by Cathy Glass
‘And he can’t come to the telephone to talk to his daughter? Not just for a short while?’ I asked.
‘No. I’m sorry. He’s asleep.’
There was nothing more I could say, so, thanking the nurse, I put down the telephone and turned to Beth. Her face was already crumpling. ‘Why can’t I speak to my daddy?’ she asked, her voice trembling.
‘Because he’s asleep, love, and the nurse didn’t want to wake him.’
‘But he wanted to speak to me. He told me to phone. They should have woken him.’
‘I’m sorry, love. I can’t do any more. I only know what the nurse told me.’
‘Can’t we phone and try again?’ Beth asked, her eyes filling. ‘That nurse might be wrong. Can you speak to another nurse?’
‘The nurse said your daddy was definitely asleep, pet,’ I said, taking her hand in mine. ‘Perhaps he’s had a busy day.’ But Beth didn’t believe this any more than I did. ‘I’ll telephone Jessie tomorrow,’ I said.
Beth burst into tears and I put my arms around her and comforted her. I felt sorry for her. She was so disappointed at not being able to speak to her father. I also felt guilty, for I was sure that in some way I was responsible for Derek ‘being asleep’ and not being able to come to the phone. It seemed too much of a coincidence that Derek hadn’t been able to come to the phone after Jessie’s visit.
I soothed Beth, and when she was feeling a bit better I gently dried her eyes. ‘There, that’s better,’ I said. ‘Now, why don’t you go downstairs and play a game with Adrian, while I read Paula a story? I won’t be long.’
‘Can I come with you?’ Beth sniffed.
‘Yes, of course, if you want to.’
Beth nodded mournfully and I took her hand and we went round to Paula’s room.
‘Beth would like to listen to your story too, if that’s all right?’ I said to Paula.
‘Yes. You can listen,’ Paula said, patting the bed beside her. ‘Have you spoken to your daddy?’ she asked as Beth climbed onto the bed.
I saw Beth’s bottom lip tremble. ‘Not tonight,’ I said. ‘Her daddy was asleep.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Paula said. ‘I don’t speak to my daddy much on the phone.’ I could have wept. Perhaps I was feeling overly sensitive, but Paula’s comment touched me deeply, and I dearly hoped John would remember his promise to telephone during the week.
There wasn’t much room on Paula’s single bed for the three of us, but we managed. Propped up against the headboard, I balanced precariously on the edge of the bed as I read Paula’s favourite stories. Although the books were a little young for Beth, she seemed to enjoy them as much as Paula did. Also, I think she enjoyed the closeness and intimacy of the bedtime story. It’s a lovely way for children to unwind at the end of the day.
‘I’m going to ask my daddy to read me stories in bed when I go home,’ Beth said.
‘Can’t your mummy read you stories?’ Paula asked innocently.
‘She doesn’t live with us,’ Beth said.
‘My daddy doesn’t live with us much either,’ Paula agreed.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I read the next story and continued reading for half an hour.
Later, when Beth was in her bed and I went to say goodnight, she was clearly still thinking of her father. ‘Why didn’t Daddy want to speak to me?’ she asked.
My heart clenched, and I felt even guiltier. ‘It wasn’t that Daddy didn’t want to speak to you,’ I said. ‘He was asleep.’
‘But it was only seven o’clock,’ Beth said. ‘And he knew I was going to phone. He told me to phone every evening.’
‘I know. But sometimes in hospital plans change at the last minute. It can’t be helped. I’ll telephone your social worker tomorrow and see what she says.’
Beth finally accepted this and I tucked her in and kissed her goodnight. She turned onto her side and, sliding the photograph of her father from under the pillow, kissed his image through the glass. ‘Night, Daddy,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll telephone tomorrow. Please be awake.’
She returned the photograph to under the pillow. I said goodnight again and came out.
