Daddy’s Little Princess. Cathy Glass

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We’re ringing him again tonight. Derek has asked us to telephone every evening.’

      ‘He would,’ Marianne said bluntly.

      I looked at her as the words hung heavily in the air, but Marianne didn’t elaborate, so I took a chance and shifted the conversation to a slightly more personal level. ‘Have you known Derek long?’ I asked.

      ‘Over ten years,’ Marianne said. ‘I was friends with him and his wife when she was there.’

      I nodded and looked at Paula, who had quietly helped herself to another biscuit. ‘Two is enough,’ I said. Paula grinned sheepishly.

      ‘When his wife left,’ Marianne said, ‘Beth was only small. I stepped in and helped Derek when I could, juggling it around my work. Everything seemed fine when Beth was little and while I was just a friend of Derek’s, although it’s true that she was always a daddy’s girl. But when our friendship grew into a relationship and I began staying some nights, Beth turned on me. The situation became intolerable, until Derek finally ended our relationship. He didn’t have any choice really, with the way Beth was behaving.’

      ‘But Beth’s only a child,’ I said. ‘How could she be responsible?’

      Marianne held my gaze. ‘Beth can be very manipulative, especially when it comes to her father. But I blame him as much as her. It was the two of them against me. Their relationship really isn’t healthy. Not at all.’

       My Concerns Grow

      A chill ran down my spine as Marianne concentrated on the cup and saucer she held in her lap and continued. ‘I expect that sounds like a horrible thing to say, but I’m not the only one who has concerns. Beth’s teacher asked me why Beth wasn’t allowed to go on any school outings. I had to explain that her father wouldn’t let her and that Beth wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without him, apart from school. Miss Willow thought he was far too possessive and I agreed. If it had been my decision, of course Beth would have been allowed to go on the outings, and to play with other children in the neighbourhood.’

      ‘When you said their relationship wasn’t healthy, what did you mean?’ I asked.

      Marianne frowned. ‘It’s difficult to explain. But Beth and her father are far too close, and not like a father and daughter should be. In many ways, Beth is more like a wife to him. She even sleeps in his bed.’ Marianne looked at me. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’

      ‘I know Beth sleeps in the same bed as her father,’ I said. ‘She told me on the first night she was here. She wanted to sleep in my bed, but I didn’t think it was appropriate, or fair on Adrian and Paula.’

      ‘Exactly!’ Marianne said forcefully, meeting my gaze. ‘So why is it that you and I think that, but Derek can’t see it? How did you make Beth sleep in her own bed? She always kicked off something awful when I tried to make her. She has a nice room at home, but she won’t use it.’

      ‘On the first night I gave her a cuddly toy, which I said would help her sleep, and since then she’s been sleeping with a photograph of her father under her pillow. It seems to work.’

      Marianne gave a small half-hearted nod. ‘Derek was never firm enough with Beth. He’s petrified that she will leave him as her mother did. He worshipped Beth’s mother and when she ran off with an old boyfriend he was devastated. In some ways he never got over it. I think he sees Beth’s mother in Beth, and clings to her memory through her. I don’t know, it’s all so confusing.’ Marianne toyed with the rim of her cup, deep in thought. I waited, for clearly she needed to say more.

      ‘Beth would never let me sleep with her father,’ Marianne said after a moment, looking up at me. ‘If I stayed the night, I had to sleep in Beth’s bed. It was like I was the child and she was his wife. She threw a tantrum if I didn’t agree to this, or anything else connected with her father. She knows how to get what she wants. I know it sounds pathetic, but the two of them stopped letting me go in the kitchen to prepare meals. They started cooking together and they were all over each other, kissing and cuddling like a couple of lovebirds. If I tried to show Derek any affection, Beth would push me away or push herself between us, so he had to kiss and cuddle her. Derek thought it was funny and just laughed. I never knew if it was for my benefit – that they wanted to show me how close they were – or if they were always like that.’ Marianne shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I still help them. Derek needs my help, and as long as I don’t show him any affection Beth tolerates me.’ Marianne stopped and looked at me, her brow creased in anguish and confusion. ‘Sorry, I don’t know why I’m dumping this lot on you,’ she said.

      ‘I can understand why you’re so worried,’ I said. ‘None of this sounds right to me either. Have you discussed it with the social worker?’

      ‘No. I thought about it. But I couldn’t think of what to say. It made me sound pathetic, as though I was jealous – of a seven-year-old girl! Perhaps I am. I wouldn’t mind some of the affection Derek shows Beth. But he doesn’t need me emotionally. He has all he needs in Beth. Though I worry about her and what is really going on.’

      I held her gaze as my stomach tightened. ‘You don’t think there could be anything more than kissing and cuddling, do you? I mean, you said their relationship isn’t healthy, but you don’t think there could be anything –’

      ‘Sexual?’ Marianne put in.

      I nodded sombrely.

      ‘I honestly don’t know. And what’s sexual and what isn’t? Where do you draw the line? Some of their kissing and cuddling could be described as sexual. I don’t think for one moment Derek would hurt Beth, but where will it stop? Beth will be a teenager one day, and then a mature woman. Will they become lovers?’ Marianne fell silent.

      Anxiety, and fear for Beth, gripped me. ‘The social worker needs to know,’ I said.

      Marianne nodded.

      ‘Shall I tell her what you’ve told me?’

      ‘Yes, please. It’ll sound better coming from you. It’s a relief to share all this at last.’ Marianne glanced at her wristwatch. ‘I’m sorry, I must go. I’m late for work already. I don’t want to lose my job on top of everything else.’ She immediately stood and returned her cup and saucer to the tray. ‘Thank you for listening and thanks for the coffee.’

      ‘You’re welcome.’ I also stood.

      Paula, who’d been playing on the floor with her toys, came to my side and slipped her hand into mine. The three of us walked in silence to the front door. Marianne paused before leaving and, turning to me, said anxiously: ‘We are doing the right thing in telling the social worker, aren’t we? Derek is very vulnerable and he isn’t coping well.’

      ‘Yes. Beth is a child who is also very vulnerable. She has to be protected. I’m sure the social worker will know what to do and will handle it sensitively.’

      Marianne gave a resigned nod and, turning, went down the path and to her car. I closed the front door.

      ‘Was that lady Beth’s mummy?’ Paula asked.

      ‘No, love. She’s a friend of Beth’s daddy. She’s been helping to look after Beth.’

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