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Daddy’s Little Princess. Cathy GlassЧитать онлайн книгу.

Daddy’s Little Princess - Cathy Glass


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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.

       Guilty

      ‘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 allowed to play with children her own age away from school, or go to their birthday parties, or go on school outings. Miss Willow told me.’

      ‘Yes, I know, and I’ve told Derek that Beth needs to start taking advantage of all aspects of the curriculum, including educational visits and after-school activities.’

      I knew I wasn’t handling this well, but I continued. ‘Since Beth has been with me, I’ve noticed she talks constantly about her father. And she’s brought fifteen framed photographs with her. All of her and her father.’

      ‘That’s nice,’ Jessie said.

      ‘But there’s something not right about the photographs. Their poses are more like two adults than father and daughter.’

      ‘I saw most of the photographs as Beth packed them. They seemed all right to me. They’ve got their clothes on. What’s wrong with them?’

      ‘It’s the way they’re cuddling and smiling at each other. It makes me feel uncomfortable.’

      There was silence on the other end of the telephone and I could guess what Jessie was thinking. I knew I wasn’t handling this correctly, but it was so difficult to put my concerns into words.

      ‘Some of the things Beth and her father say to each other don’t seem right,’ I said. ‘They are too lovey-dovey. And Marianne has to sleep in Beth’s bed when she stays the night and Beth sleeps with her father.’

      ‘Isn’t that because Marianne’s relationship with Derek has ended and is simply friendship again?’ Jessie said. ‘I guess she sleeps in Beth’s bed or on the couch.’ Which again was true.

      I went to the next point in my notes. ‘When my husband was here at the weekend, at bedtime Beth wanted him to lie on her bed and cuddle her like her father did.’

      ‘And did he?’

      ‘I told him not to.’

      ‘So you dealt with the matter?’

      ‘Yes. But there are other things.’

      ‘Go on.’

      ‘Beth is more like a wife to Derek than a daughter. She has a lot of responsibility. You saw it yourself when you took her home for her things before you brought her here. She was worried about the washing and the food in the fridge spoiling. I’ve had to reassure her that I take care of that sort of thing here. Add my concerns to Marianne’s and Miss Willow’s and there’s definitely something not right,’ I finished lamely.

      There was a pause before Jessie asked: ‘Are you suggesting that Derek is abusing his daughter?’

      ‘No. Well, possibly. I don’t know. But I think someone needs to look into it.’

      There was another pause before Jessie said formally, ‘Mrs Glass, I really don’t think there is any cause for concern, but I’m planning on seeing Derek in hospital this evening if I can leave the office in time. I’ll raise your concerns with him then and see what he has to say.’

      ‘No, don’t do that,’ I blurted. ‘I mean, I don’t want you to say that I said these things.’

      ‘How else am I to approach the matter? The poor man has a right to know what he is being accused of and to have the chance to defend himself.’

      At that


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