Daddy’s Little Princess

by Cathy Glass

  Beth was in very good spirits when she came out of school that afternoon and skipped over to me happily. ‘I’m seeing my daddy soon!’ she cried. ‘I’m so happy. And I know what I’m going to wear.’

  ‘Good,’ Adrian said as we made our way to the car. ‘Dare I ask what it is?’

  ‘I’m not telling you,’ Beth teased. ‘You’ll have to wait and see. It’ll be a big surprise.’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ Adrian said dryly. I wondered how much attention she’d paid to her lessons that day and how much time she’d spent thinking about what she was going to wear. Whatever would she be like as a teenager? I thought with a smile.

  Once home, Beth quickly took off her coat and shoes, then went straight up to her room to change. ‘Remember, Jessie will be here in fifteen minutes,’ I called after her. ‘Do you want some help?’

  ‘No. I’ll be ready on time,’ she replied.

  I went into the kitchen to begin the preparation for dinner. I assumed Beth would eat when she returned from seeing her father. As I worked, I kept one eye on the clock. At five minutes to four, with no sign of Beth, and Jessie due in five minutes, I left what I was doing and went upstairs. Beth’s bedroom door was closed, so I knocked. ‘It’s Cathy. Are you ready, Beth? Jessie will be here soon.’

  ‘I’m ready,’ Beth called from inside. ‘You can come in.’

  ‘Good girl,’ I said.

  I opened her bedroom door, took a step in and stopped. Good grief! I thought but didn’t say. ‘Oh. Is that what you’re wearing?’ I asked, trying to hide my shock.

  Beth grinned, pleased. ‘Yes. Do you like it?’

  I could see how pleased she was with herself. Not only did I not like the dress she was wearing, but also it wasn’t suitable for a child, the cold weather or hospital visiting. It was very short, made from bright-red glossy satin and had puffed sleeves and a big lace collar. I remembered seeing the dress when I’d unpacked Beth’s case, but I’d assumed it was for ‘dressing up’ in at home. Beth was also wearing black lacy tights and children’s high-heeled shoes, which again I’d assumed were for dressing up. However, what concerned me even more was what Beth had put on her face.

  ‘Are you wearing make-up?’ I asked, aghast.

  Beth nodded and turned to admire her handiwork in the mirror. ‘I did a good job, didn’t I?’

  I stared at her reflection in the mirror: bright-blue eye shadow, navy mascara and red lipstick. Normally I didn’t let young girls wear make-up unless it was part of playing at home, nor did I let them dress provocatively, which was the only word to describe Beth’s appearance. It sexualizes the innocent. She looked like a child prostitute and I shuddered at the thought. But what could I say? Beth was so happy. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and ruin her evening, and Jessie was expected any minute.

  ‘Usually my daddy helps me put on my make-up,’ Beth said, again admiring her face in the mirror. ‘But I did it all by myself this time.’

  ‘Your father puts make-up on you?’ I asked, shocked.

  ‘Yes. He says he has a steady hand and can do it better than me.’

  I shifted my gaze from Beth to the photographs on the shelves. ‘Were you wearing make-up in those photographs?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, daddy did it for me.’

  Which explained why Beth looked that much older in the photographs.

  ‘Where did you get the make-up from?’ I now asked, for I was sure I would have remembered seeing it when I’d unpacked.

  ‘It was in my drawer at school,’ Beth said, finally turning from the mirror. ‘I took it in to show my friends – they’re not allowed make-up. Then I forgot it. I remembered today and I put it in my coat pocket so I wouldn’t forget it.’

  The doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be Jessie,’ I said. There wasn’t time for Beth to change.

  ‘Mum! Doorbell!’ Adrian yelled from the living room.

  ‘Yes, I heard!’ I returned.

  We went downstairs, with Beth clutching the banister rail and tottering on her high heels. I opened the front door. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said to Jessie. ‘Beth got herself ready.’

  Beth appeared beside me.

  ‘Oh gosh! You are dressed up,’ Jessie exclaimed, seeming more impressed than shocked.

  ‘I wanted her to wear a warmer dress,’ I explained. ‘And I’m afraid I didn’t know about the make-up.’

  ‘Daddy bought it for me,’ Beth said proudly.

