfortable. I couldn’t say why, but all those pictures of Beth and her father with their arms around each other, and smiling at each other or into the camera, unsettled me. Then Paula woke from her nap and, shaking off my feeling of disquiet, I went into her room to get her up.

  That afternoon Jessie telephoned. She said she’d spoken to a nurse on Derek’s ward and he’d had a comfortable night. She asked me to tell Beth. Jessie also said it was too early to say how long Derek would be in hospital or when Beth could see him, but asked me to telephone the hospital over the weekend so that Beth could talk to her father.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I said, and I wrote down the telephone number of the hospital, which Jessie now gave to me.

  ‘Derek’s on Ward 3,’ Jessie added. ‘He’s very anxious about Beth, so hearing from her should help. Could you telephone Saturday and Sunday, please?’

  ‘Yes. It will help reassure Beth too,’ I said. ‘They’re very close and she’s naturally worried about him, although I’ve reassured her he’s being well looked afte
r.’

  ‘Thank you. Does Beth have everything she needs with her?’

  ‘I think so. I unpacked her case this morning. She seems to have everything with her.’

  ‘Tell me about it!’ Jessie said. ‘I had to stop her from bringing more. What have you done with all those photographs?’

  ‘I’ve put them on the shelves in her bedroom. Which reminds me, Beth was worried that her daddy didn’t have his pyjamas and wash things with him in hospital. I said I’d ask you.’

  ‘Reassure her he has everything he needs,’ Jessie said. ‘Marianne took them in, but best not tell Beth that.’

  ‘Marianne?’ I queried.

  ‘She was Derek’s long-term girlfriend,’ Jessie said. ‘Ex now – their relationship has finished. But he still phones her if he needs help. She has a key to his flat.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ I said. ‘That’s kind of her.’

  ‘Yes, it is. I take it Beth hasn’t mentioned Marianne?’

  ‘No. I got the impression that Beth and her father were very alone in the world.’

  ‘Yes, they are now,’ Jessie said pointedly, but didn’t say any more.

  Chapter Four

  Inappropriate

  That afternoon, I was wondering when I should go in to school to see Miss Willow, when Adrian came into the playground, where I was waiting, with a message. ‘Miss Willow says to tell you that she and Beth are in her classroom, and I’m to take you up.’ He seemed a little proud of the responsibility.

  ‘Thank you, love,’ I said.

  The other children were now coming out of school so I folded the pushchair and then left it out of the way in the porch of the main entrance.

  ‘Am I going to school now?’ Paula asked as Adrian took her hand.

  ‘No, sis, you’re too small,’ he laughed.

  ‘We’re going into school for a little while,’ I explained to Paula. ‘So I can see Beth’s teacher.’

  ‘I’m going to big school now!’ Paula declared.

  Beth’s classroom was on the first floor and Adrian and I took Paula by the hand and we went up the stairs together, with Paula counting the steps – as far as she could – as she did at home. We arrived on the landing and Miss Willow and Beth came out of their classroom.

  ‘Hello,’ Miss Willow said, coming forward to greet us. ‘Thank you for coming in.’

  ‘How’s my daddy?’ Beth immediately asked me.

  ‘He’s doing well,’ I said. ‘Your social worker telephoned. I’ll explain later.’ For I didn’t want to delay Miss Willow.

  ‘I thought Beth and Adrian could wait in the library,’ Miss Willow said.

  ‘Yes. I’ll bring Paula in with me,’ I said.

  ‘We’ll come down when we’ve finished,’ Miss Willow said to Adrian and Beth.

  ‘Yes, Miss,’ they chimed respectfully. Adrian and Beth went downstairs where the library was situated.

  Taking Paula’s hand, I followed Miss Willow into her classroom.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ she said again. ‘Do sit down.’ Then to Paula: ‘Would you like to do some crayoning?’

  Paula gave a shy nod. ‘I am sure she would,’ I said.

  Miss Willow took some paper and crayons from one of the cupboards and set them on the table, then she drew up two extra chairs for Paula and me. Beth liked Miss Willow, and I could see why. She was a warm, friendly person. I guessed she was in her late twenties; she was fashionably but smartly dressed and had long brown hair. I knew she’d joined the school the year before, and playground gossip said she was an excellent teacher. I was quietly hoping that Adrian would be in her class when he went up a year in September.

  ‘I won’t keep you long,’ she said apologetically. ‘But I thought it would be a good idea if we had a chat, as Beth is living with you. I take it you don’t know yet how long Derek will be in hospital?’

  ‘No. When Jessie, their social worker, phoned she said he’d had a comfortable night, but that was all.’

  ‘And you don’t know Derek personally?’ Miss Willow now asked.

  ‘No. I’ve never met him, although I’ve probably seen him from a distance in the playground at the start and end of school.’

