Circle of Doubt

by Buchanan, Tracy

  I think this discussion needs to end before it gets out of hand.

  Kitty Fletcher

  Fine, comments closed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wednesday 23rd September

  8.40 a.m.

  Emma walked towards the playground with Isla, checking her phone as she did. She’d sent Lawrence’s proposal for her boss to check over the night before and he’d already sent his feedback – it was going to be a busy morning! There was also an email from the school saying the deadline for payment for Isla’s trip to Warwick Castle had been extended until the week after next, which was great as it meant one less task for her to deal with. She quickly moved the payment reminder to the new date and popped her phone back in her pocket.

  She wouldn’t be needing her phone now she had other mums to chat to!

  She was actually looking forward to going into the school playground that morning. She’d even got tickets for the school disco, which was taking place the next week. In fact, she was going to suggest they all sit at the same table.

  In the distance, she saw Tatjana, Lucy and Myra chatting in a circle. She walked over as Isla was pulled away by one of her friends. It felt so good to finally feel part of the ‘in crowd’.

  But when she approached, all three women fell silent, Lucy and Myra exchanging dark looks.

  Emma hesitated. Had she done something wrong?

  ‘Oh look, there’s Ellie,’ Lucy said. ‘I really must chat to her about the harvest assembly. Have a good day!’ She hurried off, peering over her shoulder at Emma and frowning.

  What was that all about?

  ‘I’d better head off, too,’ Myra said. She rubbed Tatjana’s arm, giving her a smile, then wandered off.

  ‘Do I smell or something?’ Emma said, pretending to sniff her armpits.

  Tatjana laughed, a light tinkle. ‘You smell divine! They’re just busy doing mum stuff. Speaking of which, I must grab Zeke’s teacher, I’m worried he has a bit of a temperature so want to warn them.’

  She gave Emma a wave then skipped off, leaving her alone.

  Emma bit her lip. Was it her imagination, or were other mums around the playground giving her funny looks?

  It was the same the next few mornings and the whole week after that, too. While Tatjana was fine with her, chatting away about how her house was coming along and the big Halloween party they were planning for when it was finished, the other parents seemed to blank her. Emma felt like she was back to being that lonely kid in the playground again.

  No, actually, it was worse than that. At least she was invisible then. Now she felt seen and reproached, too.

  What on earth had she done wrong?

  She was starting to regret getting tickets for the school disco now. If things continued like this, it was going to be awful!

  When the time came for the disco the next Friday, Emma stared at herself in the mirror. Was she a bit overdressed for it? She was wearing a pair of shiny black trousers and a bright-red off-the-shoulder top. Sort of rock goddess/casual-smart. She pushed a stray lock of her red hair behind her ear, peering at her face. Maybe she’d put too much eyeliner on? She grabbed a tissue and rubbed at it.

  God, she was just so nervous about it! It wasn’t just the fact it was the first school disco they’d be going to in Forest Grove: back in London, the stale sandwiches and awful music didn’t really justify much more than a rub of lip gloss and a clean pair of jeans. But everything was so well thought out in Forest Grove. There would probably be a bloody champagne fountain with performances from some trendy local band!

  No, it wasn’t just that. Emma still had the sense that the other mums were talking about her. It had been the same the past few days, even at the weekend when she’d popped into the courtyard to get some bread and noticed a couple of the school mums giving her what appeared to be filthy looks. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something felt off kilter. Could it be that little to-do she’d had with Kitty Fletcher in the bakery? Or something else?

  ‘Wow. I feel a bit underdressed now,’ Dele said as he took in her outfit. He was in his usual uniform of skinny jeans and a checked shirt.

  ‘It’s a bit much, isn’t it?’ Emma said, going to pull her top off. ‘I’ll wear something else.’

  ‘No, don’t!’

  ‘So I look good?’

  He paused for a few seconds. ‘You look great. Really great,’ he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  ‘You hesitated!’

  He laughed. ‘You always say that. Don’t read into it, it’s just my inability to decipher women’s fashion. Remember when I referred to that jumpsuit you wore at Isla’s celebration gathering as a boiler suit?’

  Emma laughed, too, remembering that day. It had been so special. Isla had been living with them for a few months and had been officially adopted. A few weeks after the court hearing to confirm the adoption, there was a celebration day which gave them the chance to welcome Isla into their family. It had been particularly special for Emma as she just hadn’t been able to relax until everything had been made official, thinking any moment that the rug would be pulled out from under their feet and Isla would be snatched away from them. Her nerves had been even worse on the court day itself. Emma and Dele were not allowed to attend, but Jade was – and Emma had spent the day wondering if something would go wrong. But in the end Jade hadn’t even turned up and no nasty skeletons had reared their heads.

  It all went perfectly.

  So when the celebration day arrived, Emma felt relaxed. Emma’s mother and Ray had come; Harriet had been there too, along with Dele’s parents and two sisters. The only blip was that Emma’s father hadn’t been there. Though her mother and Harriet had pleaded with Emma not to invite him – the last time he’d attended one of his niece’s weddings, he’d got so drunk he’d had to be carried out by his brothers – she felt she needed to. She pitied him. Since her parents’ divorce, while her mum flourished, her dad was struggling. He was now living in his parents’ old flat – the same flat Emma had once lived in with her sister in London – drinking his life away and refusing any help from anyone. They rarely saw him now, not that they didn’t try. He hadn’t even met Isla yet, despite Emma offering to bring her to meet him. He simply hadn’t replied to Emma’s texts or letters about the celebration, though he had sent a small gift of books and a card when Isla came to live with her new parents, and he had once written back to one of Emma’s letters that she had filled with photos of his new granddaughter.