  Jessie nodded, apparently not sharing my concerns. ‘Get your coat on then,’ Jessie said. ‘Daddy will be waiting.’

  I took Beth’s coat from the hall stand and helped her into it. ‘Be careful on those heels,’ I said as she tottered unsteadily over the doorstep. ‘Have a nice time.’

  ‘I should have her back soon after six,’ Jessie called. ‘It’s a twenty-minute drive each way and an hour visiting.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  ‘Can’t we stay longer?’ Beth said as they went down the path.

  ‘We’ll see,’ I heard Jessie say. Then they disappeared onto the pavement and to Jessie’s car.

  I closed the front door. Adrian and Paula appeared in the hall from the living room. ‘Has Beth gone?’ Paula asked. ‘I didn’t say goodbye.’

  ‘They were in a rush,’ I said. ‘You’ll see her later. She’ll be back before your bedtime. And Adrian,’ I said, ‘when Beth comes home please don’t say anything about what she is wearing.’

  ‘Why not?’ he asked.

  ‘Let’s just say it’s not what I would have chosen, but I don’t want her upset.’

  ‘Sure, Mum, I promise I won’t say a word.’

  ‘Good boy.’

  Chapter Ten

  Calm Before the Storm

  True to his promise, Adrian didn’t say a word when at six fifteen I answered the front door and Beth stepped in. I heard him gasp in amazement and then, clamping his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh, he ran upstairs to his room. Beth thankfully didn’t see, while Paula, standing beside me, stared at Beth open-mouthed.

  ‘You look like a lady,’ Paula said.

  A lady of the night, I thought, for Beth’s lipstick had smudged and her mascara had run, creating black rings around her eyes.

  ‘Did you have a nice time?’ I asked Beth kindly as she began taking off her coat.

  ‘We played lots of games,’ she said. ‘There were some strange people there, but they were friendly. Daddy bought me two chocolate bars from the trolley that came round.’

  I smiled. ‘Are you coming in?’ I asked Jessie, who was still standing in the porch. ‘I could make you a coffee.’

  ‘No, I must be getting home,’ Jessie said, although she didn’t immediately say goodbye or turn to leave.

  ‘Sure?’ I asked. ‘I could make it a quick coffee.’ I would also have liked some feedback on how the contact had gone.

  ‘No, thank you,’ Jessie said. She took a breath as though she was about to ask me something, but changed her mind.

  ‘Will Beth be visiting her father again soon?’ I asked. I thought that next time I would be better prepared in respect of her clothes and make-up.

  ‘Yes, I would think so, although it will depend on when Derek is discharged.’ Jessie hesitated again and then said: ‘I’ll telephone you when I have any details.’

  ‘And the evening went well?’ I asked.

  ‘They enjoyed themselves,’ she said.

  Jessie threw me a quick smile, said goodbye and returned down the garden path. I closed the front door. I thought she seemed a bit preoccupied, but I didn’t give it any more thought. It was Friday – the end of the working week – and she was probably very tired.

  Before I gave Beth her dinner I persuaded her to go to the bathroom and wash off her make-up. She did so, and without being asked also changed out of her dress and into her nightwear. She said she didn’t want to spoil her dress by dropping her dinner down it. Beth was very sensible when it came to such matters, more like a woman than a child. Once she’d finished ea
ting, she asked me if it was time to phone her daddy. It was nearly seven o’clock, but I’d assumed that, having just seen her father, she wouldn’t telephone him again until the following evening.

  ‘Daddy wants me to phone,’ she added.

  Jessie hadn’t said not to telephone, so at seven o’clock Beth, Paula and I went upstairs and into my bedroom where I dialled the hospital and then passed the telephone to Beth. Paula and I went into the bathroom where I bathed her as Beth talked to her father. Beth was still very excited from seeing him and chatted gaily about the games they’d played – snakes and ladders, draughts, cards and some games I wasn’t familiar with. I heard her tell him that she didn’t like the lady who’d kept making funny noises, but the men were friendly. I guessed that contact had taken place either on the ward or in a common room where other patients had been present. As with the previous evenings, when Beth had finished talking to her father she joined Paula for a bedtime story in her room. She was still in very good spirits. But later, when it was her bedtime, she grew sad.

  ‘I miss my daddy so much,’ she said, climbing into bed.

