Chapter 23
23
GEMMA
It was nearly the last day of October, when we’d be celebrating Poppy’s third birthday, and this year, she understood the whole process a little more. I’d been talking to her about it, and almost every morning from about two weeks before the date, she’d been asking me, ‘Is my birthday yet?’
Finally the day arrived and when she bounced out of bed on the morning that I was able to tell her yes, it was her birthday today, she was now three years old, she promptly went into a huge fit of excitement.
‘It’s my birthday, it’s my birthday,’ she sang, jumping up and down on the spot. But when I brought her present into the room, she went quiet and stood, awestruck, staring at me as I handed it to her.
‘Is it for me?’ she said, and I laughed.
‘Yes, of course, sweetheart, it’s your birthday present. Do you want me to help you unwrap it?’
‘No! I do it.’ She’d become very independent recently, wanting to try to do everything herself, including getting dressed, which sometimes ended in tears because it could take her so long, I’d have to hurry her up. Luckily her birthday had fallen on a Thursday so there was no work or nursery to rush to. I wouldn’t have wanted a tantrum on her birthday.
She sat down on the floor with the parcel on her lap, and tore at the wrapping.
‘Oh!’ she said, looking at me in amazement. ‘It’s like at nurs’ry.’
I’d been told, often, of how she had to be cajoled into taking off the princess outfit in the dressing-up corner at nursery, before home time, or because other children wanted a turn wearing it. So I’d managed to find one almost identical online.
‘Do you like it, Poppy?’
‘Yes!’ She was already stripping off her pyjamas. ‘It’s BOO! Can I wear it today?’
‘Of course. I knew you’d want a blue princess dress, Poppy. And it’s a Mummy day today so you can wear it all day if you like. Let me brush your hair before you put your crown on!’
I’d worked hard, during the previous few evenings, to get ahead with my work so that I could take the whole day off to spend with Poppy. Mum was coming for lunch and we were going out to the park together in the afternoon. All morning, Poppy played with her dolls and teddies, being their princess, arranging them in rows so she could parade in front of them and tell them to sit up straight and listen to her commands. Mum arrived at midday with a beautifully wrapped present for her. I decided three was the most delightful age so far: still young enough to be overawed by the whole ceremony of being given a present, without having unrealistic expectations. Mum had bought her a walking, barking, toy puppy dog, and the way Poppy reacted, you’d have thought she’d been given the moon and all the stars.
‘A doggy!’ she said, looking awestruck – and when she stroked the toy and it gave a little bark, her eyes widened in stunned delight. ‘ My doggy!’
The postman had already delivered her present from Dad, a rainbow-coloured unicorn backpack, with a set of sticker books inside, and she’d reacted with such excitement, trying it on (on top of her princess outfit) and announcing solemnly I take this to nurs’ry.
‘Well,’ Mum said as we went into the kitchen to prepare lunch and I rebuked her for spending out on the toy puppy, ‘it wasn’t very expensive, and after all, there’s no Daddy to make a fuss of her now, is there.’
Just as we were sitting down to lunch – I’d made Poppy’s favourite sausage-and-ketchup sandwich, plus some more civilised sandwiches for me and Mum – there was a ring at the doorbell.
‘Postman?’ Poppy said, her eyes lighting up at the idea of yet more presents or cards.
I laughed. ‘No, Pops. The postman’s already brought everything. Let me see who it is.’
And it was Crystal, standing on the doorstep wearing a bright, luminous long blue dress decorated with stars and moons, and holding a large present wrapped in blue, with a blue bow on top. BOO, Poppy’s favourite colour – she’d remembered, I thought, but at the same time I was staring at her in confusion. What the hell? One o’clock on a Thursday? Surely she should have been at work.
‘Surprise!’ she sang out. ‘I took the afternoon off. Hope you don’t mind? I had to come and see the birthday girl! Where is she? Hello, Poppy! Happy birthday, three-year-old! Wow, you’re a princess today? That’s so beautiful!’
‘I… didn’t know you were coming,’ I stuttered, ushering Poppy back to the table, as she’d come running out holding a quarter of sausage sandwich which was threatening to drip ketchup. ‘Um… my mum’s here…’
‘Oh!’ Far from looking embarrassed, Crystal followed Poppy – uninvited – through to the kitchen. She smiled at Mum. ‘Hello, I’m Crystal. How lovely to meet you.’ She turned to me. ‘Shall I put the kettle on, Gem?’
