The Broken Ones

CHAPTER 7

GWEN

The doorbell rings. I open the front door.

"Mummy!" Emma shouts and hurls herself into my arms. "I'm home!"

My eyes meet my mother's over Emma's tousled hair.

"Gwen. Everything's going to be okay." She strokes my face.

"Mummy," I whisper. I can't remember the last time I called her that.

"Oh, Gwen. Mummy's here." She looks as if she's trying hard not to cry.

She draws me in for a long, comforting hug. I breathe in my mum's scent. Emma wriggles free and stares at us, before pulling at my arm.

"Mummy, I dressed myself," Emma says importantly.

"Good girl. You're so independent," I say, giving her a hug. My daughter needs to learn to dress herself. Fend for herself. Think for herself. Suit herself. Survive. On her own. Take no shit. From anyone. Ever.

She skips into the kitchen, so proud of her achievement.

"Where's Daddy?' she asks cheerfully.

Oh God. Not now. Not ever, actually. "At work, pumpkin," I say lightly. No doubt he is.

"Oh," she says. She gives me a little push. "Go upstairs, Mummy. Lie down in your bed."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you, Mummy," she says. "It's a surprise. Now go." She's bossy.

I climb upstairs, get into bed. Lie still and wait.

"Happy Birthday, Mummy!"

I look up to see Emma carrying in a tray, my mother smiling beside her. My heart swells and aches at the same time.

My birthday breakfast is Cornflakes mixed with Coco-Pops, soggy now and drowning in a pool of sugar.

"Thank you so much, pumpkin. I'm so proud of you. Come up here beside me."

"Eat up," Emma says.

"Yes ma'am," I grin. And get going.

Beside me, Emma watches each spoonful reach its intended destination.

"Best breakfast ever," I say. My mother laughs.

Emma's wooden, hand-crafted rabbit gift takes my breath away. "Gwandma and me walked all over looking for your present. And then we found this shop. It was full of ducks. Big ducks. Small ducks. Sleeping ducks. Blue ducks. Red ducks. Green ducks. Yellow ducks. Rainbow ducks! So many many many many ducks!" Swinging her arms wide now. "The lady asked me if I wanted a duck but I said I wanted a wabbit!" Emma says excitedly. "So she brought out this wabbit" --- thrusting it into my face --- "She said it's the only wabbit in the whole store! Look at it, Mummy! Isn't it the most beautiful wabbit you've ever seen?" It is beautiful. And big. Possibly the biggest rabbit in England. It comes up to Emma's head.

The beautiful oil painting Mum presents me with makes me cry. It shows a woman smiling down at a baby girl in her arms who looks up trustingly into her mother's face.

"I guess her daddy's at work too," Emma says, staring intently at the baby girl.

My eyes meet my mother's. Hers look unbearably sad.

My mother tells me later, quietly, "I'm here if you need to talk."

"I know, Mum. Just --- not today."

Simone calls from London.

"So have you left that fucker yet?"

"I told him to go."