Chapter 46
46
CRYSTAL
I felt so relieved after I told Gemma about Evie. She was shocked, of course, but once she’d listened to me describing how hard it’d been, she seemed so sympathetic that I ended up wishing I’d told her sooner. Of course, she still couldn’t understand why I hadn’t told her the reason for Evie being in care, but that would have opened up a huge new can of worms – she really would have been suspicious if she’d known the rest of my story. I just hoped that by baring my soul about Evie, I’d managed to convince her that I didn’t have any nefarious intentions regarding Poppy. Darling Poppy. As if I’d ever have done anything to hurt her. I knew she loved me, but I also knew, even while I was playing the silly game in my mind, imagining her as my own child, that she loved her real mummy best. It just… helped. It helped me to be able to play pretend like that, because it stopped me from constantly crying over Evie.
Had Gemma properly forgiven me now for the stupid mistake with the clothes? Was she still going to let me see Poppy? Take her out? I didn’t know, but at least she did seem a lot less hostile. The photo on the mantelpiece was a problem, of course – I’d have taken it down right away if I’d known she was coming, but I was pretty sure that when I told her about Evie, she was so shocked that she forgot all about that. I realised I’d just have to wait, give her time to absorb what I’d told her, and decide if she could trust me, despite me having kept Evie a secret.
I spent the rest of Boxing Day watching films on Netflix and dreaming of when I might next be able to see Poppy. Needless to say, I thought about Evie, too – she was never out of my thoughts – but despite the thrill of happiness I’d felt when she’d called to talk to me, despite the absolute joy and amazement when she’d finally called me Mummy , I’d had so many setbacks during the past three and a half years that I’d schooled myself against hoping for too much. I knew that, next time I visited, it was entirely possible that Evie would reject me just as bitterly as usual. It might, I knew, only have been the Christmas present that prompted the phone call. I’d bought her a kids’ smart watch and headphone set in purple, her favourite colour according to Donna, her foster mum. How sad I didn’t even know such basic things about my daughter as her favourite colour, but Donna was always really helpful with suggestions for presents, always warning me against ‘overdoing it’ and ‘trying to buy her affections’ . Well, it certainly hadn’t worked up until then, anyway. But perhaps I couldn’t be blamed for hoping things might finally be changing.