Chapter 13
13
GEMMA
‘How’s it going with the CSA?’ Crystal asked me over lunch on Monday. ‘Any luck finding your ex?’
‘Not yet.’ I sighed. ‘They say it could take quite some time, even if they do manage to track him down. I’ve had to give them details of his family, but it doesn’t help that I don’t even know where they live. And even if they find them, can they force them to say where Jack’s gone?’
‘It’s not right, is it? You’d think they ought to be able to… I don’t know… put out a nationwide search for him, get him arrested, or something.’
I shrugged. ‘I think it’s best if I tell myself it’s never going to happen – that I’ll never get any money out of him. Then, if they do ever manage to find him and make him pay, it’ll be a bonus.’
‘You’re a lot more sensible than I’d be. I’d probably be on a plane right now, on my way out there to find his family – his brother or whatever – and force them to tell me where he is.’
‘I can’t. I can’t just take off like that, with Poppy – or leave her behind. And how exactly could I force them – supposing I could even find them?’
‘I’d hire someone to beat them up if they refused to say where he’d gone,’ she said.
I stared at her. ‘No you wouldn’t! You’re not like that. You’re all about peace and light and love!’
‘That would all go out of the window, trust me, if I could find him for you. It makes me so frigging mad to think of him getting away with it – what he’s done to you. He’s Poppy’s father. He’s got responsibilities. How dare he just disappear out of your lives like this?’
I took a sip of my coffee, staring back at her in silence. She’d sounded furious there, almost more furious than I was myself about it. I suppose I’d convinced myself, by then, to more or less give up hope of getting anything from Jack – and to sustain the level of anger I’d felt at the beginning would have taken up way too much of my energy. It would have depleted what little I had left for Poppy, after working at my two different jobs. But even as I sat at the table now watching her, Crystal was pink in the face with her anger, shaking her head, as if her inability to do anything about my situation was eating her up. It was nice that she cared, but… well, I hadn’t quite seen this side of her before.
‘Honestly,’ I said awkwardly, ‘I’m not that stressed about it any more. What’s the point? I mean, I agree with you, it’s not right, of course it isn’t, and I hate Jack for it, yes, I do. But I can’t change the situation, so I have to try to accept it – at least for now, while I wait. The CSA might manage to find him, and if they don’t, I’ve got to get on with it, haven’t I? For Poppy’s sake.’
Crystal let out a long breath of frustration. ‘Yes, of course, I get that. Sorry, I don’t want to make you feel any worse than you must do already.’ She fell silent for a moment and then went on, ‘But I hope you’ll make sure Poppy knows, as she grows up, what a bastard her father was. That’s what I’d do if my ex and I had had any kids – I’d make sure they knew the truth about him.’
‘I… don’t know how I’m going to answer her questions, yet,’ I admitted. ‘She’s so little. She doesn’t often ask after him.’
‘Good.’ She swallowed the remainder of her herbal tea, and finally gave me a smile. ‘She’s such a lovely little girl, I can’t bear to think of her being hurt – or you, of course. To be honest, the way he’s behaved, he didn’t deserve Poppy in the first place. He certainly won’t deserve any loyalty from her if he suddenly decides he wants to see her in the future.’
‘No. I suppose not.’
‘He can hardly call himself a father,’ she added grimly.
‘Well, I guess he’s made up his own mind not to be one any more.’ Frankly, I was beginning to wish she’d shut up about it. I didn’t really need anyone to tell me how badly Jack had behaved. ‘Anyway – come on, we’d better get a move on, we’ve almost gone over our lunch break. Mike’s going to give me his stern look when I get back to the office.’
She grinned. Although she didn’t really know Mike, I’d told her about his frequently repeated maxim that a good manager is like a good father – kind and fair, but stern when necessary.
Crystal didn’t say anything further to me about Jack that week, and I tried to keep off the subject myself. Her forceful anger had made me feel uncomfortable – although on the other hand, I supposed it was nice of her to feel such indignance on my behalf. My own feelings seemed to have faded into a kind of stunned apathy, almost to the point that I couldn’t have cared less any more, about anything other than surviving, and keeping Poppy safe and well.