I had another restless night thinking about Derek, what Jessie had said and the conversation I would have with Jessie the following day. Eventually I fell asleep in the early hours and it seemed I’d no sooner fallen asleep than the alarm was ringing. I tumbled out of bed and into the school-day routine: waking the children, helping Paula wash and dress and then making breakfast. It was another cold January day, with grey skies that stretched as far as the eye could see. We wrapped up warm in our coats, scarves and gloves and hurried to school. On the way home I stopped off at the local grocery store for milk and bread. Also shopping was a friend of mine, Kay, with her daughter Vicky; her children were a similar age to mine. We began chatting and presently Kay said, ‘Cathy, rather than stand here talking, why don’t you come back to my house for coffee, and the girls can play?’ We did this from time to time – meeting at Kay’s house or mine and sometimes with other friends and their children too.
‘I’d love to,’ I said. ‘But I have to speak to Beth’s social worker first thing about something urgent.’ Kay knew I fostered, as did my other close friends.
‘So why not come over later when you’ve spoken to the social worker? Say about eleven o’clock? How does that sound?’ Although Paula often had a short nap at eleven o’clock, she was coming to the end of the time when she needed a daytime sleep.
‘Thanks. That would be great,’ I said. ‘We’ll see you later.’
‘See you later,’ the girls chimed, grinning at each other.
I bought the groceries I needed and went home. I wondered if Jessie would telephone me; the last time we’d spoken she’d said she would call if she had any news. I waited until just after ten o’clock and then I decided to telephone her. Settling Paula with some toys in the living room, I told her I was going to use the telephone in the hall so that I didn’t disturb her, and that once I’d finished we’d get ready and go to Kay’s, which pleased her.
I dialled the children’s services and asked for Jessie’s extension. She answered.
‘It’s Cathy, Beth’s carer,’ I said.
‘I was going to telephone you later. How is Beth?’
‘All right now, but she was upset last night when we phoned her father. He couldn’t speak to her.’
‘I know,’ Jessie said.
‘The nurse said he was asleep.’
‘He was sedated,’ Jessie said bluntly. ‘They were putting him to bed as I left.’
‘Oh dear,’ I said. ‘Can I ask you why he was sedated?’
‘He was upset,’ Jessie said, equally bluntly. ‘When I told him of your concerns, he became very agitated and started shouting and crying. The doctor was called and said he would give him something to calm him down and help him sleep.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. As I’d feared, I was responsible.
‘It’s not your fault,’ Jessie said, which surprised me. ‘Derek was in a fragile state to begin with. I told him I thought the allegations were unfounded and I had no reason to doubt his ability to parent Beth, but he still took it very badly. He feels there is a lot of prejudice against a man bringing up a daughter alone, and I think he could be right. He’s overheard mothers discussing him in the playground. One even suggested that the reason his wife had disappeared was because he’d “done her in”. Miss Willow had also spoken to him, so I’m afraid your comments were the final straw. I reassured him that as far as I’m concerned the matter is finished, but it didn’t help. Hopefully he’s recovered now.’
‘I do hope so,’ I said. I hesitated, then I dared to ask: ‘Did you tell him what Marianne said?’ From what Jessie had said, it seemed that she hadn’t mentioned Marianne’s worries to Derek, just mine.
‘Yes. Derek admitted there was a problem between Marianne and Beth. He said they seemed to be jealous of each other and vied for his attention. It was going from
bad to worse, which was why he ended his relationship with Marianne. He explained this to Marianne, but it appears she doesn’t want to believe it.’
Put like that it all seemed so rational and reasonable. I felt an absolute fool – a vindictive fool who had caused a lot of trouble and set back Derek’s recovery.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Will Derek be well enough for Beth to speak to him this evening?’
‘Yes. I should think so. I’m going to telephone the hospital later and see how he is today. If you don’t hear from me, assume he’s all right and telephone as normal. But Cathy, I would appreciate it if you just made the call and then passed the telephone to Beth. I don’t want you engaging in conversation with Derek. Understood?’
‘Yes.’
‘Also, I want Beth to see her father later in the week. The doctor agrees it will help his recovery. I was thinking of Friday after school. I was going to ask you to take Beth, but given the animosity between you and Derek I think it’s better if I take her.’
‘All right,’ I agreed, feeling completely ineffectual.
