Taken: Part 2 of 3. Rosie Lewis
I answered and then waited for the social worker to continue. With Peggy, I had learned to let the conversation flow at her own pace. Asking questions had a tendency to slow up proceedings and make her bad-tempered.
‘The police were called. Jem’s in custody but he’s made a counter-allegation against the partner. It’s all a big mess. No, not that one,’ she added impatiently, her voice suddenly muffled. ‘The white printer, over there. Sorry, Rosie, I wasn’t talking to you.’ There was a tapping sound, an impatient tutting. ‘Where was I?’
Peggy continued with the tale, pausing intermittently to answer a colleague or take a gulp of tea. From what I could make out, there had been a domestic between Christina’s father, Jem, and his partner, Jackie. I sat in my wicker chair and listened, the sun warming my face, Megan doddering busily to and fro. I could hear her twittering to herself. Every so often she stopped, pointing to something of interest. ‘In a nutshell, things aren’t looking too hopeful for them. Well, what I mean is, they’ve effectively ruled themselves out. There’s no way I can take them forward, even if neither of them are charged. So, if you want to be considered, Rosie, now’s the time to put your intentions in writing.’
My heart soared with happiness as Peggy ended the call. I sat for a moment, embracing the phone to my chest. Across the garden, Megan had stopped mid-crawl beside a large shrub. Grasping the leaves, she ran her thumb over the dark glossy folds, small mouth pursed in concentration, cheeks rosy from the sun. Rising on bent knees, she leaned in closer, staring fixedly.
‘What is it, sweetie?’ I asked, moving to kneel at her side. ‘Oh, I see,’ I whispered. About three inches from her nose, a bee was hovering above a velvety white flower. ‘That’s a bumble bee,’ I said. She turned to me, her eyes suddenly snapping shut in a sneeze. She blinked and shook her head, eyes wide with wonder and then her head wobbled as another sneeze took hold. ‘Ah, bless you,’ I laughed, tapping my forefinger on her nose. She giggled and threw her short arms around my neck. My heart swelled at the thought that she might one day be ours.
I couldn’t wait for Emily and Jamie to get home so that I could discuss the possibility with them.
Having spent months imagining how they might react, I felt a tightening in my chest as I waited for Emily and Jamie to come home. If they showed the slightest reluctance to the idea of keeping Megan, I knew I couldn’t possibly even consider the idea again. I also knew they’d be tired – my ex-husband, Gary, and his new partner, Tammy, had managed to get tickets to watch the basketball down at the Olympic Park in London and they’d left before 5 a.m. that morning – but I didn’t want to put off the conversation any longer. With Megan tucked up in bed, I busied myself in the kitchen, wiping surfaces that were already clean and drinking far too much tea.
They got back at twilight; the sun softening as it lowered itself over the garden. At the sound of Gary’s car I kneeled up on the sofa to peer outside. Gary climbed out of the driver’s side, gave Emily a hug and ruffled Jamie’s hair. Tammy, red-haired and pretty, stayed where she was but lowered her window and called something out as they crossed the drive. I couldn’t hear what she said but the pair of them turned in unison and burst out laughing, Emily stopping to give them a friendly wave as they drove away. I felt a tiny pang in my chest at the sight.
‘How was it?’ I asked, meeting them in the hall. I forced a jolly tone, trying hard to suppress the niggle of envy in my stomach, the childish part of me feeling left out of what had clearly been an enjoyable family trip. It felt odd to know that, even though I had acknowledged years earlier that there would be no chance of reconciliation, there was now no way back to the nuclear family I had always hoped to be part of. I had often worried about the effect our divorce might have on the children in years to come and I felt a stab of resentment towards Gary for putting them through the awkwardness of meeting another new partner. At the same time I knew it wasn’t reasonable to feel that way. He had a right to make a life for himself.
‘It was so cool!’ Jamie cried, tossing himself onto the sofa. ‘We watched some diving as well as the basketball. And we went to the velodrome as well. There wasn’t any cycling going on, but Dad got talking to one of the trainers on Team GB and he showed us some of the bikes. They’re amazing!’
I summoned an even bigger smile. ‘Fabulous! Ems, did you enjoy yourself?’
She eyed me cautiously. ‘It’s a beautiful place, Mum. The only downside was all the sport.’ Jamie rolled his eyes at that. She jutted her chin, threw him a look. ‘But I loved the park, and lunch was nice.’
‘What did you have?’
‘Oh, nothing special really,’ Emily said, averting her gaze. She was being kind, bless her, but my heart twisted; I didn’t want her to feel it was her job to protect my feelings. I reminded myself of the time I was asked by a birth parent to stop taking her child swimming, ‘’cos she’ll expect to do that sort of thing all the time when she gets back home and I don’t want her spoilt’. Going to the Olympics was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and I knew I should have been pleased that they’d been able to go.
Jamie raised his head. ‘What? Yeah, it was. Tammy’s got this huge picnic basket with proper glasses and knives and forks and stuff. She brought chicken wings and pork ribs and wraps and so much salad.’ He bunched his fingers together, kissing the tips noisily as he smacked his lips. ‘It was like being at Nando’s.’
I felt really bugged then. ‘How about that?!’ I said, raising my eyes minutely in Emily’s direction. Jamie carried on raving about his day, but Emily met my gaze and put the back of her hand to her mouth, stifling giggles. Somehow, that tiny acknowledgement of my feelings made them seem misplaced and ridiculously overblown. I laughed back. My heart felt lighter.
A bit later, after they’d showered, I sat between them on the sofa and readied myself to broach the subject of Megan. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ I said tentatively, resting my head back on a cushion and running the tips of my fingers over the inside of my palm in an effort to look casual. ‘What would you think about Megan staying here permanently?’
Emily, who had been curled up against the armrest, swung her legs to the floor and sat up. She looked at me, brow furrowed. ‘Permanently? How could she?’
I lifted my head. ‘Well, we could ask to adopt her, if you both think it’s a good idea.’
‘Oh, my God, really?’ She clasped her hands. ‘Can we? Really?’
I nodded, smiling. ‘Peggy seems to think so.’
‘Oh, wow! I’ve always wanted a sister!’ She looked across at Jamie, who, less excitable than his sister, took longer to react.
‘Well, Jamie?’ I prompted, although I could already tell by the curl of his lips that he liked the idea. ‘What do you think?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m already outnumbered. What difference will one more girl make?’
Emily clasped my hands. We stared at each other for a moment, then leapt from the sofa and jumped around the room like excited five-year-olds.
The next day, when Emily was in her room, I sat beside Jamie on the sofa and asked him to pause the online football game he was playing so that we could have a chat. ‘What’s up?’ he asked, one eyebrow half-cocked.
‘Did you mean what you said about Megan? You’re not just saying it because you think it’s what I want to hear?’
When it was just the two of us he often dropped the cool teenage persona and morphed into someone younger. He leaned into me, bestowing the most affectionate hug he was able to give while clutching his gaming handset. ‘Course not.