was with a very heavy heart that I took Paula into the living room, settled her with her toys on the floor and explained that I had an important telephone call to make and that I would use the telephone in the hall.
‘OK, Mummy,’ Paula said. ‘I understand.’
I left the door to the living room ajar so that Paula could come out if she needed me. I returned down the hall and picked up the telephone on the hall table. I dialled the number of the social services and was put through to the children’s services department. I gave my name, explained I was Beth’s foster carer and asked to speak to Jessie. Jessie’s colleague said that Jessie was out of the office on a home visit and wasn’t expected back until much later that afternoon. I left my telephone number together with a message asking if Jessie would telephone me as soon as possible. The social worker then asked if it was an emergency and I said it wasn’t, although I did need to speak to Jessie as soon as possible.
I replaced the receiver, went into the living room and checked on Paula, who was still amusing herself, then I took the tray containing the cups and saucers into the kitchen where, preoccupied with thoughts of Beth, I rinsed them out. I took the clean laundry upstairs where I distributed it into the drawers in the children’s bedrooms. As I entered Beth’s room, my gaze went to the rows of framed photographs on the shelves. I went closer and stood in front of them for a few moments, viewing them individually and also collectively. It was then I realized what it was about the photographs that made me feel so uncomfortable: it was the manner in which Beth and her father were posing. They either had their arms wrapped around each other and were gazing into each other’s eyes or they had their heads together and were smiling at the camera. But in each of their poses they were more like a couple than father and daughter, or as Marianne had said – lovebirds. The more I looked at the photographs the more obvious it became. I thought of the photographs of Adrian and Paula with their father and I knew none of them were like this. Yet there was nothing overtly sexual in the pictures. Derek and Beth weren’t touching inappropriately; it was the overall impression that was suggestive. Something definitely wasn’t right.
My mouth went dry as I turned away from the photographs. I lay Beth’s clothes on her bed and then reached under the pillow and slid out the photograph she slept with. It was a picture of Beth and her father on the beach. They were in their swimwear, kneeling on the sand and facing each other with their lips pursed as though blowing a kiss. It was the largest of the photographs and I now realized the most intimate. I wondered who had taken it and whether they had seen anything odd in the pose of this father and daughter. I returned the photograph to beneath the pillow, put Beth’s clothes away and then came out of her room.
By the time I left for school Jessie hadn’t returned my telephone call, so I telephoned again at five o’clock. A colleague said that Jessie had been delayed and she wasn’t expected to return to the office that day. She said she’d leave a message for her to telephone me first thing in the morning.
When I told Beth that Marianne had brought her swimming costume, she pulled a face.
‘I thought it was nice of Marianne to go out of her way to help us,’ I said to Beth. ‘It saved me a trip into town.’
‘I’d rather have a new costume,’ Beth grumbled. ‘Daddy would have bought me a new one.’
‘Really?’ I said lightly, ignoring her ill humour. I continued with the preparations for dinner.
Beth was soon over her grumpiness and was excited by the prospect of telephoning her daddy at seven o’clock, and every evening. Over dinner she talked about little else. I watched her closely as we ate. With Marianne’s words still fresh in my mind, everything Beth said about her father and her mannerisms when she spoke of him took on a more sinister tone. Daddy kisses my feet and it makes me laugh, Beth declared, giggling. Daddy likes brushing my hair at bedtime until it shines. Daddy and me go to bed at the same time and he cuddles up to me. Even I’m Daddy’s little princess now had an uncomfortable ring to it. Yet Beth clearly loved her father as he did her. Their relationship, as Marianne had said, was confusing, and the concerns were difficult to identify and put into words.
As seven o’clock approached I steeled myself to make the telephone call to Derek, for I really didn’t want to talk to him. Beth had been reminding me for the last hour that it was nearly time to telephone her daddy. Adrian was in the living room reading, and seven o’clock was usually the time I started Paula’s bath and bedtime routine. That night, however, I bathed Paula early and then put her into bed with some toys and told her I’d read her a story after Beth had telephoned her father.
‘I understand, Mummy,’ she said sweetly.
‘Good girl.’
Beth was already in my bedroom, sprawled out on the bed and waiting for me to make the call. I sat on the edge of the bed, hoping against hope that Derek wouldn’t be able to come to the phone. I dialled the hospital and was put through to the ward. True to his word, Derek was ready and waiting and came to the telephone as soon as the nurse called him.
‘Hello, Cathy,’ he said brightly. ‘How are you?’ Ridiculously, I was surprised that his voice sounded normal.
‘Good evening, Derek,’ I said evenly. ‘I’ll put Beth on.’
‘Before you do, can I have a quick word please?’
‘Yes?’
‘I just wanted to know if Beth was all right. You know, eating and sleeping well. She sounds all right on the phone, but obviously it’s very worrying for me not to be with her.’
‘I appreciate that,’ I said. ‘Beth is fine.’ And I passed the telephone to her.
Impolite of me, yes, but my thoughts were in turmoil.
I sat on the edge of the bed as Beth talked to her father. They began by asking each other how they were and what they’d been doing. They said how much they were missing each other and blew kisses down the phone, which took on a new significance given what I now knew. Derek then began talking in a silly high-pitched voice to make Beth laugh, and they both giggled like children.
‘Oh Daddy, you’re teasing me again. Stop it.’ Beth laughed.
More silly voices followed and then Derek asked Beth what she was wearing and she lowered her voice and fluttered her eyelids as she told him she’d changed out of her school uniform and into her blue dress with the bow, to please him – in a manner almost as if she were flirting. Then she said: ‘Oh Daddy, I miss you and your warm cuddles so much.’
‘I miss you too, princess,’ Derek said. ‘I miss holding you in my arms so very much. I can’t wait until I’m home and can tuck you up in bed beside me again.’ Which, in the light of what I now suspected, made me shudder.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could listen to all of this; they’d been on the telephone for nearly half an hour. Then Paula, who’d been waiting patiently in her bed, called out: ‘Mummy, is it time for a story yet?’
‘Yes, love,’ I called back. ‘I’ll be with you soon.’
I waited while Derek finished telling Beth that he hoped he’d be home soon, and then I said to Beth: ‘You need to say goodbye now.’
She looked at me, surprised.
‘I’ll explain,’ I said, easing the telephone from her. ‘Sorry,’ I said to Derek. ‘Can you say goodbye now, please? I need to end the call as
