Chapter 49
49
CRYSTAL
I was heartbroken. It had all gone wrong – disastrously wrong, because I really didn’t think Gemma was ever going to forgive me this time. It took me until the evening, turning it over constantly in my mind, before I started to understand why she’d reacted quite as badly as she had. I mean – I had written a note, and I’d only done that rather than texting her, to save waking her up. I’d done my best, hadn’t I? I’d dressed Poppy in her warmest clothes, wrapped her in her thick winter coat, hat, and mittens, and of course I wouldn’t have taken her in my car if I hadn’t got Evie’s car seat in the back. I’d driven the same car ever since Evie was with me, when she was about the age Poppy was now. I couldn’t face taking the seat out of the car; it would have felt like accepting defeat, at the time, and now, even though Evie would be far too big for it of course, I couldn’t bear to get rid of it. What more could I have done? – that was what I kept asking myself. But of course, it slowly dawned on me that it wasn’t a question of what more I could have done, but of what I shouldn’t have done. I shouldn’t have done it at all, that was the point. My intentions had been good, but I’d done it again – got completely carried away, excited by the idea of giving Poppy a treat and giving Gemma a break at the same time. But I knew, didn’t I, that Gemma was already annoyed with me about the Christmas-present outfit. I knew she wanted me to back off a bit, that she didn’t really want me to take Poppy out on my own any more. How could I have thought it was a good idea to just take her daughter off like that, only leaving a note – a note Gemma didn’t even see? I suppose I convinced myself that she’d be grateful. It was my own fault, and now I’d made things even worse – and just as I’d thought that her sympathy about Evie might have been softening her feelings towards me.
I was due to be back at work the next day, a Thursday, and Gemma wouldn’t be back until the Monday. I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to call her, but I’d just message her, saying sorry again – just that, nothing more. I didn’t think it would be helpful to send a long rambling message trying to explain myself or beg for forgiveness. If I was going to be forgiven, I’d have to wait for it.
The only thing that kept me going for the rest of that day was the knowledge that just a week later, I was going to visit Evie again. I was going because they thought she’d be happy to see me more often. I kept telling myself that, over and over, holding onto the bright-shining possibility of it, like a child holds tight to some special shiny shell or pebble she’s found on the beach. The magic token. The magic that might just be able to heal my broken heart.