I could see Marianne was as surprised as I was by Beth’s comment. For Beth to have accepted this so early was far more than we could have hoped for. Marianne was flustered and didn’t know what to say for a moment, and then she recovered and said hello to Adrian and Paula.
‘Do you remember me?’ she asked Paula.
‘You’re the lady who brought Beth’s swimming costume,’ Paula said a little shyly. So she did remember.
‘That’s right,’ Marianne said. ‘It seems a long time ago now.’
While I made a cup of tea, Marianne and Derek talked to all three children, asking them about school and what they liked to do in their spare time. When I returned with the tray of tea and biscuits, Adrian asked if he could go and play, which he could – he didn’t have to stay with us. Paula wanted to stay.
As we drank our tea we made light conversation, as Jessie had suggested. Beth was sitting on the sofa between her father and Marianne. I’d never seen the three of them together before and not only was it touching, it also seemed very right. There was a strong familial resemblance between Derek and Beth, but Marianne didn’t look so different to Beth in colouring and features – she could have been her natural mother. I also noted that the Beth I now saw sitting beside her father was very different to the images in the photographs upstairs, where she was wearing make-up, skimpy clothes and posing suggestively. Now she was just a little girl, dressed appropriately and sitting beside her father who clearly loved her.
Presently, Marianne took a packet of photographs from her handbag. At the planning meeting Jessie had suggested that they bring some recent photographs of themselves and the flat to show Beth. Marianne began going through them and Beth held up each one for Paula and me to see. The first was of Derek and Marianne sitting on a bench in a park and enjoying the sun. The others were of their flat, which they’d thoroughly redecorated since Beth had been living there. Marianne said a bit about each photograph, and when they came to the last one – of Beth’s bedroom – Beth’s eyes rounded and her mouth fell open in astonishment.
‘Wow!’ she said.
‘I know that’s your favourite colour,’ Marianne said a little shyly. ‘I chose the wallpaper, curtains and duvet to match. I hope you like it.’
‘Wow!’ Beth said again, for once rendered speechless.
Paula and I didn’t wait for Beth to hold up the photograph but went over for a closer look.
‘You’ve got a lovely bedroom,’ Paula said.
‘You’re a very lucky girl,’ I said.
Marianne smiled. She’d obviously put a lot of work into decorating and refurbishing Beth’s room. From the photographs, I could see that it was a lovely young-girl’s room painted in pale lilac, with soft furnishings to match. There was a large lilac-tinted toy box in one corner overflowing with Beth’s toys. Neatly arranged on the shelves were Beth’s books, cuddlies and other knick-knacks that litter girls’ bedrooms.
‘It wasn’t as nice as that before,’ Beth said, clearly impressed and pleased. I thought that, given there’d been issues with Beth not wanting to sleep in her own bed, it was a very good step to refurbish the room. ‘When did you do it?’ she asked her father.
‘When we knew for definite you would be coming home,’ he said. ‘Marianne chose the colour scheme and bought the duvet and curtains, and I did the painting.’
‘It really is lovely,’ I said.
‘When can I see my new room?’ Beth asked excitedly.
‘When you come for your visit on Saturday,’ Marianne said.
‘Can I keep the photograph?’ Beth asked.
‘Yes, they’re all yours. I think they’re better than the ones you have with you here in your room,’ Marianne said, meeting my gaze. I nodded.
‘Would you like to see my bedroom here?’ Beth now asked Marianne, as I thought she might.
‘Yes, please,’ Marianne said.
Beth took Marianne’s hand and led her out of the living room and upstairs while Derek stayed with Paula and me.
‘You’re welcome to go up too,’ I said. ‘Although there’s not an awful lot to see.’
Derek shook his head. ‘No. It’s better if Marianne does the mummy things. I’m taking a bit of a back seat in all of this. I got it badly wrong before, and I’m not going to risk it again. I hope to return to work before too long. And Cathy, can I just take this opportunity to thank you for all you’ve done for Beth. Marianne and I very much appreciate it.’
‘I’m pleased it all worked out,’ I said.
