Authors: Cathy Glass
‘Daddy!’ Danny yelled, running the length of the hall into his arms.
Richard scooped him up and held him high above his head and they both laughed. What a difference to their last meeting, I thought, when Richard had barely been able to look at his son and couldn’t wait to get away.
‘We’ve had dinner, but I can easily fix you something,’ I offered.
‘I’m good, thanks, Cathy. I left work early so I’ve had time to go home first, change and grab a bite to eat.’
Richard set Danny down and then slipped off his jacket and hung it on the hall stand.
‘Daddy,’ Danny said, tugging at his arm.
‘So, Mister,’ Richard said, turning to Danny, and using the same term Lucy sometimes used, ‘Mummy tells me we do your homework first and then I read you a story before you have your bath.’
Danny looked impressed, and also a little bemused.
‘I take it George has been fed?’ Richard asked me.
‘Yes. Danny does that straight after his dinner.’
‘Great. Come on then, little man, let’s get that homework done and we may have time for a game as well as a story.’
Danny didn’t need telling twice and, picking up his school bag, he slipped his hand into his father’s and led him down the hall into the living room. I went with them but left them to it once they were settled. ‘Call me if you need me,’ I said.
‘Thank you, Cathy.’
Over the next hour – as Danny did his homework, played a game of toy cars with his father, which involved Richard on all fours making brum-brum noises, and then listened to a bedtime story – I kept largely out of their way. The door to the living room was open so I could hear them, and I was on hand to help if necessary. I popped in every so often, but clearly Reva had passed on much of the work we’d been doing together, and other than getting Danny over-excited (when I had to calm him down), there were no problems. Richard’s attitude to Danny was so very different from the last time I’d seen them together, when he’d appeared distant and afraid to engage with his son. Now I saw the commitment Reva had spoken of. Richard was embracing parenting Danny and accepting his quirks and differences. I also saw a very different side to Richard the person as well as the father – good-humoured and ready for a joke. Adrian, Lucy and Paula were in the house and at various times went into the living room to say hi to Richard. Each time Danny pointed to his father and said proudly, ‘My daddy.’
At seven o’clock Richard came to find me. He was holding Danny’s hand. ‘I think it’s time for Danny’s bath,’ he said.
‘Yes. I usually take him up about now.’
‘Lead on then, please,’ he said, ‘and show me what to do.’ Then to Danny he said, ‘I’m going to bath you today.’ Excellent, I thought, and Danny grinned, just like his father.
‘Be prepared – it does take a while,’ I said lightly as we began upstairs.
‘I know,’ Richard said. ‘Reva used to tell me what a battle it was to get him into bed. She was exhausted by the end of it, but then I was never home to help her. I will be in future. I didn’t realize how much she struggled. I put all her problems down to drinking.’
‘And she’s stopped drinking now?’ I asked.
‘Oh yes. Reva was never a heavy drinker. She began drinking as a way of coping, but of course it just made her feel worse. Most of our arguments were a result of that.’
I nodded.
Richard and I stood on the landing and continued talking while Danny used the toilet and washed his hands. ‘Good boy,’ I said as he came out. We waited some more as he collected his pyjamas from his bedroom and I praised him again.
Danny was pretty excited as the three of us went round the landing to the bathroom – he skipped and hopped and jumped.
‘Steady on, Mister,’ Richard said. But I could see he was pleased that Danny was so happy at having his father there.
In the bathroom Danny spent some time meticulously folding his pyjamas and adjusting his towel on the towel rail until it was to his liking. I saw Richard watching him, but he didn’t comment.
‘Patience is the key,’ I said quietly with a smile.
‘I know, I’m learning,’ Richard said.
I put the plug into the bath and turned on the taps. ‘I always run the water to the right temperature,’ I said. ‘And I never leave Danny unattended in the bath, not even for a minute.’
Richard looked serious. ‘Reva says he tries to drown himself.’
‘It’s more of a game,’ I said. ‘But I don’t encourage it, and it frightens Reva.’
‘That’s why she didn’t want him to go swimming, but I understand he’s doing all right in swimming at school.’
‘Yes. He really enjoys it now. You could try taking him swimming when he’s home, or even to the seaside,’ I suggested. ‘There are so many new experiences Danny hasn’t tried yet.’
‘There’s a lot we can and will be doing,’ Richard confirmed, which I was pleased to hear.
