Not Your Child, page 24
‘I thought you’d run a mile. That you’d think I was… stalking you, or something. Planning to get revenge. Or worse, that you’d think I was trying to steal Poppy, because she’s so… so like Evie. That I’d try to steal your daughter because mine had been taken from me.’
I dropped my head. ‘But I have thought that! Can’t you see, all this secrecy has actually been what’s made me so unsure of you, so suspicious.’
‘But I didn’t think you’d trust me once you knew I’d been suspected of abandoning my child – of having my own daughter taken into care. I know how it sounds – I knew perfectly well what people thought about me at the time. That’s why I came off social media – I was being bombarded with hateful messages.’
‘That must have been awful for you. But the fact is, I didn’t trust you because of not knowing about all this!’ I said. ‘I couldn’t understand, I knew there must be something you weren’t telling me, but now – now I know—’
‘We can still be friends?’ Her voice was so hopeful, I just wanted to cry again. I felt like I needed a week at home, on my own, just to absorb everything, to calm down and to make sense of it all. ‘We can go back and start again? We’re… almost like sisters, in a way, aren’t we? That’s what I felt, from the outset, like we’ve got this connection—’
‘A despicable, lying connection called Jack.’ I looked at her suddenly, another thought just occurring to me. ‘Do you get any child support from him?’
She shook her head. ‘Before I met you, my priority was still trying to get him to admit that it was him who’d left Evie on her own, to clear my name and take some responsibility. He was supposed to be paying child maintenance to the foster carer, but he was trying to dodge that. Eventually even his brother started telling him he ought to have a conscience – I suspect, now, that this would have been after you’d had Poppy. I think even for Ryan, him going on to have another child, without doing anything to support his first one, was more than he could stand by him for.’
‘Ryan. The same brother who messaged me from Australia to warn me Jack was with someone else – but who’s still, apparently, ended up going on the run with him and the rest of their lousy family.’
‘Yes. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear Jack had gone to Australia. I knew Ryan had already gone by then, to join their parents, and I guessed Jack would follow – to get away from everything that was hanging over him. He’d do anything to avoid his responsibilities. He knew there was a court case coming up, he’d have had to pay years of back-payments in maintenance—’
‘But there was never any mention, never anything that made me suspect he was running away from anything – surely I’d have known if he was trying to avoid a court case, paying maintenance, anything like that – he never said, he never acted as if he was going away because he was in some kind of trouble.’ I shook my head, bewildered. ‘It was all about starting an exciting new life. I was supposed to be going out to Australia to join him!’
She looked at me, with something like pity in her eyes. ‘That’s just what he told you.’
I nodded, feeling the last shreds of my own innocence falling away. Jack didn’t go to make a new start for us, at all. He was running away – from Crystal, from Evie, and from me and Poppy too. Even from my parents, who he’d surely have guessed would have skinned him alive rather than let him hurt me or their granddaughter. But Jack didn’t care about any of us, in the end.
‘I’m even more pleased now, that he’s been found,’ I said. ‘I’ll ask my dad to get his private detective on the case for you – for Evie – as well as for me.’
‘I don’t suppose your dad will want to do that.’ She sighed. ‘I know it’s my own fault – I’ve got off to a bad start with them, but your parents don’t like me, do they?’
‘They will. When I explain.’ I looked at my watch and jumped to my feet. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ve asked the nursery to keep Poppy for an extra hour and it’s already been nearly that.’
‘Are you OK to drive?’ she asked anxiously. ‘I know this has all been a horrible shock. I’m so sorry, you’re right, I should have told you about it all, much sooner, but there never seemed to be a right time.’
‘I’m all right.’ I’d have to be. I had to behave normally for my daughter. ‘And… I understand. At least, I think I will, when I’ve had time to absorb it all.’
I looked at the picture of Evie again, shaking my head. The likeness really was incredible.
‘They’ve both taken after Jack,’ I said, and the regret in my voice was so obvious that Crystal actually laughed. ‘The same beautiful red hair, the same eyes—’
‘Well, about the only good thing about him is that he’s a good-looking bastard.’ She paused, then added softly, ‘And I suppose you realise: our daughters are half-sisters.’
‘Half-sisters – yes, of course,’ I mused. ‘What does that make us, I wonder?’
She gave a little snort of laughter. ‘A pair of idiots?’
And despite everything, ridiculously – I found myself laughing back.
55
CRYSTAL
The relief, after I’d told Gemma the whole story, was instant. I felt exhausted, as if I’d been operated on, surgically, and had half of the contents of my brain removed. It had been difficult to answer, when she’d asked why I hadn’t told her before. Although it was true that I’d always been afraid she wouldn’t trust me if she knew the truth, I think if I was completely honest, that was only half of the reason. Perhaps there was a tiny element, too, of not wanting her to know who I was until I was as sure as I could be, of her. Both of us having daughters by the same father was a bond we hadn’t chosen, but one that I sensed could be important to us both, as well as to our children as they grew up. As soon as Gemma saw what I’d seen – that Evie and Poppy weren’t just half-sisters but almost carbon copies of each other – she wouldn’t be able to help feeling the same peculiar, instinctive tug of attraction… like two magnetic surfaces, pulling towards each other… that I’d felt for Poppy, the moment I first looked at her photo.