Flustered, aware of the look of surprise and, I thought, flash of annoyance, on Mum’s face as she said hello back, I just nodded and mumbled a thank you. Crystal put the wrapped parcel down on the table and smiled at Poppy again.
‘For you,’ she said. ‘But not until you’ve finished your lunch, OK?’
‘But don’t rush,’ Mum told Poppy in a slightly less-than-happy tone. ‘Or you’ll get tummy ache.’
Poppy’s eyes rested, gleaming, on the blue parcel as she proceeded to pretend not to rush eating the rest of her sandwich. Meanwhile, Crystal had filled and turned on the kettle and was asking who wanted tea or coffee.
‘Um… would you like a sandwich?’ I asked, having not catered for another guest but feeling awkward and embarrassed despite how unexpected her arrival was. ‘I’ve got some cheese left, and a couple of tomatoes?—’
‘Oh God, no, I didn’t expect that, don’t worry about me. But I’ve brought a’ – she dropped her voice to just above a whisper – ‘C – A – K – E. It’s in the car, I thought I’d better not bring it in yet. I guessed you might be having lunch.’
‘We’ve already got one,’ Mum said somewhat icily.
I glanced at her in surprise. Although it was a little awkward, especially as it was Mum who had brought cake number one, it wasn’t like her to be so… well, frankly, rude.
‘But thank you,’ I told Crystal. ‘That’s so nice of you. Maybe we can have a slice of yours first, Mum,’ I suggested, thinking quickly, ‘and a slice of yours later, Crystal, after we’ve been to the park?’
‘I won’t be able to manage a second slice,’ Mum said, sniffing. ‘And we don’t want Poppy spoiling her birthday by being sick, do we?’
‘Not being sick!’ Poppy protested, shoving the last mouthful of sausage sandwich into her mouth.
‘Not yet, Pops,’ I said as cheerfully as I could manage. ‘But you will if you don’t slow down.’
I was now feeling anxious about the mood of the whole day being spoilt. I’d already promised Poppy the outing to the park, and Mum was looking forward to coming with us, to doing all the usual things with Poppy – the little slide, the baby swing, the balancing logs, the miniature climbing frame – all the play equipment for younger kids that the birthday girl adored. It would be incredibly difficult not to include Crystal in the outing, and now that she’d turned up, Poppy would be upset too if she didn’t come along. But I had a horrible feeling Crystal wouldn’t just rival Mum for Poppy’s affection – she would take over.
Poppy finished her sandwich as Crystal made the coffee, and she sat, wriggling with impatience, staring with unconcealed excitement at the blue parcel. Finally, Crystal picked it up and put it in front of her, kissing her on the head and wishing her a happy year of being three.
‘I like three,’ Poppy said earnestly, as she began to tear at the wrapping paper. Then she sat back, giving a gasp of surprise, as the paper fell away to reveal – well, she quite clearly didn’t know what it was.
‘It’s a robot,’ Crystal said. ‘Look, here’s the remote control. You can make him run across the floor, sing three different songs?—’
‘He’s BOO,’ Poppy said in delight. ‘A BOO wobot. What’s a wobot?’
‘Robots, for three-year-olds?’ Mum said disparagingly with another sniff. ‘She’s already been given a walking, barking, dog – I think that’s more appropriate for her age.’
‘Look, Pops,’ I said quickly, talking over Mum. ‘Put him on the floor. Now, if you press this button… whoa! Off he goes! Isn’t that clever? Oh, and look at his eyes flashing!’
‘You can press this button to make him come back, Poppy,’ Crystal added. ‘And if you want him to sing a song?—’
Mum was collecting the sandwich plates and taking them to the sink, her shoulders rigid with disapproval. I looked at Crystal apologetically. Of course, Mum must have felt she’d been outdone, but I wished she hadn’t made it quite so obvious.
‘Look, let’s take the robot into the living room, Poppy,’ I suggested. ‘You can play with that and your new doggy. And we’ll get the cake ready,’ I said as Crystal shepherded Poppy out of the kitchen. ‘Thanks for bringing it,’ I added quietly to Mum.
‘Well, it looks like it’s surplus to requirements now,’ she said.
‘Not at all.’ I dropped my voice to a whisper. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I didn’t realise Crystal was going to turn up today.’
‘Can’t be helped, I suppose,’ she said curtly. ‘Now then, I’ve brought candles. Shall I get some clean plates out?’