Danny usually undressed himself, but now his father was here he wanted his help and held up his arms so that Richard could take off his jersey.
‘What do you say to Daddy?’ I asked Danny, as usual trying to encourage him to talk more.
‘Daddy do it,’ he said.
‘Good boy,’ Richard and I chorused together.
Richard helped Danny out of his jersey and then his vest, and then Danny took off his other clothes by himself. Once the bath was full I turned off the taps and tipped in Danny’s bath toys. Richard put his hands under Danny’s armpits and lifted him over the edge of the bath into the water. He landed with a large splash, which splattered water down the front of Richard’s smart shirt.
‘Best not to wear your good clothes for baths and hair washing in future,’ I quipped.
‘Point taken,’ Richard said good-humouredly.
Danny sat happily in his bath and began playing with his toys. ‘I usually wash his back and hair while he is occupied playing,’ I explained to Richard.
Rolling up his shirt sleeves Richard knelt beside the bath. ‘It’s a long time since I gave you a bath, Mister,’ he admitted to Danny.
Danny laughed, but I think it was in response to the duck he was playing with rather than what his father had said, for I doubted ‘a long time’ was a concept for him.
I passed Richard the sponge and bath lotion and he began gently washing Danny’s back, then his neck and chest. ‘Give Danny the sponge and he’ll do the rest,’ I said to Richard. When Danny had finished washing he meticulously squeezed out the sponge and set it on the side of the bath. ‘Good boy,’ I said.
‘Now his hair,’ I said to Richard, who was looking as though he’d finished. ‘Wet his hair with this.’ I passed him the plastic beaker, and also Danny’s face flannel. ‘Hold the flannel against his forehead; it’ll keep the water out of his eyes.’ For a moment Richard looked between the flannel and the beaker as though he didn’t know what to do. ‘Come on,’ I said jokingly. ‘It’s not rocket science.’
‘But you know us blokes can’t multi-task,’ he laughed. Danny laughed too.
Richard did as I suggested and, placing the flannel against Danny’s forehead with one hand, began scooping up water in the beaker with the other. Danny was so engrossed in playing with his toys that he didn’t appear to mind his father’s rather clumsy attempts at hair washing. Once Danny’s hair was thoroughly wet I passed Richard the bath lotion. ‘Just a little squirt onto his head,’ I told him.
Richard applied the bath lotion to Danny’s hair, but as he began massaging it into Danny’s scalp it must have felt different to his mother’s or my touch, because Danny looked up, startled. ‘Daddy washing my hair?’ he asked, touching his father’s hand on his head to make sure.
‘Yes, I am,’ Richard said. ‘Keep nice and still. Good boy.’
Telling Danny to keep still if he had other plans was like asking an eel to stop wriggling. As Richard tried to shampoo Danny’s hair he kept ducking and moving his head from side to side so that his father had to chase it around. Danny laughed loudly and Richard smiled. It was lovely to see father and son having fun together, and to see Richard playing so unreservedly. He didn’t seem to mind that the front of his shirt was covered in globules of foam. But I also knew how frustrating these games could be if you were tired and just wanted to get Danny into bed at the end of a busy day.
‘I’ll wear my wetsuit next time,’ Richard joked.
‘Like my diving man,’ Danny said.
Once Richard had finished shampooing Danny’s hair I passed him the plastic beaker and flannel again and he carefully began rinsing the lotion from Danny’s hair. ‘I’ve tried using the shower head and that shampoo shield,’ I said, ‘but Danny doesn’t like them. I’ve found this method works best.’
Richard nodded and concentrated on rinsing Danny’s hair.
‘Good boy,’ I said.
‘Me or Danny?’ Richard laughed.
‘Both of you,’ I smiled.
I’d just reached for Danny’s towel so that Richard could towel-dry Danny’s hair in the bath before he got out when, without warning, Danny threw himself back and went under the water. Richard started. I guessed it was the first time he’d seen Danny do this.
‘Stay calm,’ I said quietly to him. ‘He’ll come up soon.’
We waited, both looking at Danny, who had his eyes and mouth shut and lay motionless under the water. After what seemed like an eternity he rose like a fish breaking through the water. ‘Danny drowning!’ he exclaimed, and looked at his father for his reaction.
While Richard’s face didn’t register panic or alarm as Reva’s had, I could see it had shocked him.