‘So am I. I’m so grateful to be given this second opportunity. I know how lucky I am and how close I came to losing Beth. I won’t mess up this time.’
When Marianne and Beth returned downstairs and into the living room, Beth was carrying a carrier bag. ‘I’m getting rid of my make-up and some of my dressing-up clothes,’ Beth declared.
‘If that’s all right with you?’ Marianne said to Derek and me. ‘Beth, show Cathy and your father what is in the bag.’
Paula and I peered into the bag Beth held open in front of me. I saw the make-up, bottles of different-coloured nail varnish, black fishnet tights and some see-through tops.
‘I’m more than happy for those to go,’ I said.
Beth carried the bag to her father and he looked in. He frowned in anguish at the stark reminder of what had been. ‘Yes, throw them all out,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe I ever thought you looked nice in those things.’
‘Marianne’s going to take me shopping and buy me lots of new clothes,’ Beth said to me.
‘That’ll be nice,’ I said, although I hoped Marianne wouldn’t make the mistake of spoiling Beth too much.
‘We’ll need to replace the clothes we’re getting rid of,’ Marianne explained, and I nodded.
As the hour allowed for the visit drew to a close and it was time for her father and Marianne to leave, Beth begged them to stay longer. Aware of Jessie’s words on the importance of keeping to the timetable, Marianne and I explained to Beth we had to keep to the timetable, and eventually she said goodbye without a fuss. It was important Beth saw us all working together, and we were.
That night, when it was time for bed, Beth ceremoniously ticked off today’s date on her timetable, and then quietly counted the days to the picture of the house when she would be moving home. She didn’t comment, but before she climbed into bed she slid out the photograph of her and her father from under her pillow and placed it face down in a drawer.
‘Marianne and Daddy don’t like these photographs,’ she said. ‘And I don’t now.’
I waited as Beth took one of the new photographs – of Marianne and her father in the park – and, kissing it goodnight, slipped it under her pillow.
‘Night, love,’ I said, tucking her in.
‘Night, Cathy.’ She was tired and happy and fell asleep easily.
The following morning, as soon as I woke Beth she leaped out of bed and checked her timetable. ‘Yes! Daddy and Marianne are phoning me tonight,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell Miss Willow.’
Jessie telephoned later that morning to see how the visit had gone, and I was pleased to be able to tell her that it had gone incredibly well. Jessie had already spoken to Derek and had got his and Marianne’s feedback, so she knew that Beth had introduced Marianne as her mummy. Marianne was at work, but she’d asked Derek to make sure Jessie knew that they’d be getting rid of the photographs Beth had with her in her room and would be framing new ones for the walls of their flat. Jessie told me she’d advised Derek not to get rid of all the photographs, as they formed part of Beth’s history – good and bad.
‘So you’ve got the first joint phone contact tonight,’ Jessie finished by saying. ‘For Marianne and Derek.’
‘Yes. Should I still monitor the call on speakerphone?’ I thought to ask.
‘No,’ Jessie said. ‘Stay in the background in case Beth wants you, but there’s no need to monitor the call. I’m trusting Marianne and Derek with their child, so I’m sure I can trus
t them to make an appropriate phone call. You haven’t go any worries, have you?’
‘No.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Postcard
Beth’s rehabilitation home continued to go well and as planned. Indeed, the speed with which she bonded with Marianne, and re-bonded with her father in an appropriate father–daughter relationship, outstripped all the adults’ expectations. Jessie told me that the therapy had played a part in this, but so too had the time Beth had spent with my family, as it had shown her what having a mother could mean, and the joys of being part of a two-parent family and having a family life. Beth was now allowing Marianne and her father to make this happen for her in a way she hadn’t before. And, of course, Derek and Marianne also now had confidence in their ability to parent Beth.
By the middle of June we were over halfway through the timetable of Beth’s rehabilitation home. The previous weekend she’d spent Saturday and Sunday at home, but had returned to us to sleep. The next weekend Beth would be staying overnight for the first time. Jessie had suggested I leave Adrian and Paula at home with their father while I took and collected Beth, so that I could give her my undivided attention. Adrian and Paula would have an opportunity to see Beth’s home once she had moved in.
