Chapter 12
12
CRYSTAL
I couldn’t stop thinking about Poppy for the rest of the weekend. Her pretty little face, her beautiful hair, her smile, her energy, her enthusiasm, her spirit. She was such a lovely child. She was exactly how I imagined she would be. And she took to me, I knew she did. I didn’t even have to try to win her round, it was completely natural, as if we belonged together.
But I knew, too, that I couldn’t allow myself to get carried away. It was obvious that Gemma had been surprised at how well Poppy and I had got on together. I was aware that it was quite unusual for a child to take so naturally to an adult they’d never met before. It was just proof, if I’d needed any, that Poppy and I had a close spiritual link.
But Gemma had enjoyed meeting up too. She’d said it gave her a nice break from doing chores, that it made a change for her to spend time with a friend – so it was quite logical to suggest doing it again the following Saturday, and she seemed really happy to agree. If she hadn’t done, I’d have had to take a step back. It was still early days, and if at any time Gemma decided to pull back, for whatever reason – to want to spend less time with me – I supposed I’d have to accept it. Accept, perhaps, not seeing Poppy again. But now that I’d met her, I wasn’t too sure I’d be able to.
Was I already getting in too deep? I thought about it, tried to rationalise it to myself. I was only trying to help, wasn’t I? I wasn’t doing any harm. I’d never want to hurt Gemma, or Poppy of course. But was it really the right thing to do – inveigling myself into their lives like that? Perhaps I should have just fronted up, come out with my full story, while I still had the chance. Before it went on for so long that it would become impossible to explain why I’d kept quiet about it.
But how would it have sounded, if I’d blurted out the truth at that point? Gemma would have thought I was some kind of stalker, that I had ulterior motives, that I was a threat, not to be trusted. No, it was better, I decided, to continue as we were. I was Crystal – it wasn’t a complete lie, anyway, it was the name I’d been given in the self-help group – and she knew nothing about my past. I was just a friend, a childless, lonely friend who knew how it felt to be dumped. A kindly ‘auntie’ to Poppy and a support to her mum. I didn’t see how I could be criticised for that, so I didn’t understand why – in my darkest moments, alone in my bed at night – I still felt a pang of conscience. A pang I had to try hard to ignore.