‘If I don’t speak to you before, I’ll collect Beth at about four o’clock on Friday, and return her after the visit.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Shall I tell Beth she’ll be seeing her father on Friday?’
‘Yes. It will help cheer her up. Should help cheer up Derek too. Poor man, he was so upset. Inconsolable.’
Which compounded my feelings of guilt and wretchedness.
Chapter Eight
Wise Owl
Paula and I went to Kay’s house as arranged at eleven o’clock and the two girls played while Kay and I talked over coffee. Kay soon realized I was preoccupied and it wasn’t long before she asked: ‘Is everything all right, Cathy? You don’t seem your usual chatty self.’
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I have a problem connected with the fostering. I made an error of judgement and caused someone a lot of upset.’ Kay knew that confidentiality forbade me from discussing the details, as did my other friends and family.
‘I’m sure you didn’t mean to,’ Kay said. ‘I know how much fostering means to you, and how much you love it. All that time you invest in it. Anyone can make a mistake.’
‘Thank you.’ I smiled weakly. ‘Unfortunately this was rather a large mistake and I’ve hurt someone a lot.’
We stayed for just over an hour and then Kay offered to make us some lunch, but I politely refused, saying I had things to do. In fact, I felt I was such poor company that it would be better for her if we went. ‘Another time would be good,’ I said. ‘Or you could come to us. We can arrange something next week.’
‘That’d be lovely,’ Kay said. ‘Try not to worry.’
‘Thank you.’
We said goodbye, and I went home – to brood.
That afternoon, when Beth came out of school, she asked if I’d spoken to Jessie and if she could telephone her father.
‘Yes, you can,’ I said with a smile. I’d assumed that Jessie would have telephoned me by now if the call wasn’t going ahead. ‘Also, Jessie is going to take you to see your daddy after school on Friday.’
Beth’s face lit up. ‘Fantastic! I’m going to see my daddy. What was the matter with him last night?’
‘He was asleep, like the nurse said,’ I replied, which was close to the truth. I wouldn’t normally explain sedation to a child Beth’s age unless it was absolutely essential, as it would be upsetting for them.
I continued to worry about the distress I’d caused Derek by unjustly accusing him for the rest of the day. I was looking forward to the weekend, when John would be home and I could share my worries with him, for, as the saying goes, a problem shared is a problem halved. Just as we’d finished eating dinner, the telephone rang. I left the table and answered it in the living room. I was very pleased to hear John’s voice.
‘Hello, love. What a lovely surprise!’ I said. ‘Adrian and Paula will be so pleased you phoned. I’ll call them now. And when you’ve finished talking to them I’d like a chat too. Adrian! Paula!’ I called from the living room. ‘Dad’s on the phone.’
They came running and jumped onto the sofa and sat side by side. I handed the telephone to Adrian. ‘You speak to Dad first and then pass the phone to Paula,’ I said to Adrian. He nodded.
‘Hi, Dad!’ Adrian began with a broad grin. I could see how delighted he was that his father had made the time to call. Paula was grinning too.
I left Adrian and Paula to talk to their father and I returned to Beth, who was still sitting at the dining table, although she’d finished eating.
‘When can I telephone my daddy?’ she asked pensively.
‘At seven o’clock, love. In forty-five minutes,’ I said, glancing at the wall clock. ‘Not long now.’
‘Their daddy doesn’t telephone much, does he?’ Beth said.
‘No, so I’m very pleased he’s found the time to telephone now.’
‘Why doesn’t he phone them much?’ Beth asked. ‘Doesn’t he want to speak to them?’
‘That’s not the reason,’ I said, taken aback that Beth should think this. ‘Their daddy is very busy at work. He phones when he can, and please don’t say that to Adrian and Paula. They miss him enough already.’
‘I miss my daddy too,’ Beth said. ‘Can I speak to their daddy?’
I hesitated. This was a small chance for Adrian and Paula to speak to their father, yet I didn’t want to say no. ‘When they’ve finished you can say a quick hello,’ I said, ‘but not for too long. You don’t want to be late phoning your daddy, do you?’
