The Faithless - Martina Cole [107]
But she had to be honest with herself now. It wasn’t leaving her there that was the problem, it was that she left her there so often. Pretending that it was just because she knew her mother loved it, she had allowed her to become Cherie’s main carer. Cherie didn’t even want to come to Gabby any more, she just wanted her nanny. And who could blame her? Oh, she had been such a fool! And now she had a conviction for drug-dealing hanging over her. She felt sick.
‘Will I go to prison, Nana?’
Mary shook her head in despair. ‘I don’t know, Gabby, I honestly don’t know.’
Chapter One Hundred
Vincent O’Casey read the letter with growing anger and resentment. That his Gabby had been so foolish was one thing, but to find out that his child was now in the sole custody of Cynthia Callahan was quite another. After what Gabby had told him about her upbringing, he was not at all happy that his child was now at that woman’s mercy. Yet, according to this letter, her mother was now a changed character, and she was helping her daughter to get back on her feet.
Gabby, he kept reminding himself, was very young, and she had made a very stupid mistake. He could forgive her that – of course he could – but he could not forgive her abandoning their child like this. She was promising to come and see him in a few weeks. She had missed the last few visits, and her letters had been sparse as well. Now he fucking well knew why.
He had missed Gabby, but he had also missed the baby. He hadn’t seen her many times but he loved that child. She was a pretty contented little thing, always smiling and beautifully turned out.
This was the worst bit about being in prison; the world outside carried on, and there was nothing you could do about that. When things went wrong, like this trouble with Gabby, he couldn’t help because he was stuck in here. Being helpless to do anything for the people he loved was worse than anything else he could think of.
Chapter One Hundred and One
‘Look, Cherie, look at the pictures with Mummy.’
But Cherie wanted to get off her mother’s lap, and sit with her nanny. Cynthia was holding a drink of apple juice, which she knew was Cherie’s favourite treat at the moment. She picked up the child and sat her on her knee smiling at her daughter’s crestfallen countenance.
‘Listen to me, Gabriella – kids are amoral. They go to whoever feeds them. It’s nothing personal, darling.’
Gabby smiled but her heart wasn’t in it.
‘I’ll have to get her ready soon, love. She goes to a playgroup a few hours a day now, three times a week. She’s making friends, bless her heart. While she’s there, I nip up the shops, or go to the gym. I love her, darling, but she’s a handful.’
Gabby felt she was being dismissed; she knew her mother was telling her she had better go soon. She made her feel as if she was holding the pair of them up somehow, was in the way. In fact, she realised that her mother had not even offered her a cup of coffee. She had only been there twenty minutes, if that, and she was already being asked, albeit politely, to leave.
‘I can wait at the playgroup with her . . .’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Gabs, and, to be honest, I think you unsettle her. She has got into a routine, and Miss Byrne thinks she needs more structure in her life. Plus, I’ve arranged for her to go to tea with one of the little girls there. Dear little thing too, though not a patch on our Cherie!’
Gabby tried another tack. ‘But I’m taking her to visit Vincent tomorrow – he’ll expect to see her.’
Cynthia grinned then, and it was the old Cynthia for a few moments. ‘Well, not a lot he can do about that, girl, is there? He should have thought of that before he got himself banged up.’
‘But he wants to see her.’
‘Well, then, in that case, he’ll know what it’s like to want, won’t he? I promised Miss Byrne that I would do whatever is right for this baby and, at the moment, I don’t think you should be around her. Not until you’ve sorted yourself out. Drug addicts are—’
Gabby interjected, shocked