Marianne, Derek and I had been working closely together, and they knew they could ask me if they had any questions. I’d already given them a written outline of Beth’s routine, which they were going to follow – at least to begin with – so that Beth didn’t have too many changes all at once. Beth had told them which foods she liked and didn’t like, although in truth she was a good eater and, apart from Brussels sprouts and cabbage, happily ate most foods. Marianne telephoned me late on Wednesday evening worried that Beth might not want to sleep in her own bed. Beth had seen her newly furbished bedroom when she’d visited the previous weekend and had absolutely loved it, and had spent time playing in it. But Marianne was now concerned that when it came to actually sleeping in her bed, she might refuse and insist on sleeping with her father, as she had done when she’d lived there before. We all knew this couldn’t be allowed to happen.
‘Start as you mean to go on,’ I said to Marianne. ‘Once you’ve established a bedtime routine, it will be much easier. You’ve already decided that Derek will be reading Beth her bedtime story in your living room, and then you’re taking Beth for her bath and to bed, so keep to that. Check whether she wants her curtains fully drawn and her bedroom door closed or open. These little details can be important in helping a child to settle at night. I usually leave a night-light on the landing, as many children don’t like the dark. Once Beth’s in bed and you’ve said goodnight, come out. You may have to go in and resettle her, or take her back to bed if she gets out, but don’t be tempted to let her go into your bed, or into the living room to watch more television. If you do it once, she’ll expect it in the future. Keep to your routine, kindly but firmly, and I’m sure she’ll soon settle.’
‘Thank you,’ Marianne said. ‘I’m just a bit nervous.’
‘Of course you are. It’s to be expected. You may also think about giving Beth a cuddly toy to take to bed, like the Mr Sleep Bear I showed you. I’m afraid I can’t let Beth take him, as he was a present to Adrian, but one of Beth’s favourite soft toys will do just as well. Use the same toy every night and she’ll soon associate it with sleep.’
Marianne gave a small laugh. ‘Beth didn’t own many cuddly toys, so I’ve bought her one that looks a little bit like Mr Sleep Bear. I might tell her it’s his brother.’
I laughed too. ‘Nice one,’ I said. ‘You’ll be fine.’
So everything was going very well, not only with Beth, but also with my life in general. I often thought how lucky I was. I had two happy, healthy children, a loving husband, wonderful parents and enough money that we didn’t have to worry constantly about paying the next bill. I appreciated how lucky I was and I assumed my life would continue in the same way. Why shouldn’t it? There was no reason for it not to, or so I thought. Perhaps there’s a barometer of happiness that registers when you’ve been happy for too long and brings you back in line. I suppose those who have a religion say they are being tested at difficult times. But whatever the reason, when events took the turn they did, I didn’t understand any of it. Nor did I know how I would cope.
It was Thursday lunchtime, the day after Marianne had called, when the telephone rang. As I picked up the handset I thought it might be Marianne again, or Jessie asking for an update – she often telephoned about midday.
‘Hello,’ I said brightly.
I was surprised to hear John’s voice. ‘Hello, Cathy,’ he said, his tone a little flat. ‘I won’t be coming home this weekend.’
‘Oh dear. Not at all?’
‘No. We both need time to think.’
I hesitated, thinking I’d misheard. ‘Sorry?’ I said.
‘We both need time to think about the future,’ he repeated in the same flat voice.
‘Do we?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘Yes. We need to think what is best for us in the long term.’ I felt the slightest twinge of unease, but I knew this would pass once I understood what John meant.
‘Surely we can think about the future when you are home?’ I said. ‘It would be better to plan any changes together, wouldn’t it?’
There was a pause before he said: ‘Let’s not play games, Cathy. We both know what I mean. We haven’t been getting on for some time now. We’ve drifted apart, and it’s obviously time to call it quits. I hope we can be adult about this.’
