The nursery staff encourage parents not to linger, and even my own mother advised me to make drop-offs speedy to lessen the chance of Emilie getting upset, so I try to keep this in mind as I crouch down and fold my arms around her small body.
The thought of her crying and clinging to me is horrendous. I want to do the right thing by her, but I’m finding it hard to let her go. There’s a lump in my throat and tears are stinging the back of my eyes as she begins to withdraw. I fight the urge to clutch onto her more tightly and instead release her with a kiss to her forehead.
‘Have fun, darling. See you soon.’
‘Bye, bye, Mummy!’ Cath says brightly.
Emilie waves at me with one hand, while Cath takes her other hand and leads her into the nursery. I straighten up, and through blurry vision, become aware of a blonde woman of about my age standing nearby.
She gives me a sympathetic smile. ‘First day?’
I nod, swiping away a tear.
‘It gets easier.’
‘I hope so.’
Emilie is already absorbed in her game with Cath. I drag my attention away from them and give the kind stranger a shaky smile before heading back to the car and bursting into tears. Today is such a milestone. Theo should be here and it hurts so much that he’s not.
* * *
Becky has arranged to meet me at the Cracked Teapot to take my mind off things. Hayden is with her parents at home.
I’m grateful to have the company.
‘Aw, Lee,’ she murmurs as she swoops in for a hug. ‘She’ll be okay, darling.’
‘I know. She’s happy. But I can’t believe my baby is growing up so fast.’ I’m rooting around in my handbag for a tissue.
Becky puts one in front of my face. I take it and blow my nose loudly.
‘I mean, how did that happen?’ I ask in a strangled-sounding voice. ‘Not so long ago I was all she had. Now I’ve gone and handed her over to a bunch of nursery staff. It feels so strange and wrong, like she’s no longer mine and mine alone. She belongs to the world now. Does that sound weird?’
Becky shakes her head. ‘I’m yet to go through all that, but I believe you when you say it feels wrong. It’s not, though. It’s right. It’s the way it should be. She needs to meet other kids, learn to depend on other adults. Socialise. It’ll do her good.’
‘I know.’ I nod. ‘I know.’
‘It’ll be okay,’ she assures me, pressing her hand to mine.
‘I know.’
If I say it enough, maybe I’ll start to believe it.
* * *
Emilie is perky as anything when I go to pick her up, a proper cheeky chatterbox who can’t stop telling me about what she’s been up to for the last three hours. She’s run out of steam by the time we get home, though. It was an effort to keep her from dozing off in the car.
By 7 p.m., my perfect angel has conked out. I sit by her bed for a while, watching her rotating bird nightlight cast dancing shadows across her face. The sound of a car on the lane and the headlights glinting at the edge of the window frame have me finally leaving her room and going downstairs.
‘Are you expecting anyone?’ I ask Mum as I go into the kitchen and peer out of the window.
‘Oh, it’s George!’ I say with a thrill of anticipation at the sight of his truck. He’s still sitting in the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead.
What’s he doing?
I open the door and his head shoots towards me, his eyes round with an emotion I don’t recognise.
‘What is it?’ I ask with a mixture of alarm and curiosity as he climbs out of the truck and comes inside.
‘It’s Sophie.’ He drags his hand across his mouth. ‘She’s contacted me.’
‘What? On Facebook?’
He nods. ‘She’s read my letters. She’s seen her Life Story book. Her adoptive parents have told her all about me.’
I’ve never seen him like this before, so nervous and full of hope and yet very clearly overwhelmed.
I step forward and give him a hug, only to find that he’s shaking.
‘She still lives in Devon.’ He pulls away from me. He seems agitated, as though he can’t stand still. ‘She lives in Kingswear, right near Dartmouth. It’s only about ten miles from my place,’ he adds in a shocked whisper.
‘What’s this?’ Mum asks, coming into the room.
As George fills her in, a wave of darkness folds over me, along with the strangest feeling of calm acceptance.
But of course I was going to lose him again. I’ve known it all along, deep down.
He’ll go back to Devon. I’ll stay here. We’re on separate paths that the universe has set us on. We’ve always been on separate paths.
I push these thoughts from my head, wanting to concentrate on him, on the fact that he’s found his sister after all these years.
‘George, that’s amazing,’ I say when Mum has relinquished him from her embrace. She leads him through to the living room. ‘Come on, lad. Come and have a stiff drink.’
‘I can’t, I’m driving,’ he protests unsteadily.
‘Oh, hush, you can stay over.’
He doesn’t argue, sitting down on the sofa. He looks utterly shell-shocked.
‘I can’t believe it,’ he murmurs.
‘Have you replied to her?’ Mum asks.
He nods. ‘I gave her my number.’ He digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. ‘Her message was dated a few days ago, though. I don’t check very often so she might not see it for a while.’
‘Sit down with him, Leah. I’ll get him a drink,’ Mum commands.
I climb onto the sofa next to George, right up close to him with my knees pressing against his legs. He almost absentmindedly hooks his arm around my knees, but doesn’t look at me.
A black hole is expanding inside me. I’m trying to ignore the emptiness, but it’s hard. It feels a lot like grief. I’m grieving George’s loss before I’ve even had him. Again.
‘Will you come with me?’ he asks abruptly. ‘To Devon. When I go to meet her for the first time. Will you come with me?’
I stare at him. Does he remember that he asked me to go with him once before? And then he left without a word?
‘Emilie too,’ he says quickly, misreading my hesitation.
I nod. ‘Yes. Yes, I’ll come.’
He looks relieved. Mum returns with a sherry for him which he accepts without question.
‘Mum, get him a beer,’ I chide gently. ‘You’re the only one who likes sherry in this house.’
‘Right now, I’d drink anything.’ George knocks back half a glass and winces.
Mum rolls her eyes good-naturedly and tuts at me on her way out of the room. She returns with one of the cans he brought when he came for dinner.
‘Anything I can get for you, madam?’ she asks me haughtily, giving me a curtsy.
I laugh at her and shake my head. ‘No, I’m fine.’
‘Well, bugger it,’ she says. ‘I’m opening a bottle of champagne. I think this calls for a celebration.’
George and I smile at each other as she flounces from the room.
‘And we should celebrate today anyway!’ she calls back.