  ‘I know you do, love. But you can telephone him again tomorrow, and I’m sure he’ll be better before too long.’

  ‘I sat on his lap and gave him lots of cuddles,’ she said with a small wistful smile.

  ‘You both had a good time then,’ I said.

  ‘We did,’ Beth said. ‘Another man wanted me to sit on his lap, but Jessie said not to.’

  ‘Was Jessie with you and Daddy the whole time?’ I asked out of interest.

  ‘Yes, but she went to get a coffee. I wish I could stay with my daddy in hospital. His bed is big enough for two.’

  I smiled. ‘I’m sure he’ll be well enough to go home soon,’ I reassured her again, and then I gave her a big hug. ‘You’re going to meet my parents on Sunday,’ I said, trying to divert her attention. ‘We’re going to visit them. They live in the country.’

  Beth brightened up a little. ‘Is it a special occasion?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is.’

  ‘I’ll wear my red dress then, with my lacy tights and high-heeled shoes.’

  Oh dear, I thought. I walked right into that one. ‘You’ll need something a bit warmer and more practical,’ I said diplomatically. ‘We usually go to the park or for a walk in the woods when we visit. I’ll help you choose something to wear.’

  ‘OK,’ Beth said easily and snuggled down into the bed.

  ‘And Beth, love,’ I said, ‘I don’t want you wearing any make-up while you’re staying with me. I know your father doesn’t mind, but I don’t like it.’ I thought it best to deal with the matter now.

  ‘Why don’t you like it?’ Beth asked.

  ‘I don’t like make-up on children,’ I said. ‘I think children are beautiful enough already. They don’t need make-up.’

  Beth considered this for a moment. ‘Will Paula wear make-up when she’s older?’

  ‘Not until she is much, much older – a teenager, and then only a little if she really wants to. Now, off to sleep, love,’ I said, adjusting the duvet. ‘You’ve had a busy day. You can have a lie-in tomorrow. It’s Saturday and there’s no school.’

  Beth smiled. ‘Daddy and me have a lie-in at the weekends. We stay in bed and have big cuddles. Then he makes us breakfast and we have it in bed. Do you do that here?’

  ‘Not usually,’ I said, and serving the children breakfast in bed wasn’t something I wanted to start. ‘But when you go home I’m sure you’ll have breakfast in bed again.’

  Beth nodded and, turning onto her side, slid the photograph of her father from beneath the pillow. She kissed it goodnight and then returned it to under her pillow. I tucked Mr Sleep Bear in beside her.

  ‘Sleep tight,’ I said, giving her a kiss.

  ‘I will.’ Beth smiled.

  I came out, leaving Beth’s bedroom door slightly ajar, as she liked it. I checked on Adrian and Paula who, also tired at the end of the week, were sound asleep. I went downstairs, made myself a cup of tea and then sat in the living room. The house seemed very quiet – uncannily quiet for a Friday evening. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent one alone. John was usually home by now and we always had plenty to talk about, especially if he’d been working away. Sometimes we opened a bottle of wine and enjoyed a glass each as we sat chatting and exchanging our news. Now it was just Toscha and me, and I suddenly felt very alone. As if sensing my feelings, Toscha jumped down from where she was curled on her favourite chair and onto my lap. I stroked her soft fur as she circled, before settling into a ball and purring gently.

  I stroked her and sipped my tea and wondered what John was doing. I guessed he’d probably finished another working dinner by now and had returned to his hotel room and might be watching television. I thought he was probably feeling lonely too and that he might telephone. John didn’t like living in hotels. He’d said more than once that hotels were great for holidays, but quickly lost their appeal if you were incarcerated in them every evening after work. I knew he would have come home if it had been at all possible. I also worried that he was working too hard. At home he could relax and unwind over the weekend so that he could start the new week refreshed. Now he would lurch from one working week into the next. Poor John, I thought, alone in his hotel room and wishing he was at home with me, just as I was wishing he was sitting beside me on the sofa. I considered opening a bottle of wine, but decided it wouldn’t be the same without John.