Whether we liked it or not, our daughters were linked in an amazing, special way, and through them – so were we. Even though Gemma had been angry enough with me – with good cause – to storm over to my place that afternoon, obviously intending to tell me she never wanted me anywhere near Poppy again – what I’d had to tell her had changed the whole picture, inevitably, and I hoped, perhaps permanently.
I loved Poppy, yes, but I do admit I’d got carried away sometimes, pretending to myself that she was Evie – it was hard not to, the likeness was so indisputable. It was wrong, it was hurtful to Gemma and I should have known better. If anyone had behaved like that with Evie, I’d have been outraged. If Gemma was going to give me another chance based purely on the fact that she felt she should because of our connection – the dubious privilege of both having had a child with a cowardly louse called Jack – then it felt a little as if my behaviour was being forgiven for the wrong reasons. I now had a duty, I knew, to prove to Gemma all over again that she could trust me with her daughter – and I wouldn’t expect that trust to be easily regained.
But already, I knew I was going to find it easier, now, to take a step back and love Poppy in a more appropriate way; like the kind ‘auntie’ I really was, instead of like a slightly deranged wannabe mother. Because I was going to be a proper mum in my own right again, soon – Donna had told me she was sure of it now, so was Sarah, our social worker, and I’d finally found the confidence to feel sure of it myself too. Evie was going to come home. We wouldn’t rush it, but we didn’t need to; all I needed was the confidence that she could start to love me again, and I could, finally, start to be a real mum to my own child, all over again. Without the father who’d let us both down in such a spectacular and unforgiveable way.
56
GEMMA
Half-sisters. I pondered on this, trying to settle my fevered brain as I drove back to the nursery to collect my darling Poppy. One of my regrets, once I’d realised my relationship with Jack was definitely over, had been that Poppy would never have a brother or a sister. But she did, now – a half-sister so like her in looks that, if it weren’t for the three years’ age difference, they could have been twins. How would she react, when – if everything went the way Crystal hoped, and Evie came back to live with her – I told Poppy she had a big sister? Would they be friends? Would the likeness extend to their personalities?
I wondered, too, whether Evie would like having a little sister. Perhaps it might help her to adapt to being back with her mum, starting a new life, at a new school – all of which would be hard for her, of course. I felt a sudden new burst of sympathy for Crystal – for everything she’d been through, all the trauma she’d now told me about, and on top of everything else, being separated from her beloved daughter for four whole years. Thank God it looked as if things were now improving. I hoped with all my heart that Evie would soon be back permanently – perhaps even in a matter of months.
The afternoon certainly hadn’t gone the way I’d anticipated. I’d imagined saying goodbye, relinquishing forever the friendship that had meant so much to me just six months earlier. Instead, I’d come away with a whole new perception of everything. A whole new version of my own story, as well as Crystal’s. It was going to take time to come to terms with what Jack had done, the reality now making him even more despicable in my eyes than I’d already realised. On top of all this was the fact that he’d now gone on to father another child somewhere in Australia. That little boy was also a half-brother to Poppy and to Evie. Would they ever meet? I doubted it. But when Jack was finally forced to pay up for all of his responsibilities, I wondered whether his current relationship would also be cast off like unwanted baggage. Poor woman, poor little boy.
It was going to take time, too, for Mum and Dad to accept Crystal. She knew she’d made that difficult, and I could already imagine my parents’ scepticism when I told them the latest revelations. But they’d come round. They were decent, loving people and all they cared about was protecting me and Poppy. They’d understand, they’d even sympathise, once they’d got over the shock.
But even though I was still reeling from everything I’d been told, I somehow found myself smiling as I went to collect Poppy and helped her into the car for the short drive home from the nursery.
‘Did you have a nice time today?’ I asked her as I pulled away.
‘Yes. But I’m very tired. Did you have a nice time at your meeting, Mummy?’
‘I did, sweetheart. It was… very interesting. And I’m quite tired now, too.’
‘Shall we snuggle on the sofa when we get home, and watch some Peppa Pig?’
I laughed. ‘Do you know what, Poppy? That sounds like the nicest idea I’ve heard for a long, long time.’
Jack could easily have ruined my life as well as Crystal’s, and he could have blighted my daughter’s life, the way he’d blighted Evie’s. But I wasn’t going to let him – because I was going to make a good life for us both, and be happy. And if I could, I’d help Crystal do the same, too. That probably wasn’t going to be easy – I knew it might be hard to completely believe in her again, after all the mistakes she’d made. I understood some of the things, now, that had raised alarm bells before. She’d never taken Poppy to her own flat; that photo was of Evie. She’d never even taken her to her own part of town. Crystal had explained now that the woman on the bus who said hello again to Poppy, must have remembered seeing Crystal with Evie, years earlier and was too muddled to think about the age difference. The ‘mother and daughter’ outfit was bought for Evie, who never got to wear it when it would have fitted her – that broke my heart, but Crystal should have known it was a terrible error of judgement to give it to Poppy. Yes, for sure, she’d been too over the top with Poppy; I’d have to be sure she was going to calm that down in future – it had stopped her from thinking rationally about what she was doing. But I had a feeling we were going to put a lot of effort into making our friendship work now. And perhaps, in time, we could start to feel like a little family of our own.
