me I shouldn’t leave Beth alone with her father, not even on the telephone. ‘It’s difficult,’ I said to Derek. ‘Beth is in my bedroom and my daughter is in her room.’
‘Oh, OK,’ he said reasonably. ‘Can I say goodbye to Beth?’
‘Yes, of course.’
I passed the telephone to Beth, who was glaring at me.
‘Why is she telling you to go?’ she asked her father. ‘I can speak to you if I want.’
‘You’d better do as she says as you’re in her house,’ Derek said.
And just for a moment I caught a glimpse of the ‘them and us’ situation Marianne had described, only now it was the two of them against me.
‘And you’ll telephone tomorrow?’ Derek asked Beth.
‘Of course I will, Daddy. I love you.’
There now followed a series of ‘byes’, ‘miss yous’ and ‘love yous’, with kisses blown in between, which seemed never-ending, so eventually I said, ‘Bye, Derek,’ loud enough for him to hear. Taking the telephone from Beth, I returned it to its cradle.
‘You can’t do that!’ Beth said, rounding on me.
I looked at her, startled by her vehemence.
‘It’s nearly your bedtime,’ I said.
‘Not for much longer,’ she grumbled, showing a different side to her. ‘My daddy said he’ll be home soon, and then I can go to bed whenever I want.’
I find that most negative or provocative comments are best ignored, so I set my face to a cheerful smile and asked Beth if she would like a drink before she started getting ready for bed. She didn’t. She stomped round to her room and closed her bedroom door with a bang. I gave her time to cool down while I read Paula a story, and then, having said goodnight to Paula, I went to Beth’s room and knocked on the door. I went in and told her it was time to have a wash and clean her teeth. She was calm now and clearly a little uncertain of me, possibly because, unlike her daddy, I hadn’t done exactly as she had wanted. When Beth was ready for bed, I went into her room to say goodnight.
‘Can I telephone my daddy tomorrow, please?’ she asked politely.
‘I’m not sure yet, love,’ I said, honestly. ‘I’ll need to speak to your social worker first. Jessie said we were to telephone over the weekend, that was all, so I’ll have to check if it’s OK to phone every evening too.’ In truth I thought that Jessie would stop telephone contact in the light of what I was going to tell her.
Beth accepted this and then asked for a hug and kiss goodnight, which I gave her. With a smile, she turned onto her side and, slipping her hand under the pillow, retrieved the photograph of her and her father on the beach. She gave his image a big kiss through the glass and then tucked the photograph under the pillow again. ‘Night-night, Daddy,’ she sighed. ‘Night, Cathy.’
‘Night, love,’ I said. ‘Sleep tight.’
I came out and drew the door to, leaving the landing light on. I felt sorry for Beth, and I didn’t in any way hold her responsible for the relationship that appeared to have developed between her and her father. Derek was an adult and should have known better. He was responsible for overstepping the line from a healthy father-and-daughter relationship into something inappropriate and for his gratification, which I now believed it was. Beth was only a child – a child who had never known her mother’s love. She didn’t know it was wrong to reciprocate and return her father’s inappropriate affection. I wondered if Derek’s mental health had played a part, although I hadn’t been told what was wrong with him. Until I could speak to Jessie I felt I carried the burden of what I knew, just as Marianne had.
After saying goodnight to Adrian and checking Paula was asleep, I went downstairs where I sat on the sofa and wrote some notes about the points I wanted to make when I spoke to Jessie the following day. Now, foster carers are encouraged to keep a daily log in respect of the children they foster, where they record any significant events as well as appointments for the child, but then logs hadn’t been introduced, so as an aide-mémoire I made notes. When I’d finished, I let Toscha out for her evening run and then I had an early night. I was emotionally exhausted, but once in bed I found I couldn’t sleep. Marianne’s worries combined with my own concerns about the relationship between Beth and her father. I believed Marianne to be a genuine and honest person, and I thought she’d told me the truth. She’d never married or had children of her own, and it was clear to me she still thought a lot of Derek and Beth. I thought she would have made a good wife and stepmother, had she been given the chance. It said a lot of her that she continued to visit and support Derek and Beth despite the way she’d been treated by them.
After a restless night I woke feeling less refreshed than when I’d gone to bed, and I stumbled through the early-morning routine of showering, dressing and then waking the children ready for breakfast. We wrapped up warm that morning before leaving the house. The weather was freezing with a cruel northeasterly wind. We hurried to school and Paula and I were pleased when we were home again and in the warm. I made us a hot chocolate each and then I played with Paula, expecting Jessie to telephone at any moment. She still hadn’t phoned by the time Paula had her morning nap, so once Paula was settled I returned to the living room and, with my notes on my lap, telephoned the children’s services department. To my surprise, Jessie answered.
‘Jessie, it’s Cathy, Beth’s carer,’ I said. ‘I left a message yesterday for you to telephone me.’
‘Yes. Got it. It’s on my list of to-dos.’ She sounded rushed and stressed.
‘Is it possible to talk to you now?’ I asked. ‘It is important.’
‘Go on then, quickly. I’m due in a meeting soon.’
Quickly wasn’t what I had in mind. I needed time to describe my concerns, but I went ahead anyway. It was a big mistake.
Chapter Seven
‘I’m worried about Beth,’ I began. ‘Marianne visited me yesterday. She brought Beth’s swimming costume.’
‘Yes, I know. I gave her your telephone number.’
‘She told me some things about Beth and her father and the way they behave towards each other that are very worrying. I think you should know.’
‘Like what?’ Jessie asked. ‘Marianne hasn’t said anything to me.’
‘No. She was going to, but she wasn’t sure what to say. It seems that Derek behaves towards Beth in a manner that isn’t appropriate.’
‘Whatever do you mean?’ Jessie asked, or rather demanded. ‘Derek is in hospital.’
‘No, before he went in, I mean. Marianne said the way he kisses and cuddles Beth isn’t right. And Beth sleeps in his bed.’
‘Lots of parents kiss and cuddle their children and let them sleep in their beds,’ Jessie said. Which, of course, was true.
‘But he’s very possessive of her,’ I continued. ‘Beth’s not
