Chapter 44
44
CRYSTAL
Spending Christmas Day on my own wasn’t exactly a new experience for me, but I supposed I’d hoped this year might have been different. That I might, by now, have been accepted into Gemma’s family as a special friend – that I might have been invited to share at least an hour or so of the day with them. Whenever I thought back over the months that I’d known Gemma, I’d always felt that it had all been perfect until her mother had got involved, spreading her suspicions and antipathy to her daughter and putting doubts into her mind. But now, I knew I had to accept some responsibility for those doubts. I’d gone too far, messed things up, and there was nobody I could blame for that but myself.
I spent much of the day in front of the TV, trying to tell myself that it was just another day, that there was no more reason to feel miserable on that day than on any other I spent on my own, without Poppy, without Gemma. By dinner time, when I sat down with my turkey meal for one, I’d made up my mind what I had to do. I had to come clean with Gemma – not about everything, obviously, but at least about the aspect of my life that was the most relevant. I was dreading it; it could go either way – either make her understand me and forgive me, or make her feel even more suspicious about my attachment to Poppy. But I had to take the risk, because Gemma had already been talking about cutting down my involvement with her, and what I’d done – with that present – had surely added fuel to the fire.
Then – just as I was warming up my Tesco mini Christmas pudding, pretending to feel festive and wondering what was happening at Gemma’s mum’s place, picturing Poppy laughing and happy with all her new toys – I had a phone call. It was the phone call I’d longed for, dreamed of, tried to imagine, for so long that the very idea of it had pretty much taken on the aspect of a miracle – something that was never going to become a reality. But that afternoon, on Christmas Day, my dream came true, albeit for just the tiniest, briefest moment. From all those miles away, I heard the voice I heard every night in my dreams.
‘Hello. Thank you for my Christmas present,’ she said. ‘I love it.’
‘Oh!’ was all I could manage at first. I had to sit down. I was stuttering, like an idiot, my smile fighting with the tears that had sprung to my eyes. ‘Oh, you’re very welcome, darling. I’m so glad you like it?—’
‘I do. I hope you had a nice Christmas. See you soon. Bye…’
There was a moment of hesitation. And then, a little cough, as if she was embarrassed at herself, before the muttered final words that broke my heart and yet mended it at the same time:
‘Bye, Mummy.’