But however much I pondered and wondered about the future – whether things would work out with Crystal, whether Evie would become part of our lives, whether I’d reunite with some of my previous friends and whether I’d eventually get enough money from Jack to actually make a difference to my life – I knew that none of this really mattered, as long as Poppy was happy. She might not have her daddy any more, but she had me, she had her grandparents – soon to be together again – and her friends at nursery, who were gradually becoming more important to her as she grew up. But her little world centred on me, and mine on her. Being the centre of somebody’s world was a privilege I’d never take lightly.
We were going to be OK. I’d make sure of it, no matter what. Jack would never know what he’d missed, and frankly I didn’t care. I’d promised Poppy I loved her more than all the daddies in the world could ever love her, and I was never going to forget that promise. Poppy and I were moving on. Together.
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Chapter One
It’s bitterly cold, the sort of cold that takes your breath away, and I’m gasping as I run from the bus stop to my daughter’s school. I’m not late today – not quite – but it seems that every other reception class parent is already waiting at the classroom door when I arrive. The door opens dead on the dot of three-fifteen and I clutch my side, panting, as the teacher begins to let out one child at a time. For once, Mia doesn’t have to be kept back in the classroom because I’m not there. It’s difficult to get away from work at exactly at two-forty-five to make it here in time, and the buses aren’t reliable. Mia goes to the after-school club two days a week (as well as going to the breakfast club) but I couldn’t get a place for her every day, so I’ve had to drop some of the hours I worked at the shop when she used to be at nursery all day. Fortunately Margaret, my boss, the elderly owner of Chapters Bookshop, is understanding, but part-time jobs are hard to find and I can’t afford to let her down.
Mia’s always tired when she comes out of school. It’s a long day for a four-year-old, even on days like this, when she’s not staying for the extra couple of hours. It was different, somehow, at nursery, where the emphasis was just on play, and there was always a rest time.
We’re going to the nursery now, to pick up her baby brother. Archie’s quite happy to be left there every day – so far. It’s still quite a new experience for him. He started there when my maternity leave finished when he was a year old, in November, and we’re only in January now.
‘When can we go home?’ Mia’s whining now, dragging her feet as we walk down the main road to the nursery.
‘As soon as we’ve got Archie.’
She sighs and smothers a yawn. She never tells me much about what she’s been doing at school, but her teacher says she’s fine, that she mixes all right with the other children and does whatever she’s asked to do without any apparent problems, so I don’t badger Mia for information. She just wants to relax when she’s at home.
Archie, on the other hand, is full of beans when we arrive at the nursery. He toddles a couple of steps across the room to me, smiling and shouting some of his few understandable words before tumbling down abruptly on his padded bottom and laughing.
‘Mumma!’ he calls out, holding out his arms to be lifted up. ‘Hup-up!’
I carry him outside and put him in his buggy. Mia’s complaining that her legs ache as we start the walk home, and I try to distract her with the promise of a drink and biscuit when we’re indoors. It’s a short walk from here, and I’m at the bottom of the stairs up to my flat, just starting the process of folding the buggy, holding onto Archie’s arm to stop him trying to crawl away, as Mia skips up the stairs, chanting, ‘One, two, three, six, seven…’ when a voice from behind me calls out breezily:
‘Well, hello! You must be our upstairs neighbour. I wondered when I’d bump into you.’
I turn around and nearly drop the buggy, blinking in shock at this woman – who’s the same sort of age, somewhere in her early fifties, I guess, and has the same short dark hair, round face and even the same sort of glasses, as my mum. Except that my mum died when she was around that age. It gives me such a jolt that for a moment I can’t talk. I let go of Archie’s arm and he starts, on all fours, to follow his sister up the stairs.
‘Are you all right, love?’ the woman asks as I now drop the buggy while rushing to grab hold of Archie. ‘Can I help?’
‘Sorry, no, I’m fine, sorry,’ I gabble. ‘Er… hello. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jess. I presume you’ve moved in at number one?’
The flat downstairs from mine has been empty for a few weeks. It’s been a relief, to be honest, not to have to keep reminding the children not to shout, and telling Mia not to thump around on the floor. But it seems I now have a new neighbour.
‘Yes, I’m Helen,’ she says, and comes over to me, taking hold of the folded buggy. ‘Nice to meet you, too, Jess. Go on, you take the baby, I’ll carry the pushchair up for you.’ She gives me a smile. ‘It must be hard, going up and down the stairs with them both.’
‘Oh, I’ve got used to it,’ I say. ‘But thank you, um – Helen.’
