Months passed and Lucy's twentieth birthday arrived. She did nothing special. Mostly staying in bed until lunch, when an eager seventeen-year-old Jema came in and pulled her out the front door for a day out.
They did what all sisters (or at least most of them) do. They shopped and eventually took a long walk home.
Jema spoke first, Happy birthday, Lucy. She smiled almost sadly.
Thanks, Jema. Why are you sad? Jema looked away.
It's selfish of me to be sad on your birthday.
Oh, don't get all wussy around me. Tell. Lucy commanded.
Are ya leaving soon Lucy?
Oh Jema. I think I'll be staying here 'till the day I die. She laughed. Jema did not. The way things are looking, I'm not getting anywhere in my counselling. I might have to stay long.
But dad said you'd be alright by now. Jema muttered to herself.
Lucy heard.
Father? What made him think I'd be alright by now? She slowed her pace. Jema followed suit and replied,
He's been checking up on you with your counsellor, Lucy. Normal father stuff you know.
No, Jema. Everything that goes on is meant to be confidential. Becky's been telling father about me? And you've known all along? What else is father doing with Becky? Her voice was bitter. She felt betrayed.
Jema gasped. Lucy don't speak anout dad like taht! It's fine, nothing's going on. Jema laughed nervously. Um...how is the new guy? She changed the subject. It was the first time she had ever asked about Jack.
I wish I could say he makes me swoon, Lucy lied, choosing to leave the subject changed. But the topic. got her thinking about how he always seemed to secretly speak to her during serious conversations in meetings. How he might catch her glancing ag him and she would quickly look away, flusttered, I wish I could say he does...but, he doesn't. Well not really I guess. She bated the way the lie rolled from her tongue.
Are you sure Lucy?
Why do you care?
Well...you haven't known love since your bird.
Lucy quickly turned away, It's little birdy. She muttered to herself.
The weeks that passed were more depressing than any she had ever lived through. She found she was fighting with herself, asking whether she should still be thinking of calling Jack, the real Jack. But it had been months and there seemed no point. She decided to forget little Birdy, who had been a big part of her life. She would write one more time in her diary to him and then lock it away and forget where she would hide it.
She also found herslef wondering whether she should confront her father about his unwanted snooping. But later decided against it.
She would carry on living until she was out of the support group.