‘Do you know why he does it?’ he asked me.
‘No. Do you?’
He shook his head as Danny jettisoned himself back into the water again. He stayed under for longer this time and when he came up he looked directly at his father and said firmly, ‘Danny drowning,’ as if challenging Richard to say different.
‘No, you’re not drowning,’ I said evenly, as I’d said before when Danny had done this. ‘You’re playing.’
Richard had gone very quiet and his face was set and serious. I wondered if he was going to tell Danny off. I didn’t want such a positive bath-time experience going sour, so I thought it was time to bring it to a close and get Danny out of the bath. ‘Danny, it’s time to dry yourself,’ I said.
Danny threw himself under the water for a third time, staying submerged for as long as he could hold his breath, and then came up spluttering and gave the same challenging look. ‘Danny drowning!’ he said to his father.
He was just going under for a fourth time when Richard suddenly leant forward and, plunging his hands into the water, grabbed Danny and scooped him up. Danny looked surprised but didn’t cry out. I quickly put the towel under his dripping body and Richard wrapped him in it. He then sat cross-legged on the floor with Danny in his lap and cradled him like a baby. ‘You’re not going to drown, Danny,’ Richard said, holding him close. ‘Daddy is saving you.’
Danny looked up questioningly. ‘Daddy saving Danny?’ he asked in a small voice.
‘Yes, I’m saving you,’ Richard said, kissing his forehead. ‘There’s nothing for you to be afraid of any more. I love you. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you, but I will be in the future. I promise you I will.’
Danny stared up at his father thoughtfully, as though he was finding this difficult to believe. ‘Daddy loves Danny?’ he asked after a moment.
‘Yes,’ Richard said, his voice catching. ‘I love you more than you can ever know.’
‘Danny loves Daddy,’ he said. ‘Danny happy.’ He reached up and gently wiped the tear away from his father’s eye. ‘Don’t cry. We’re happy.’
‘I promise you, we will be,’ Richard said. And I knew he meant it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I couldn’t tell Danny that he was going home until Terri telephoned me to confirm that he was, so Danny went to school on Monday morning as usual, and when I collected him I was able to tell him the good news.
‘Danny going home?’ he repeated. ‘Danny going home?’
‘Yes, Mummy and Daddy are coming to collect you from my house in an hour,’ I explained as we walked to the car. ‘I’ve packed all your clothes and toys ready.’
‘George?’ Danny asked, immediately concerned.
‘Yes, of course, George will be going home with you.’
Danny thought for a moment and then asked, ‘In your car?’
I was amazed that Danny had remembered I’d collected George in my car. He hadn’t been part of the process. ‘No. Your daddy is bringing his car and your mummy is bringing her car too. The hutch will go on the back seat of your daddy’s car.’
Danny thought again. ‘Two cars?’
‘Yes. Your mummy’s and daddy’s.’
‘Danny going home,’ he repeated quietly. ‘Danny going home.’
As soon as I’d received Terri’s telephone call to say that Danny was definitely going home that day I’d begun to pack his belongings. They were now all bagged and boxed in the hall. George was in his hutch out the back, sitting on clean hay, and I’d collapsed the run so it would fit in Richard’s car as well. Richard had taken the day off work to bring Danny home. Terri had left it to us to arrange the time of Danny’s departure, and when I’d spoken to Richard and Reva that afternoon I’d asked them to come at 4.30 p.m., after Lucy, Adrian and Paula had arrived home from school, so that they had a chance to say goodbye to Danny. My children knew it was likely Danny would be returning home today, so they weren’t completely surprised when they came in from school to find his luggage in the hall.
‘Danny going home,’ he told each of them as they arrived.
‘Yes. Are you happy?’ Paula asked him.
Danny gave a very small nod. I guessed his leaving was bittersweet for him too.
We assembled in the living room and gave Danny his leaving present – a DVD and a large book on rabbits. It had stories and facts about rabbits and beautiful colour photographs of different rabbits, some of whom were just like George, although none were quite as big as him. We also gave Danny a card with a rabbit on the front and I read out the words we’d written inside.
‘Thank you very much,’ Danny said, clearly pleased.
‘You’re welcome,’ I said.
‘You’re welcome,’ Danny repeated.
We stayed in the living room looking at the pictures of the rabbits in Danny’s book until the doorbell rang at 4.30.