Daddy’s Little Princess

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‘How’s that?’ I said.

‘My daddy strokes my forehead,’ Beth said. ‘Like this.’ She lightly trailed her fingers over her forehead.

Many children like having their forehead caressed when they are finding it difficult to go to sleep. It’s soothing.

‘All right, close your eyes, and I’ll stroke your forehead,’ I said. ‘It won’t be the same as when your daddy does it, but I’ll try my best.’

Beth finally closed her eyes and I began gently stroking her forehead. Ten minutes later she was still awake, and her eyes opened. ‘The light’s too bright,’ she said. ‘It’s dark in my daddy’s room.’

Although I’d dimmed the bedroom light, I got off the bed and switched it off completely, but I left the door slightly ajar so I could see by the light of the landing. I returned to Beth’s bed, lay down and began stroking her forehead again, but ten minutes later her eyes shot open again.

‘It’s not the same,’ she said fretfully. ‘My daddy’s under the covers with me. I can feel him nice and warm when he cuddles up.’

Apart from not feeling wholly comfortable doing this for Beth, I knew that if I began this routine it was going to be difficult to break it later. I didn’t know how long Beth would be staying with me, but I knew I needed to create a practical working routine. I couldn’t spend every evening tucked up in bed with Beth; I had things to do. Then I had a flash of inspiration and I remembered Mr Sleep Bear. Mr Sleep Bear, as I’d named him, was dressed in blue-striped pyjamas and had been given to Adrian by my mother when he’d been very small. One evening, when Adrian hadn’t been able to go to sleep, I’d tucked the bear into his bed and told him that now he had Mr Sleep Bear with him – who was also very tired – he would go straight to sleep. And he did. After that, whenever Adrian hadn’t been able to go to sleep, Mr Sleep Bear came to the rescue. Adrian had outgrown the bear some years before and Paula had never used him, having a number of soft toys of her own that she took to bed with her.

‘I know,’ I said, climbing off the bed. ‘I’ve got just the person to help you go to sleep.’ Beth looked at me, concerned, as well she might. ‘It’s nothing to worry about. I’m going to fetch Mr Sleep Bear. He’s a very special bear who will send you off to sleep. Stay in bed and I’ll get him. He’s in my bedroom.’

Leaving Beth in bed, I went quickly round the landing to my bedroom and took Mr Sleep Bear from the ottoman where I stored Adrian’s outgrown toys. It was now after ten o’clock and I was tired and still had some clearing up to do. Please work your magic on Beth, I thought as I carried the bear round the landing and into Beth’s room. She was propped up in bed now, wide awake, and looking at me inquisitively.

‘This is Mr Sleep Bear,’ I said, sitting him on the bed. ‘He’s very soft and cuddly and he helps children get to sleep. When he’s in your bed you’ll find you will fall asleep very quickly. He can stay with you all night. And if you do wake up, just cuddle up to him and you’ll go straight back to sleep,’ I emphasized. Clearly the child had to believe in the magic to make it work. ‘Now, lie down, good girl, and we’ll get you off to sleep.’

Beth lay on her back and I raised the duvet to her chin, then tucked Mr Sleep Bear in beside her.

‘Will you lie with me until Mr Sleep Bear makes me go to sleep?’ Beth asked.

‘Yes, of course, love.’

I lay beside Beth and she turned onto her side, away from me and facing Mr Sleep Bear. Looping her arms around the bear she drew him to her. ‘Close your eyes,’ I encouraged, ‘and you’ll soon feel very sleepy.’ I certainly did!

I began stroking Beth’s forehead while she cuddled Mr Sleep Bear. It was only a few minutes before her breathing deepened and her face relaxed in sleep. I stopped stroking her forehead and waited a moment to make sure she was in a deep sleep. Then I carefully got off the bed and tiptoed out of her bedroom, leaving the door ajar so I would hear her if she did wake and call out.

I was feeling rather pleased with myself as I went downstairs. Beth was asleep, and tomorrow I’d start what promised to be a relatively easy routine with only one school to go to. In the kitchen, I let Toscha out for her evening run and then set about the washing-up. My feeling of well-being continued. Beth seemed a very pleasant child who’d been well brought up, and I was sure she’d get along well with Adrian and Paula. I liked Beth, and the only problem I could foresee was that she was going to miss her father dreadfully. But, of course, I hadn’t spotted the warning signs. That was to come later.

Chapter Three

The Photographs (#u3641ec51-23c6-52d7-b9a4-59184395ef42)

Beth slept through the night and I woke her for school just after I’d woken Adrian.

