Daddy’s Little Princess and Will You Love Me 2-in-1 Collection. Cathy Glass

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.

      ‘Excellent 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 СКАЧАТЬ