Poison

Maybe I was every bit the cunt everyone believed me to be.

But even though the pang of guilt in me said that I was a cunt who should have seen things better and tried harder, it couldn’t alter a thing.

Because I didn’t love Maya.

I’d never loved Maya. I’d just been trying to create one sliver of good from a mistake so fucking bad, and it had never made any difference.

I loved Anna. I’d always loved Anna. I’d do anything to have her back.

But Mother had taken her from me with one disgustingly fronted office visit. Just like she’d been so keen to take her from me the first time around with her spouted advice.

She was still pointing the finger as she summoned up her next words.

“You’ll thank me for this one day,” she said. “Believe me, you’ll thank me for this!”

My eyes were on fire as I stepped back up close. Her jabbing finger trembled when she saw how serious I was in my rage.

My words were a simmer of pure fucking venom.

“Believe me, I’ll never fucking thank you for this, Mother. Stay out of my fucking life if you can’t respect it.”

I didn’t bother saying goodbye, just stormed out of there and slammed the door closed behind me.

I lit up a cigarette before I was even clear of her driveway, heart still pounding hard as I drove out onto the Lydney back lanes and called Anna’s number all over again.

Yet again it went to voicemail.

Yet again I begged her to answer me.

But she wouldn’t.

Of course she wouldn’t.

Anna was always sure of her own mind – it was one of the things I loved most about her. How fucking typical that it was now the main thing about her that would cost me her love.

There was no doubt about it – Anna’s mind had told her loud and fucking clear, thanks to my mother, that I needed to be with my daughter, whatever the cost.

I called her again. It went to voicemail again.

I left another message and sent another text. But nothing.

She’d delivered her decision to leave me in a short, sharp, cold little phone call she’d been hiding back so much in, and it was pitiful, but I knew why.

I knew there was no way she’d have been able to tell me in person without both of us breaking from the pain.

I thought about driving round to her place and seeing her in person, because I knew it would be so much harder for her to stay fixed on her decision in the flesh. But she’d never answer the door. And neither would Vicky Mason, no matter how much I begged her to. Hell only knows what the fuck Nicola Henshaw would do if she was the one to answer.

I nearly leapt out of my skin when a text finally sounded through, fingers shaking around my latest cigarette when I saw it was from Anna.

Please God. Please fucking God, give me a chance.

But no.

I’m doing this for you. And I’m doing this for your daughter. Please don’t make this harder than it is for me. I won’t be changing my mind.

I tried to reply. I really did.

I managed to get a we’re supposed to be together, Anna, we’ve always been supposed to be together message over to her and was typing out another when her next came through.

Maybe we will be together in another lifetime, she said, with a kiss, and then she sent a last little goodbye.

That was it. A goodbye.

I was typing another message as quickly as I could, begging her to listen to me and give me a chance to work this out, but when I tried to send it my number was blocked. I couldn’t send a text and the number no longer went to voicemail when I called her. It went to a dead line.

My forehead was against my steering wheel and my breaths were nothing short of retches when another ping sounded out. It took me a few minutes to get my senses together enough to look at the text, and when I did it made me retch a whole load harder.

Nerves, and guilt, and regret, and fear.

And relief.

And pain.

So much fucking pain.

The message was from Maya, and it should have been everything I wanted.

We’re coming home tomorrow, it said. You can come and see Millie. We need to talk.

But even now I slammed my forehead right back on the steering wheel as my guts bubbled higher.

Seeing Millie would be heaven. Talking to Maya would be hell.

Even if I did want to talk to her. Even if meeting up with Maya was something that made perfect sense on some fated plane out to kick me in the ribs at the cost of love, just what the holy fuck was I going to say to her?