‘No,’ Beth agreed. I awarded myself full marks for tact and diplomacy.
We could hear Adrian’s voice floating through from the living room as Beth helped me clear the dishes. Adrian was answering his father’s questions about school and then football club. Then, a little while later, I heard Paula’s voice: ‘Hello, Daddy. I’ve been playing at Kay’s house today, with Vicky.’ She began telling him her news. Then I could hear the two of them chatting, presumably holding the telephone between them, and then Adrian called: ‘Mum! Dad wants to speak to you. He has to go soon.’
Beth came with me into the living room and Adrian handed me the phone. ‘Hi, love,’ I said to John. ‘Beth would like to say a quick hello, if you have the time?’
‘Sure. Put her on.’
I passed the telephone to Beth and, smiling, she said, ‘Hi, I’m going to speak to my daddy soon. It’s been nice talking to you. Goodbye.’ Satisfied, she returned the telephone to me.
‘How’s work?’ I now asked John. ‘Still very busy?’
‘Absolutely. But managing to keep on top of it.’
‘Good. I’m so pleased you found the time to phone and speak to the children. I wanted to discuss something with you, but if you’re in a hurry it can wait.’
‘Is it urgent?’ John asked. ‘I haven’t eaten yet.’
‘No. You go for your dinner. It can wait until the weekend.’
There was a short pause before John said, ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it home this weekend. Sorry, but it’s unavoidable.’
‘Oh,’ I said, taken aback and very disappointed. John always came home at the weekends unless he was working abroad, which wasn’t often. ‘Oh, I see. Why?’ I asked. The children were watching me, aware something was wrong.
‘Inundated with work, I’m afraid,’ John said.
‘And you can’t bring the work home with you?’ I suggested. Which he had done before.
‘No, not this time, I’m afraid. I’m needed on site.’
‘I see,’ I said again. ‘Will you be able to phone over the weekend? We’ll all miss you.’
‘I’ll try,’ John said. I heard a noise in the background, as though someone might be in the room, then John said, ‘I have to go. They’re waiting for me to go to dinner. It’s another working meal, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh dear, I am sorry,’ I sympathized. ‘I hope it doesn’t run on too late. Do try and find som
e time to relax over the weekend or you’ll be exhausted.’
John gave a small snort of laughter. ‘Say goodbye to the kids for me. Bye, Cathy.’
‘Bye. Love you.’
‘And you.’
The line went dead and I replaced the received. The children were still looking at me and I tried to hide my disappointment.
‘Dad’s not coming home, is he?’ Adrian said a little crossly.
‘No. I’m afraid he can’t make it this weekend. He has to work,’ I said.
‘He’s always working,’ Adrian said, cross and sad. ‘Doesn’t he want to come home and see us?’
‘Of course he does, Adrian. You know that. Your dad has a lot of responsibility and sometimes he has to work away. Of course he comes home whenever he can.’
‘I’m seeing my daddy on Friday,’ Beth put in, which didn’t help at all.
‘I’m going to my room!’ Adrian said. Jumping up from the sofa, he fled the room and ran upstairs, close to tears.
‘Beth, I’d like you to stay here and look after Paula for a moment, please,’ I said. ‘I won’t be long.’
Beth took Paula’s hand. Their expressions were serious.
‘Play a game or something,’ I called as I left the living room.
Upstairs, Adrian’s bedroom door was shut so I gave a brief knock and went in. Adrian was sitting on the floor, cross-legged and staring down. I went over, sat beside him and took his hand in mine.
‘Adrian, love,’ I began gently. ‘I know how much you miss your dad. I miss him too, so does Paula. Your daddy loves you very much and I know he would come home if it was at all possible.’
‘Why does he have to work away?’ Adrian asked sadly, glancing up at me. ‘Why can’t he come home at night like he used to? Like other fathers do.’
‘Do you remember I explained he was given a promotion at work?’ I asked gently. ‘He was pleased, because it showed he was doing a good job. It means he earns more money to look after us, but it also means he has to work away sometimes.’