Chapter 27
27
GEMMA
I spent the rest of that weekend trying to persuade myself there was nothing to worry about. It wasn’t that I had any doubts, myself, about Crystal; I was just so worried about Mum taking such an obvious dislike to her. She’d never been the kind of mum to disapprove of my friends, or boyfriends – even back in my teenage years when it was fair to say some of them weren’t particularly sensible choices. She’d told me since that she and Dad took the view that if they tried to stop me seeing someone that they thought was unsuitable, it would just make that person seem even more appealing to me, and I might have tried to see them in secret. So instead of speaking out, they’d just watched the situation carefully and waited for it to run its course. It went without saying that they approved of Jack. But if that made them bad judges of character, what did it say about me? I’d thought he was wonderful.
By the Sunday morning, I’d talked myself out of my despondency. Mum still didn’t really know Crystal, whereas I did, and I knew she was a kind, caring person who’d had her own problems. All she wanted was to spend time with me and Poppy – and if it sometimes seemed like Poppy was the priority, well, where was the harm in Poppy having another adult to lavish love and attention on her? She didn’t have her father around any more, after all.
So Poppy and I spent the rest of that leisurely weekend on our own. She spent most of it wearing her princess costume, and it was nice to hear her chatting to herself as she played little make-believe games of being a princess, ordering her dolls and teddies to bring her imaginary treasure.
Crystal and I went for lunch as usual on the Monday, and I apologised straight away for the way I’d dismissed her.
‘Don’t be silly, I understood, completely,’ she said. ‘Look, I realise it’s got a bit… kind of full on, our friendship, right? We’ve been seeing a lot of each other?—’
‘Yes, but I’m grateful for that, honestly. I think I was just tired on Saturday, I needed a bit of quiet time, that’s all.’
She smiled and nodded. ‘Well, any time you want a break from me, you must just say so. I realise I can be a bit… well, a bit much. A bit loud and over the top and?—’
‘Not at all. You’re exactly what I needed, exactly what I still need. I honestly don’t know how I’d have got through these last few months without you.’
It was only as I was saying this that I realised how completely true it was. However lovely, however helpful and sympathetic my mum had been, I’d have drowned in my own despair had Crystal not been around to cheer me up, to keep me sane and keep Poppy happy.
‘Well, it works both ways, love. I feel so much happier myself too. I don’t think I even realised how lonely I was before.’ She paused, and then added in a rush as if she didn’t really want to say it, ‘I’m sorry your mum doesn’t seem to like me much.’
‘No, it’s not that – she, well, she’s hardly even met you.’
‘I know, but we’ve got off to a bad start. I’ll try to put it right. I know how much she means to you.’
I smiled. She was so considerate, and really, was it too much to ask for Mum to make an effort?
‘Thanks. I think she’s just got used to having me and Poppy to herself, that’s all. When Jack was around, I didn’t really have time for a special friend.’
Special friend. I saw the reaction in Crystal’s eyes, and I was glad we’d had this conversation – cleared the air. I was even convinced that Mum would come, in time, to appreciate Crystal as much as I did – maybe even as much as Poppy did. It was ridiculous to imagine Crystal could ever have any ulterior motives. She was my special friend.
That evening, a little while after I’d put Poppy to bed, I had a call from my dad. It was unusual; he was more likely to call, or video-call me, at weekends so he could chat to Poppy too. He hadn’t done so that weekend but I hadn’t been concerned. He was often busy with his golf club friends, and of course, he’d spoken to Poppy on the morning of her birthday.
‘Is everything all right?’ I asked him, a little anxiously.
‘Yes, of course, love. Well…’
I heard the anxiety in his hesitation.
‘Well, what?’
‘I’m just a bit concerned, to be honest, about what I’ve been hearing from your mum.’
I sighed. ‘And what have you been hearing, Dad?’
‘She’s very worried, Gem, about this friend of yours.’
‘I know she is, and frankly, I’m a bit annoyed that she’s been bothering you about it,’ I said. ‘She seems to have got it into her head that Crystal’s taking her place. It’s ridiculous. I never imagined Mum would get jealous about me having a friend.’
‘It doesn’t sound like jealousy to me. It sounds like genuine concern. She says this Crystal is spending more and more time at your place, spending more and more time with Poppy?—’
‘Yes, she is! She is, Dad, because she’s been helping me out, looking after Poppy so I can spend more time working, getting new clients – and it’s paying off, and I, for one, am grateful and I can’t understand why Mum doesn’t see it the same way. Unless she’s jealous that I’m letting someone else spend time with Poppy, which is ridiculous because I’m only thinking of Mum. I don’t want to keep asking her, when she’s got her job, and her own friends and clubs and?—’
‘Hey, all right, calm down, nobody’s criticising you for anything.’
I didn’t realise I’d raised my voice. I took a breath.
‘Well. Sorry, but it’s a bit annoying. Mum’s offended Crystal and as I say, she’s been a good friend to me.’
‘I think your mum’s the one who’s been offended,’ Dad said quietly. ‘I understand Crystal turned up on Poppy’s birthday and deliberately out-did her on the present and the cake.’
‘Deliberately? That’s nonsense; she couldn’t possibly have known what present and cake Mum was bringing. And anyway, the whole thing is a farce. Crystal recognised that she should have called me first about the birthday, and she apologised to Mum about it on Saturday. She just got excited about seeing Poppy.’
‘That’s exactly what we’re worried about,’ he said. ‘I understand she doesn’t have children of her own…’
‘What’s that got to do with anything? Surely you don’t think she’s only coming to see me so that she can steal Poppy from under my nose, do you – because yes, that’s what Mum hinted at. Like no childless woman can possibly be trusted around other people’s children? What do you think she’s going to do, exactly? Sneak Poppy out of the house while I’m upstairs working? Run off with her while she’s taking her for a walk to the park?’