‘You’ll be fine,’ Mum kept telling me. ‘Your dad and I will make sure of it. You and Poppy are going to be fine.’
I wondered whether the reason she felt the need to say it so often was to reassure me – or reassure herself.
Crystal and I repeated our Saturday morning get-together that weekend. I told Poppy, as I was getting her ready to go out, that we’d be meeting Mummy’s friend again.
‘More ice cream?’ she said at once.
‘If you’re good.’
‘I be good. Mummy’s friend get me ice cream.’
‘Her name’s Crystal, Poppy. And please don’t ask her for an ice cream – that would be rude, OK? Mummy will buy one for you today.’
‘I like C’ystal,’ she said happily.
‘CRystal,’ I corrected her. ‘With a R. Like in crayon. ’ I don’t know why it felt important that she got my friend’s name right; I suppose I just knew it would please Crystal.
‘CRRRystal!’ Poppy shouted back at me. ‘I like Crystal. Come on, Mummy. Ice cream, yay!’
Crystal was at the café before us this time, with a cup of tea already in front of her.
‘It was my turn to buy the drinks,’ I protested.
‘I was thirsty, sorry. Can I get you an ice cream again, Poppy?’
‘Yay!’ Poppy yelled. ‘Ice cream!’
‘I’ll buy it,’ I insisted. ‘Will you sit there nicely with Crystal while I go to the counter, please, Poppy?’
‘Come on, Poppy,’ Crystal encouraged her. ‘Come and sit next to me. I do love your T-shirt today. Isn’t it a nice colour? Do you know what colour it is?’
‘BOO!’ Poppy shouted, and Crystal pretended to jump out of her skin, making Poppy fall about laughing.
Pleased to see that they were getting on OK, I left them to it and went to buy the ice cream and my coffee. When I came back, Crystal was in the middle of a deliberately slow and suspenseful performance of ‘Round and Round the Garden’ on Poppy’s hand – much to her delight and anticipated excitement.
‘…and tickle you under there!’ Crystal finished with the usual flourish of tickling.
‘Again! Again!’ Poppy begged after she’d finished squealing.
‘Hang on, Poppy, I’ve got your ice cream now,’ I said. ‘Quickly, sit up nicely on your chair before it starts to melt.’
I was happy, though, to see how well they seemed to have bonded. I thought Poppy had grown out of that tickling rhyme but obviously not. Crystal watched her, smiling, as she began licking the ice cream. She tucked the drip-bowl into a safe position on Poppy’s lap and watched carefully for leaks on the edge of the cornet from Poppy’s enthusiastic slurping.
‘I remembered that rhyme from my own childhood,’ she told me with a grin – just as I was about to ask her how she knew it. ‘And what’s that other one – about a spider?’
‘“Incy Wincy Spider”? Ah, we love that one, don’t we, Poppy? She knows all the actions. No – don’t try to do it now, Pops, you’ll drop your ice cream! Afterwards!’
So as soon as she’d finished – without dropping any, this time – we had to have a session of ‘Incy Wincy Spider’, and then ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes’, followed by ‘I’m a Little Teapot’.
‘This is great!’ Crystal laughed. ‘It’s bringing it all back to me! I used to do all those with my mum when I was little myself.’
‘The old ones are the best,’ I agreed. ‘You sing them at nursery, don’t you, Poppy?’
‘Again!’ Poppy yelled. ‘Teapot again!’
‘Not if we’re going to have time for a paddle,’ I reminded her. ‘Anyway, I think we’ve made enough noise here for today!’
‘Not at all,’ said an elderly lady at the next table. ‘It’s been lovely listening to you all enjoying yourselves, love.’
But the paddle was now firmly fixed in Poppy’s mind, and without needing any more encouragement, she was on her feet, ready to head down to the beach, holding firmly onto her new friend’s hand.
‘Crystal paddle?’ she asked eagerly. ‘Paddle with Poppy?’