  Miss Willow gave a small, thoughtful nod. ‘It’s no secret he’s a single parent. Beth has never known her mother.’

  ‘So I understand,’ I said.

  She paused again. ‘Has Beth said much to you about her father? I know she’s only just arrived, but I wondered if she’d talked about him?’

  ‘She talks about him non-stop,’ I said, smiling. ‘They’re obviously very close and she misses him a lot.’

  ‘Yes,’ Miss Willow said, and paused again as though collecting her thoughts.

  I glanced at Paula, who was concentrating on her drawing. ‘That’s nice. Good girl,’ I said encouragingly.

  ‘I’d be grateful if you would keep what I’m going to say to yourself,’ Miss Willow continued, her expression now serious.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ I met her gaze.

  ‘The deputy head is aware I’ve asked to see you. We’ve been worried about Beth for some time. Not academically – she’s doing very well with her work – but with regards to her home life.’ Miss Willow paused again. ‘To put it bluntly, we have concerns that Beth’s relationship with her father is far too insular for a girl her age. It’s claustrophobic, and stifling her social development. Beth’s not allowed to attend school outings – there is always an excuse – and I know from the other children she’s not allowed to go to birthday parties or play with friends outside of school. Beth talks a lot about her father. Her whole life seems to revolve around him, and his around her. There was a woman in Derek’s life, but they parted some months ago. The situation deteriorated after that. Beth’s father became ill and Beth became his carer. I was so worried by some of the things Beth was telling me that I spoke to the deputy head, and she alerted the social services. Has Beth said anything to you about …’ Miss Willow paused, searching for the right words ‘… anything that you think is inappropriate?’

  I held her gaze. ‘Beth’s only been with me a short while,’ I said. ‘She talks about her father a lot, and she’s brought lots of photographs with her, but she hasn’t really said anything inappropriate.’

  Miss Willow gave a small half-nod. ‘I understand. If you do think of anything, would you let her social worker know, please?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I said, puzzled and concerned. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was being asked and had the feeling I wasn’t being told the full story; perhaps confidentiality stopped Miss Willow from saying more.

  ‘Hopefully the situation will improve now Derek is receiving medical help,’ Miss Willow added.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Miss Willow added. ‘Beth’s a good kid. And I know she’ll be very well looked after staying with you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  I helped Paula down from her chair and folded her drawing to take with us. I said goodbye and we left the classroom. Holding Paula’s hand we counted down the steps but I was preoccupied and concerned by what Miss Willow had said. ‘Inappropriate’ was the word she’d used. Had Beth said anything inappropriate? Not really, although I remembered I’d felt uncomfortable with the idea of her sleeping snuggled up in my bed as she did with her father. Was that because it was inappropriate? I didn’t know. What Miss Willow had said had taken me by surprise; I’d been expecting a chat about Beth’s progress at school. I realized she must have spoken to Jessie about her concerns, although Jessie hadn’t mentioned them to me.

  When we arrived home I told Beth that Jessie had telephoned the hospital and had spoken to a nurse who had said that her daddy had slept well. I also told Beth that she could telephone her father over the weekend. She was delighted. When she went into her bedroom she was pleased with the way I’d displayed her photographs, although she spent a few minutes rearranging them. Beth talked about her daddy over dinner, but with John due home the followin
g evening for the weekend Adrian didn’t appear to feel it so much. ‘You’ll meet my daddy tomorrow,’ he said happily to Beth.

  ‘You’ll meet my daddy tomorrow,’ Paula repeated.

  That night, when I went into Beth’s room to say goodnight, she said, ‘I don’t need Mr Sleep Bear any more. I’ve got my daddy with me.’

  I was puzzled for a moment until Beth lifted the duvet to reveal the largest of the framed photographs nestled in bed beside her.

  I smiled. ‘I see,’ I said. ‘But the frame is very hard. It might hurt you if you lie on it in the night.’ I was also concerned that the glass could break and cut her if she rolled over onto it in her sleep.

  ‘I’ll put him under my pillow,’ Beth said. ‘That’s what I did when my daddy was in hospital before.’

  ‘Oh, when was that?’ I asked. I wasn’t aware Derek had been in hospital before.

  ‘About a year ago, I think,’ Beth said, kissing the photograph and then sliding it under her pillow. ‘He had to have an operation on his tummy. It was called ernie. When he came home he wasn’t allowed to lift anything heavy.’

  ‘That would be a hernia,’ I said. ‘So who looked after you while your daddy was in hospital?’

  ‘Marianne,’ she said, pulling a face. ‘She stays at our flat sometimes. She’s horrible. I hate her.’ It was the first time I’d seen Beth scowl. ‘She loved my daddy, but he didn’t love her. He sent her away. It’s much, much better with just the two of us. I love my daddy and he loves me.’

  ‘I know, love.’