Chapter 45
The next day was a rainy Sunday afternoon and Gemma was looking at the wallpaper strips for the umpteenth time.
It seemed both strange and unbelievable to think that at some point in the past, her birth mother had touched one of these papers, if not all of them.
Her birth mother, Claire Rita Reed. They may have looked as inconsequential as any bits of torn patterned paper, but the historical and personal value to Gemma was immeasurable.
But what was she going to do with them? She certainly didn’t want them to get lost in a drawer never to be looked at again.
Then, she had an idea. It had been sitting in front of her all along: the printer’s display tray.
The wallpaper pieces could form the backdrop to her mudlarking finds.
The Georgian button would go with the Laura Ashley wallpaper and the mustard and brown sherd of Staffordshire slipware would stand out against the beige damask.
Laila called while Gemma had been playing around with different combinations.
Gemma answered at the same time as deciding that the seventeenth-century elaborately decorated clay pipe bowl would be perfect next to the olive and cream stripe.
Laila asked if she could come over to Gemma’s.
She said it was something to do with her birth mother but didn’t explain.
Sensing it was going to be a hot chocolate kind of a catch-up, Gemma got out the cocoa and filled up the kettle. Laila arrived soon after and, although she did a good job at showing interest in hearing Gemma’s news and seeing the pieces of wallpaper, she was also distracted.
‘Something’s up, isn’t it?’ Gemma said. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
Laila pulled out an envelope and placed it on the table. For a minute, she stared at it. Gemma waited.
‘My birth mother has written to me,’ Laila said matter-of-factly.
Gemma couldn’t tell whether this was good news or bad news from Laila’s perspective. She decided to channel positivity because anyone’s birth mother reaching out should be considered very good news indeed. ‘That’s great, Laila.’
‘I dunno. I haven’t opened it yet.’
‘Has she written to you before?’
‘No. That’s why I’m nervous. It feels serious, you know.’
‘Drink some hot chocolate.’ Gemma pushed the mug closer to Laila.
‘Maybe you could read it and tell me what it says?’
‘I don’t think she intended a stranger to read it.’
Laila’s fingers worried a tassel of hair, then she eventually opened the letter and let Gemma read it with her.
Dear Laila,
I know I haven’t been a model mother and I’ve done things I’m not proud of.
But I want you to know that the one thing I’m most proud of is you.
When you came into my life, I didn’t think I could love anything as much as I loved you.
That’s the truth. No word of a lie. I know I’ve made bad choices in the past but having you was not one of them.
I hear you’ve found a loving home with wonderful foster parents. I don’t want to take that away from you, but I’d like to be in your life again. To hang out with you every so often. To do whatever you like doing.
Before you go ripping up this letter because you want nothing to do with me, please hear me out.
I’m not the person I used to be. I’ve changed.
You may not believe me and sometimes I can’t believe it myself.
But I feel it deep down. I’m clean now and I’ve been studying psychology.
I reckon I could become a counsellor if I keep at it. How about that? Me, a shrink!
I’ve also been reading up about Pakistani history, traditions and food. I rejected so much of it when I was younger but now I want to reconnect with my cultural heritage. I even thought that maybe you could come on this journey with me, too?
The point is, I’d like you to consider seeing me again. I’m going to be out of here soon and I want to make a new life. I’m not asking you to come and live with me. I’d just like you to give me a second chance.
Love Mum x
Laila pressed a knuckle into the corner of her eye, which had filled with tears.
‘I think that answers your question,’ Gemma said.
‘Yep.’
‘You know that just as she can have had a change of heart, so can you.’
‘S’ppose,’ Laila mumbled so quietly Gemma barely heard it. Gemma stayed silent, letting her mull over the letter. ‘It just seems scary.’
‘And you know what? She’s probably scared too. She’s put herself on the line here by reaching out to you, not knowing if you’re going to reject her or not. Neither of you will know how it’ll go if you meet up but there’s only one way to find out.’
‘We could just meet for a drink and see what happens, I guess …’
‘Exactly. Take it one step at a time.’
Laila nodded. She wrung her hands. ‘Yeah, okay,’ she said. ‘Okay, I’ll do it.’