‘Well done, love,’ I said. ‘You did sleep well.’

‘It was Mr Sleep Bear,’ she said, yawning and stretching. ‘He made me sleep.’ I smiled. She looked far more relaxed after a good night’s sleep, but naturally as soon as she woke her thoughts turned to her father. ‘Do you think my daddy will come home today?’ she asked, sitting upright in bed.

‘I don’t think so,’ I said gently as I opened the curtains. ‘Jessie will tell us when she has any news, but I think your daddy will stay in hospital for a few days, at least.’

‘I hope I can see my daddy soon. I miss him,’ Beth said, climbing out of bed.

‘I know you do, love, and Jessie said you can see him as soon as he is well enough to have visitors.’

‘What are visitors?’ Beth asked.

‘People who go and see a person. You can have visitors in hospital or at home.’

‘We don’t have visitors,’ Beth said quite adamantly. ‘It’s just me and my daddy.’ So I thought that the two of them appeared to be very alone in the world, with no relatives or friends who visited, but I didn’t comment.

I left Beth to get dressed, then I checked that Adrian was out of bed and that it was all right for Beth to be using Mr Sleep Bear, as the bear had originally been his, and he said it was fine. I helped Paula wash and dress and then we went downstairs where I fed Toscha and made Paula breakfast and myself a mug of coffee. Adrian and Beth knew they had to come down for breakfast as soon as they were ready. Beth was down first and she wanted cereal and toast, ‘like I have with daddy’, she said. Paula was already seated on her booster seat at the table eating porridge and Beth sat beside her. Adrian joined us a couple of minutes later and I was pleased I’d asked him if it was all right for Beth to use Mr Sleep Bear as, impressed by the bear’s magic powers, Beth talked about him quite a bit over breakfast. So much so that Paula wanted a Mr Sleep Bear too. Whoops, I thought. We only have one.

‘You have Mr Snuggles and Flopsy and Mopsy to help you sleep,’ I reminded Paula, naming some of the favourite soft toys she took to bed.

‘And Balo,’ she said with a smile.

‘Yes, that’s right.’ Crisis averted.

It was only natural that Beth would want to talk about her father. They were close and she was worried about him and missed him, and her talk soon left Mr Sleep Bear and returned to her father. ‘Will my daddy have breakfast in the hospital?’ she asked.

‘Yes, definitely,’ I said. ‘And lunch and dinner, and cups of tea in between.’

‘Will my daddy get dressed or stay in his pyjamas?’ Having never been in hospital it was a sensible question to ask.

‘He may stay in his pyjamas to begin with,’ I said. ‘Then, when he’s feeling a bit better, I expect he’ll get dressed.’ Clearly I didn’t know if this was so, but it seemed a reasonable supposition.

‘I don’t think my daddy took his pyjamas with him,’ Beth said, now looking at me anxiously.

‘Don’t worry. I’m sure your social worker will have thought of that. But if your daddy hasn’t got his things with him, then the hospital will give him what he needs until someone can take his things in.’ Although, of course, if Derek was as alone in the world as Beth had suggested, there may not be anyone to take in what he needed. I made a mental note to ask Jessie about this when she telephoned.

Beth’s talk of her daddy continued during the whole of breakfast, when we went upstairs to brush our teeth, in the hall while we put on our coats and shoes and in the car on the way to school. Beth’s questions and comments about her father’s welfare were intermingled with little reminiscences of what they did together: ‘Daddy and me cook our meals together … I like to help my daddy … I make him cups of tea … Daddy and me sit on the sofa and watch television … My daddy takes me to school … My daddy helps me with my reading … I love my daddy so much …’ and so on and so on.

I’d noticed that Adrian had gone quiet in the car and I was pretty sure I knew the reason why. Beth’s continual talk of her father was reinforcing to Adrian that he didn’t see his own daddy as much as he would have liked. While I’d gone to great lengths to reassure Adrian that his father working away couldn’t be helped and that he loved him very much, there was no doubt that Adrian missed him more than he admitted. Paula, that much younger, hadn’t known any different and was used to her father not being there during the week. But Adrian could remember a time when John had returned home every evening after work and they’d spent time together, similar to Beth’s descriptions. As I parked the car near the school and we climbed out, I tried to change the subject, but it didn’t work and Beth continued with her reminiscing. ‘My daddy calls me his little princess,’ she announced proudly.

‘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 after.’

‘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.