‘Do you let her take Poppy out on her own for walks?’
‘Yes! Yes, of course I do, because she’s my best friend, I trust her, and Poppy adores her! Dad, honestly, this is completely ridiculous. Mum’s only saying all this stuff because she felt hurt about the birthday thing – and yes, I get it, she was upset, and I was a bit cross too, but it was just a bit thoughtless of Crystal to turn up like that, that’s all. Please tell me you’re not seriously thinking she’s some kind of monster. She isn’t. You haven’t even met her.’
‘No. Perhaps I should.’
‘Fine, come down next weekend – why not? Poppy would love to see you, so would I. I’ll ask Crystal to come round on Saturday afternoon. For you to interview her,’ I added sarcastically.
‘Don’t be like that, sweetheart. Yes, I’d love to come down on Saturday. But you know I’m only concerned because I love you. And Poppy.’
I exhaled my anger out.
‘I know. All right, I suppose I’ll want to inspect all of Poppy’s friends before I’ll trust them. Anyway, it’ll be lovely to see you. Message me when you’re leaving, OK? And drive carefully. Love you, Dad.’
I sat in silence for several long minutes after I ended the call. This was so unlike my dad. He’d brought me up to believe the best in everyone, and yet here he was, after one disgruntled call from my mum, convincing himself that Crystal was… what? A child-napper? Unbelievable! Was it really so unusual for a woman without kids of her own to become attached to her friend’s daughter? And in such a short time?
Well, OK, and even if it was unusual, that didn’t necessarily make it a bad thing…
Did it?
Poppy seemed to have suddenly become more grown up since her birthday. I knew, of course, that children’s development was like this; it had happened before that she’d suddenly taken a massive step forward after months of seeming to be much the same. But it felt like, having turned three, she’d left babyhood behind and was now starting to behave like a proper little girl. She was fiercely independent, and wanted to choose what she wore every morning as well as dressing herself – sometimes resulting in bizarre combinations of colour, or totally unsuitable clothes like summer dresses on cold days, or sandals when it was raining. It was becoming more and more difficult to talk her round on occasions like these, and it sometimes resulted in us being late for nursery and work. It was embarrassing to have to tell Mike that I was rushing into the office at the last minute because of a tantrum over a pair of socks, or an argument about the suitability of shorts and T-shirts in November – but fortunately, he’d had kids himself so he was pretty understanding.
Even more noticeable was the rapid improvement in Poppy’s vocabulary. She was coming out with new words every day – some of them far more sophisticated than I’d have expected – and speaking in full sentences more often than not, chatting away non-stop. So it was a surprise when, one evening when I collected Poppy from nursery, she was uncharacteristically quiet.
‘What’s up, Pops? Are you tired?’ I asked her as I strapped her into her car seat.
‘No, I’m not tired,’ she retorted. ‘I’m cross. ’
‘Oh, dear – why?’ I wondered if she’d had a fight with one of the other children, or been told off for some minor misdemeanour.
‘Because everyone’s got a daddy. But I haven’t.’
My heart sank. ‘You have got a daddy, sweetheart. He’s away, that’s all – and anyway, I’m sure not everyone has got a daddy. Lots of daddies don’t live with their children, so?—’
‘He’s been away for ever ,’ she said, ignoring me. Her voice was wobbling. ‘Why doesn’t he come back?’
‘Well, he’s very busy…’ I began, as I started the engine. ‘And?—’
‘Freya’s daddy takes her to nurs’ry. And Mina’s daddy?—’
She was starting to cry. And my heart was starting to break.
‘Well, I know Naomi definitely hasn’t got a daddy living with her, and Alfie’s got two mummies instead of a daddy. You see? Your daddy?—’
‘My daddy’s not ever coming back,’ she said, sobbing properly now. ‘Is he, Mummy?’
I turned the ignition off again. I got out of the car, opened the back door and sat on the back seat next to my baby girl. Undid her straps, pulled her out of her car seat and onto my lap, holding her close while my tears mingled with hers. I asked myself why I’d been hiding the truth, trying to protect her from what, in the end, she was going to have to know. I wasn’t being fair. She needed to know, to understand, and instead of helping her to come to terms with it I’d been protecting myself from having to have this conversation.
‘I don’t know, sweetheart,’ I finally admitted, stroking her hair, the beautiful red hair she’d inherited from the bastard who’d inflicted all this pain on us both. ‘I don’t know if he’s ever coming back. He might not. He probably won’t. But we’ll be OK on our own, darling; you and me together forever, all right? We’ll miss him, but we can be OK without him. We’ve got each other, that’s all that matters now. And I love you enough for both of us, more than enough – more than a hundred daddies could ever love you. All right?’
She nodded, her face still a picture of misery. ‘More than a hundred?’ she repeated.
‘More than a thousand, more than all the daddies in the world.’
She wiped a hand across her eyes. ‘I knowed he wasn’t coming back,’ she said now, loudly, angrily – and the tone of her voice told me everything I needed to know. She’d be OK. She was cross with him, as much as missing him, but she’d needed, more than anything, to be told the truth.
‘Are you ready to go home now, Pops?’ I said, giving her a final cuddle and helping to wipe her tears away. ‘I’ve got chocolate biscuits for your snack.’
‘Yay, chocolate biscuits!’ She shifted herself back into her car seat. ‘OK, Mummy, let’s go home.’
My beautiful, feisty daughter was going to be fine. And so was I.
‘Stuff you, Jack,’ I muttered to myself as we headed off home. ‘We don’t need you.’