  Typical of many young children, having been given the opportunity of a lie-in, on Saturday morning Adrian, Paula and Beth were awake even earlier than on a school day. Wanting to make the most of every minute of the weekend, they were all out of their beds and playing by seven o’clock. They stayed in their dressing gowns, playing in their bedrooms, while I showered and dressed. Then I made us all a cooked breakfast. As we sat at the table enjoying eggs, bacon, sausage and tomatoes, Beth told Adrian and Paula that she had a cooked breakfast at the weekends too, and that her daddy brought it to her in bed.

  ‘You have breakfast in bed every weekend?’ Adrian asked.

  Beth nodded.

  ‘Don’t you go getting any ideas,’ I said to Adrian with a smile. ‘The only time you have breakfast in bed is on your birthday or if you’re ill.’

  ‘Not keen anyway,’ he said, pulling a face. ‘All those toast crumbs, it’s like sand in the bed.’

  I laughed.

  ‘My daddy brings my breakfast on a tray,’ Beth said, ‘so I don’t get crumbs in the bed. And if I spill my juice, he doesn’t mind, he just changes the sheets.’

  Derek was clearly a very indulgent and tolerant father, although I wasn’t sure it was right to spoil a child so much; she could grow up to be self-centred and expecting to be pampered all the time. I supposed it was different if you just had one child. If you had more than one then you treated them all the same and time simply didn’t allow for pampering them all to the extent that Beth’s father pampered her.

  The morning was cold again but bright, so after breakfast I suggested that once they were dressed we could go to the park for a while. The children were enthusiastic and helped clear away the breakfast things, and then we went upstairs to get ready. I intended to choose something appropriate for Beth to wear. Adrian lived in joggers or jeans at the weekend and knew what to wear. Paula came with me into Beth’s room, where I opened her wardrobe door and took out two tracksuits that I remembered unpacking, but which she’d never worn.

  ‘Can’t I wear a dress?’ Beth asked.

  ‘They’re not really practical for playing in the park on a cold day,’ I said. ‘These are perfect, and they look brand new.’

  ‘They are,’ Beth said. ‘I haven’t worn them.’

  ‘They’re both lovely. Which one would you like to wear today?’ I asked. ‘The blue or pink?’ I held up the tracksuits and Beth looked from one to the other.

  ‘The pink one,’ she said at last.

  ‘Excelle
nt choice,’ I said. ‘And you can wear the blue one when we visit my parents tomorrow.’ Which neatly solved that problem too.

  I took out warm socks and a vest for Beth as she took some pants from her drawer. All Beth’s clothes were in very good condition and many of them seemed brand new. I thought that Derek must spend a lot on clothes for Beth, perhaps indulging her wishes in this as he did in other things. I left Beth to get ready and went with Paula to help her wash and dress. Half an hour later we were all downstairs and in the hall, wrapped up warm in our coats, scarves and gloves, ready to go to the park. Adrian was bringing his football and I’d asked Beth if she wanted to take a ball or skipping rope or a scooter to the park, but she didn’t. She added that she didn’t often go to the park as parks were for children. I didn’t state the obvious and I was pleased Adrian didn’t either.

  Outside the weather was crisp and cold and quite beautiful. The wintry sun shone from a clear blue sky, causing the remaining frost to sparkle like magic. We walked to our local park where Beth and Adrian ran off to the play equipment – swings, seesaw, roundabout – while I took Paula to the area for younger children and helped her on and off the little rocking horse and then the baby swings, which she loved, although I wasn’t allowed to call them ‘baby swings’. ‘They’re big-girl swings,’ she said indignantly. ‘Just smaller.’ Which is what I’d told her before.

  We were in the park for over an hour. I’d taken my camera with me and I took plenty of photographs of the children playing. When my hands and feet grew cold and the children’s noses glowed red, I suggested we return home for a hot chocolate. The children asked for one last swing and then we left.

  As we stepped into the hall I saw that the light on the answerphone was flashing, showing a message had been recorded. I pressed play and John’s voice came through. The children paused from taking off their coats. ‘Hi, kids, sorry I missed you. I expect you’re out shopping with your mother. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. I’ll try to telephone during the week. Be good. See you next weekend. Love Dad.’

  The line went dead and the answerphone clicked off. I could tell from Adrian’s and Paula’s expressions that they were pleased to hear their father’s voice, but sad that they’d missed his call. ‘Perhaps he’ll telephone again later today,’ Adrian said hopefully.