The singing of ‘Happy Birthday’, the blowing out of the three candles, and the cutting and consuming of the pink-and-white sponge cake all went peacefully enough. I’d spent a few days talking to Poppy about this process, reminding her of how I’d helped her with the blowing out the previous year when she was a bit too little to manage it, and she made a good job of extinguishing all three candles herself.
‘So who’s ready to walk off their cake?’ I suggested after we’d all finished.
‘Park!’ Poppy said, jumping to her feet. ‘Going to the park now! Nanny coming!’ She looked at Crystal. ‘Crystal coming?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Crystal said, smiling. ‘I mean, I feel like I kind of butted in on all this – I didn’t know what you had planned?—’
‘Don’t worry, we understand if you need to get home,’ Mum said – and suddenly I lost my patience. Crystal might have turned up unexpectedly, but she was trying to be polite now, and Mum was being downright rude. Hadn’t she complained that she’d never met my new friend – well, now she had the opportunity to start getting to know her, but she was acting as if she’d already made up her mind, and not in a good way!
‘Crystal come!’ Poppy said, her voice rising ominously. ‘I want Crystal to come!’
‘Yes, of course you must come, Crystal,’ I said firmly. ‘The more the merrier, eh, Poppy, for your birthday treat?’
This year she was still little enough to just want me, Mum, and Crystal – and surely that was something for us all to treasure and share together? By her next birthday, she’d probably want to have little friends from nursery or pre-school or wherever I’d managed to afford for her to go, to come and have a birthday party. Mum was feeling jealous and resentful, and although I kind of got that, I wanted her to spend some time with Crystal, to get to know her and realise why I liked her.
To be fair, I think Mum took the hint from my tone and the look I directed at her, as she seemed to pull herself together and make an effort to be a little more congenial, but I could tell she was disappointed with the way the whole day had turned out. I tried not to feel the same. Yes, it was awkward, and I wished Crystal had spoken to me beforehand instead of just turning up, but the only thing that really mattered, I told myself, was that Poppy enjoyed the day, not how offended the situation made any of us adults feel – we were old enough to know better.
So the outing to the park went reasonably well, and when we arrived home Crystal asked if it would be OK (‘ as long as your mum won’t be upset? ’) if she brought in her own cake from the car now, as it would be a bit daft to take it home with her and she’d never manage to eat it on her own. I smiled and said yes, that would be lovely.
She carried the cake inside in its box, and already I could see that it was twice as big as Mum’s. Not only that but, as she lifted it from the box, I could also see that it was iced in blue and white, not pink. Poppy was tired now from her exertions in the park and I thought that perhaps she wouldn’t take much notice of the colour anyway. But as I carried in the cake – without candles this time; even Crystal must have realised that it would be going a step too far if she’d have tried to rival Mum in this too – Poppy jumped up, a huge smile on her face, and said:
‘Yay, BOO cake! Not pink! I like BOO best!’
‘I’ll take the rest of my cake home, shall I?’ Mum said as she was getting ready to go home. Crystal had at least had the sense to be the first to leave, shortly after we’d all – apart from Mum – had a slice of the blue cake. ‘I won’t want to eat any more of it myself but perhaps the birds will enjoy it.’
‘Oh, Mum!’ I said, exasperated. ‘Don’t be like that! Crystal wasn’t trying to compete with you, or anything like that; she didn’t know you’d be here!’
‘So why didn’t she ask, like anyone with an ounce of common sense would do? And honestly, what on earth was she wearing? With those boots? And the tattoos? What does she think she looks like?’
‘She’s just a bit of a hippy, that’s all. It’s her style. It suits her. She’s a really nice person; I wish you’d give her a chance. She’s been a good friend to me, and she loves Poppy to bits.’
‘And she hasn’t got any children herself, you say?’
‘No. Unfortunately not. As I’ve told you, that’s why I feel for her.’
‘Hmm.’ Mum pulled her jacket on and picked up her handbag, preparing to leave.
‘What do you mean, hmm ?’
‘Just be careful, Gemma, that’s all I’m saying,’ she said. ‘What exactly is she after?’
‘She’s not after anything, she’s just being a friend to me, and to Poppy. And she’s not replacing you, Mum, whatever you might think, so please stop worrying and try to be nice to her. For my sake.’
‘It’s for your sake that I’m worrying. And not because I think she’s replacing me, either. Think about it, Gemma, that’s all I’m saying. She hasn’t got kids, she wishes she had one, and she loves yours to bits ?’ She headed for the door, shaking her head. ‘I’m just saying,’ she repeated, turning to give me a serious look, ‘think about it.’