‘Well, why not, if you’d like me to?’ Crystal said. ‘Come on, then. Hurry up, before the tide goes out!’
Both of them had their shoes and socks off and were heading into the shallows, still holding hands, before I’d even joined them on the beach.
‘Look, Mummy! Paddle with Crystal!’ my daughter called to me, ecstatic. ‘Come on, Mummy paddle too!’
‘I’ve had such a lovely time,’ Crystal told me as we finally said goodbye a little later. ‘Thank you so much for letting me spend time with you and Poppy.’
‘No, thank you , for helping with her. She’s really taken to you. Say goodbye to Crystal, Poppy.’
‘Bye bye, Crystal,’ Poppy said sadly.
‘See you Monday,’ I said.
‘See you Monday,’ Poppy repeated.
I laughed. ‘ You won’t, pickle! You’ll be at nursery.’
‘Have fun at nursery, Poppy,’ Crystal said, bending down to give her a quick hug. ‘See you again soon, though, I hope.’
‘Next Saturday?’ I suggested. ‘If you’re up for it?’
‘Definitely. Let’s hope it’s nice enough for paddling again, eh, Poppy?’
‘Yay! Paddling! Ice cream!’
We had to sing ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ all the way home. And I had to do ‘Round and Round the Garden’ six times before bedtime that evening. But it was well worth it, to see her so happy, and it was nice to know she was so at ease with my friend.
The following Saturday, though, it was pouring with rain. There was only outdoor seating at the beach café. I waited until half an hour before our usual meeting time to tell Poppy we wouldn’t be going – and Crystal called me at the exact same moment to say we’d better cancel. I wasn’t sure who was the most disappointed.
‘I wanted ice cream!’ Poppy was crying. ‘Wanted Crystal.’
‘Why don’t you come here instead?’ I said to Crystal. ‘If we don’t see you today, Poppy’s going to have a meltdown.’
A little while later, Crystal’s bright green car pulled up outside and she came up the front path wearing a shiny yellow mac over her flowing flowery dress. It was like opening the door and letting in a burst of sunshine. Poppy was immediately full of smiles again – especially when Crystal produced a bag of chocolate buttons from her pocket.
‘Is it OK?’ she checked with me before giving them to Poppy. ‘I took a guess on children still liking these.’
‘You guessed right.’ I smiled. ‘Poppy, let me put some of them in a little dish for you. Then we can save the rest for after lunch. Say thank you to Crystal.’
‘T’ank you. What’s this?’
This was Crystal’s latest fashion accessory – a long leather thong hung around her neck, with a silver Tree of Life medallion dangling on the end of it.
‘It’s my necklace!’ she said. ‘Do you like it, Poppy?’
‘Yes.’ Poppy reached out and fingered it. ‘Tree.’
I left them together while I went into the kitchen to make coffee. When I returned, Crystal was sitting on the sofa with Poppy, telling her a story about a fairy who lived in a tree. I sat down opposite them and just watched for a while – my friend and my daughter. They seemed so natural together. Crystal had her arm around Poppy and Poppy was leaning her head against her. It was probably the most peaceful I’d seen Poppy for days, as she’d started asking about her daddy again, unfortunately – asking questions I’d found impossible to answer. But now, well, I’d never seen her quite so relaxed with anyone before, other than my mum.
‘You seem to have the magic touch,’ I commented when Crystal had finished the story. ‘You can put her to bed every night if you like!’
‘Yay! Put me to bed!’ Poppy said to Crystal, jumping up from the sofa.
Crystal laughed. ‘Mummy was joking, Poppy. It’s not even bedtime!’
But if it had been bedtime, I realised with surprise – Poppy would probably have let her. And that, in itself, was something really unusual. I wondered, again, how on earth Crystal had such a way with her. I supposed some women were simply complete naturals with children, even without having any of their own. Maybe she should re-train as a nursery worker or a pre-school teacher, I thought; she’d be excellent at it. But of course, if all she really wished for was a child of her own, such a suggestion would only upset her. So I kept quiet.