The unease I’d felt exploded into fear, yet I was hearing the words without fully understanding their meaning. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I said, my voice distant and unreal.
‘Oh come on, Cathy,’ John said. ‘I can’t put it any simpler. We need to start divorce proceedings as soon as possible. We’ll both be happier once everything is sorted out.’
The walls tilted and a loud buzzing noise filled my ears as the floor began to rise up and engulf me. I thought I was going to faint, and Paula was in the house. I mustn’t faint. I’d taken the call in the hall, and I sat heavily in the chair by the telephone table and tried to catch my breath.
‘So I think it’s best if we have a few weekends apart,’ John was saying on the other end of the phone. ‘It’s only natural for us to feel hurt that it didn’t work out, but we don’t want to say things we may later regret. You may want to talk to your parents. That’s OK, but don’t let them persuade you into doing something that isn’t helpful. We’ll sell the house and both find new places. Paula starts nursery in September, so you’ll be able to go back to work then.’
I fought for some words; they weren’t easy to find. ‘When did you decide all this?’ I asked, my voice shaking.
‘One of us has to plan ahead,’ he said. ‘I’m going to take two weeks’ holiday and I suggest you do the same.’
‘I thought we were going on holiday together,’ I said stupidly. I wasn’t thinking straight and ‘holiday’ was one of the few words I understood.
‘We need time apart,’ he said. ‘I’ve booked to go away. I suggest you take the children and stay with your parents for a few days.’
‘They’ve got school, and please don’t keep telling me what I should do,’ I said, fear morphing into anger. ‘We have children. They’re our responsibility. You can’t just go away for two weeks. What about Adrian and Paula? You should come home so we can talk about what’s wrong and sort it out. I’m sure it can be put right.’ I was desperate.
‘There’s nothing to sort out,’ John said. ‘And it won’t help if we argue. I’ll say goodbye now and give you time to calm down. I’ll phone when I return from holiday. Give my love to the children, and please don’t try to turn them against me. It’s a joint decision to separate. I’ll still see the children regularly. Goodbye.’
He hung up. I went into the kitchen and was violently sick in the sink.
Presently Paula came to find me. ‘Wh
at’s the matter, Mummy?’ she said worried.
‘It’s nothing for you to worry about, love. I’m not feeling so good.’
I wiped my mouth, had a drink of cold water and then took Paula into the living room, where I switched on children’s day-time television. I left it on for the rest of the afternoon.
I’m not someone who usually goes into denial; I usually confront any problems I may have, but not then. This was far too big to face. I didn’t cry, and I didn’t tell anyone – not even my parents or my good friend Kay. I was in shock, numb, and part of me didn’t accept what John had said. Perhaps after his holiday he’d come home refreshed and apologize, and we’d carry on as normal. He’d been working too hard, a two-week holiday was what he needed to set him right again. Also, I had the children to look after, and it wasn’t long before I had to collect Adrian and Beth from school, then the evening meal to make, homework to help with and the bath and bedtime routine. I didn’t have time to think. I had the children to see to.
The following day I steeled myself to tell Adrian and Paula that their daddy wouldn’t be coming home at the weekend. They assumed he was working, and I didn’t tell them any different. I telephoned Jessie and left a message on her answerphone to say that Adrian and Paula would be coming with me when I took Beth home for her weekend stay, as John was working away. I didn’t feel I could ask a friend to look after my children at the weekend, and also I felt I needed to keep them close to me, to make sure they were safe. My world had crumbled with John’s words and I felt threatened. I wanted my children close.
I telephoned Marianne and told her I’d be bringing Adrian and Paula with me. ‘That’s fine,’ she said. ‘We’ll look forward to seeing you all on Saturday, at about ten o’clock.’
‘Yes, see you then,’ I said.
Outwardly, therefore, I continued as normal. I talked, I ate (though not a lot), I took the children to school, collected them, helped them with their homework, did the housework, and then on Friday I packed Beth’s overnight bag ready for Saturday, all the time ignoring the huge dark cloud that hung over me, ready to descend and engulf me at any moment.