Chapter 39
Gemma had always considered the Thames to be a gentle, caring friend.
The sort that gives you chocolate when you’re feeling down or lets you borrow a dress, even if the last time you did so, a stranger knocked red wine over you.
Now, she’d experienced first-hand its other wild side, where its charming exterior hid a quick temper and wasn’t to be messed with.
The following day, Gemma was still on high alert.
She startled at the sound of a flyer being pushed through the front door letterbox, panicked when she nearly overfilled the bath and jumped when the phone rang.
The call turned out to be Nick, who left an apologetic voice message, which she chose to ignore.
She didn’t want to talk to him. She felt angry, disgruntled, and annoyed at herself as much as with him.
He’d nearly got them drowned, for goodness’ sake!
The only problem was that on Thursday, Nick confirmed his attendance for Saturday’s Mudlarkers’ Club meeting.
As much as Gemma loved their get-togethers, this was one she would have to miss.
She did not want to see him. She gave an excuse about having to go to a family brunch with her parents who were in town.
Instead, she would go mudlarking on her own on Sunday – it was imperative she got back onto the foreshore before a fear of the river set in.
And she accepted Timothy’s invitation for Sunday afternoon tea on his houseboat.
Thankfully, when she went out to mudlark, there was no rapidly incoming tide or terrifying quicksand sludge.
By contrast, the river resembled a playful brown puddle, far from the aggressive torrent she’d experienced a week ago.
Two hours slipped away as if they’d been ten minutes.
She found a modern mother-of-pearl button, a tortoiseshell comb gluggy with silt, a worn-smooth bag seal, and reassurance that the Thames was still her friend.
At Timothy’s, Laila had made chocolate chip cookies from scratch. ‘Not from a packet,’ she assured Gemma when she arrived. Not that Gemma would have been able to tell the difference. She never baked. Laila proudly shook the tin of biscuits at her, insisting she take one.
‘They taste wonderful,’ Gemma said.
‘Laila’s turning into a proper little housewife,’ Timothy said.
‘You can’t say that, Gramps. It’s sexist,’ Laila said.
‘You know what I mean. I was trying to pay you a compliment.’
Laila rolled her eyes at Gemma as if to say thank goodness you’re here as I’ve been having to deal with this ever since he came out of hospital.
‘Did you have a lovely time with your family?’ Timothy asked.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Gemma said, and went on to tell them about her parents’ move to the country so that she didn’t have to keep on lying.
‘Anyway, how are you doing, Timothy?’ she asked.
‘It’s such a bore not having a body that complies with one’s mind.’ He smiled but it didn’t cover up how tired he looked, as if after all these years, life was finally beginning to catch up with him. ‘But hey, ho.’
‘Another biscuit, Gramps?’
‘No, thank you, Laila. Don’t you have to go?’
‘Yep. Sorry, Gemma. I’ll see you another time.’
Timothy waited until the front door had closed and they’d seen her walk past the houseboat window, so he could be certain Laila had left before speaking. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Gemma, but I encouraged Laila to go out as there’s something I want to talk to you about. More tea before I begin?’
Gemma didn’t want any more tea, but she made one for Timothy.
‘I’m keen for your advice, particularly as you’ve got to know Laila these past few weeks. You see, Laila’s birth mother has been in contact.’
Gemma’s chest constricted on hearing ‘birth mother’. Is this what was now going to happen whenever she came across those two words strung together?
‘Nadira will be coming out of prison soon. She says she’s now clean and wants to reconnect with Laila.’
‘That’s wonderful news,’ Gemma said.
‘Laila doesn’t think so. She wants nothing to do with her.
And she doesn’t want to go back to living with Jodie either.
I don’t think I’m the best person to be looking after her since the fall.
Let’s face it, Laila’s been looking after me.
As much as I love having her around, that’s not right for a seventeen-year-old, especially now that she’s back at school. ’
Gemma nodded. It was a conundrum she suspected wasn’t going to be solved over a cup of tea. ‘Sometimes these things take time,’ she said. ‘Laila needs to get used to the idea of her mother being out in the world and interested in her.’
‘I agree and I’d rather sort this out between ourselves than get social services involved. If they hear about my accident, they’ll start poking their noses in and making decisions for her. Until Laila’s eighteen, she’s still considered a child.’ Timothy rested his head on the back of the chair.
‘Perhaps the first step is for Laila to get back on speaking terms with Jodie, who’s clearly trying to do the best by her.’
‘Jodie and Simon have such goodness in their hearts but, in my opinion, their ordered, routine-driven and disciplined lifestyle hasn’t benefited Laila as they’d hoped. She’s a free spirit and needs to feel as if she has some independence. It’s a case of letting the rope out slowly.’
‘Has Laila interacted with Jodie at all since she left?’ Gemma asked.
‘Briefly, at school, I believe. I was tempted to orchestrate a proper meeting. But I didn’t think it would go down well.’
‘You could see if Laila would consider hearing Jodie out in a neutral place like a café and with you there to mediate if necessary,’ Gemma suggested.
‘Laila may project a tough exterior but she’s a good kid.
I suspect that deep down she doesn’t want to fall out with her foster parents and would secretly like to have a connection with her birth mother. ’
‘I hope so.’
‘How about I try and talk to her?’ Gemma offered.
‘Would you?’ Timothy’s eyes lit up.
‘I can’t promise anything.’ She didn’t like to tell Timothy that the only experience she’d had with teenagers was when she was one.
But she was enjoying the connection she’d made with Laila and wanted to help.
She knew how wonderful it was to have people in your life who deeply cared about you regardless of whether you were biologically related to them or not, and she didn’t want Laila to lose what she had.
‘No, of course not. But she listens to you. It’s been nothing but Gemma this, Gemma that.’ He laughed as if recalling a fond memory.
‘I’ll see what I can do.’