Chapter 14
14
CRYSTAL
Poppy loved me already, I knew she did, and I loved her too, desperately. It made me feel so happy to know that I’d be seeing her again, that she’d be looking forward to seeing me too. It helped me through the days at work, and the long, slow evenings on my own at home. It helped to calm me, helped me to sleep. I even felt like I could pass up on the weekly meeting of the self-help group. In fact I was quite sure I’d be OK now without the group, but I knew from past experience what would happen if I didn’t turn up: one of the leaders, either Jo, the therapist, or Malik, the yoga instructor, would get in touch to find out if I was all right, and try to persuade me to go back. And they wouldn’t take no for an answer: they’d insist on visiting me at home, and talking through what I’d been up to, and they might ask why I suddenly seemed a bit hyper , as they liked to call it, and I knew what would happen: I’d start blurting something out about Gemma. About Poppy. And although I kept telling myself my conscience was clear, they’d somehow make me feel like I was doing something I shouldn’t.
On the other hand, I was beginning to feel so bored by it all – all the talk of positivity and taking one day at a time and doing our breathing and yoga and looking for spiritual enlightenment – that when I went along to the group exactly as I always did every Monday evening, I found myself sitting in a corner on my own, yawning, wishing I was with Gemma. Helping with Poppy, playing with her on the beach, singing nursery songs with her. She was all the spiritual enlightenment I needed.
That was why I started to think that I could be far more useful to Gemma, far more helpful with Poppy, than just seeing them briefly on Saturday mornings. I could offer to look after Poppy sometimes, play with her, even take her out in her buggy for a little while, to give Gemma more time for her work. She’d already told me her mum looked after Poppy on Fridays, but she couldn’t ask her to do more because she worked part-time. Well, I lived close enough to look after her for an evening occasionally, or at the weekend. It would make sense – Gemma was a single mum now, she’d admitted she was going to struggle financially, and I obviously wouldn’t want any payment, it would be an absolute pleasure to spend time with Poppy. We would be doing each other a favour. But somehow I knew I’d have to be very careful in how I suggested it. I wouldn’t want to give Gemma any cause for concern about my motives. After all, we still hadn’t known each other very long – why should she trust me with her beautiful child?
But, then again… if Poppy trusted me, why shouldn’t she?