  Surely he would come to the celebration day, too? This was such an important milestone in Emma’s life . . . in his granddaughter’s life! But her dad hadn’t turned up.

  Still, she didn’t allow his absence to ruin the day. Isla was wearing a gorgeous white dress; there were balloons and cake. It was wonderful to officially welcome her into their family and after all the ups and downs of the adoption process – and those first few whirlwind months of having this beautiful, energetic and yes, confused and clingy two-year-old in their lives – things were finally beginning to feel normal.

  As Emma recalled all this, Isla walked in. She was wearing a plain beige jumpsuit, which Emma was planning to pack away to go up in the loft with the other summer stuff.

  ‘Won’t you be a bit cold in that, darling?’ she asked her daughter.

  ‘I’m wearing a throw,’ Isla declared, lifting a small green blanket up and draping it around her shoulders.

  Emma looked at it in surprise. It was the baby blanket Jade had given her! How had it got downstairs? Emma looked through to the spare room to where the sewing machine was waiting to go back up in the loft. It must have accidentally snagged on there when she brought it down the other day.

  ‘That’s your baby blanket, darling,’ Emma said gently, as Dele frowned.

  ‘I know,’ Isla said with a shrug.

  ‘Be careful with it,’ Emma continued, searching her daughter’s face to see if she understood why it was so important. ‘It’s the one you c
ame to us in, darling.’

  Isla was quiet for a few moments, then she smiled. ‘Oh. It goes with my outfit, doesn’t it?’

  ‘It does,’ Emma agreed. She always felt she was treading so carefully around Isla whenever anything cropped up to remind her she was adopted. They’d been transparent with her from the start and she had her life book to look through, too. But Isla preferred to avoid the subject and rarely mentioned it.

  ‘We ready to go?’ Dele asked.

  Emma took one last look in the mirror, then nodded.

  They all set off, heading towards the forest. As they walked along their road, the air smelt of bonfires and dying leaves.

  Isla leaned in close to her. ‘It’s so dark, Mum!’ she said in an excited whisper.

  ‘Not long until Halloween and bonfire night!’ Emma said.

  She squeezed Isla’s hand as they entered the forest. Around them, the trees seemed to press in, the crunch of twigs nearby making Emma jump.

  ‘You’re jumpy,’ Dele said with a laugh.

  ‘Mum’s scaaaaaared!’ Isla added.

  She was jumpy.

  When they got to the school, Emma saw the doors to the school hall were wide open, the scent of burgers and frying onions filling the air.

  ‘Loving the look, Isla!’ Isla’s teacher Miss Morgan said as they passed her. She was so popular with the kids, despite only moving to the village a year ago, and stood out in Forest Grove with her blue hair and pierced nose.

  ‘Shawls are all the rage, don’t you know?’ Dele said as Miss Morgan laughed.

  ‘Daddy,’ Isla said in a low hiss. ‘You’re being sarcy-astic.’

  ‘Yeah, stop being sarcy-astic, Dele,’ Emma said as Dele smiled.

  Walking into the hall, Emma could see it was already pretty busy. The lights were low and the wooden tables the school used for lunchtimes were set out for parents and children.

  ‘That iPad would’ve been nicked within five minutes where we used to live,’ Dele remarked as he eyed the iPad that was providing music through some speakers.

  ‘Oh, not here in Utopia,’ Emma replied, looking around her, pleased the lights were low so people couldn’t see her.

  ‘Let’s hope they have better beer than Isla’s old school too then. Look, Shawn and his wife are there,’ Dele said, gesturing towards Shawn and Faye who were sitting with their son at a table in the corner, their twelve-year-old daughter Charlotte chatting to a friend nearby. ‘Why don’t you go join them and I’ll get the drinks,’ he suggested to Emma.

  Emma looked at Faye. Would she be funny with her, too? Emma had never really talked to Faye – hopefully she was nice. She took Isla’s hand and they made their way over to the table.

  ‘I see you’ve got Dele to work,’ Shawn said, gesturing to Dele who was ordering drinks at the bar.

  ‘Isn’t that what husbands are for?’ Faye retorted, giving Emma a wicked grin as she twirled a lock of her blonde hair around her finger. She usually wore her hair up on the rare occasions Emma saw her in the school playground. Having it down and around her shoulders made Faye look less severe, more approachable.

  ‘Sexist!’ Shawn declared.

  Faye threw a napkin at him as Emma laughed.

  Maybe this disco wouldn’t be so bad after all. She took a seat across from Faye, smiling a hello to Shawn.

  ‘You must be Dele’s wife,’ Faye said. ‘I’m Faye.’

  She put her hand out and Emma noticed her nails were bitten like her own.

  Emma nodded shyly, taking her hand as Isla leaned against her, eyeing the crowds for her friends. ‘Nice to meet you, Faye.’

  ‘Please tell me you’re drinking wine too?’

  Emma pulled a face. ‘Sorry, I don’t drink, but I make a very good companion to wine drinkers.’

  ‘Good, I’ll need a companion tonight. How else am I meant to get through a school disco?’ Faye said.

  Two of Isla’s friends, Poppy and Tegan, ran up to her, pausing as they looked her up and down. They were wearing the standard school-disco outfits for girls of Isla’s age: denim shorts over thick tights topped by sparkly jumpers.

  ‘What are you wearing, Isla?’ Poppy asked.

  Isla jutted her chin up. ‘It’s fashion,’ she declared.

  ‘I like it,’ Tegan said.

  ‘I agree, Tegan,’ Emma said. She liked Tegan. In fact, she imagined she’d get on well with her mum, too, on the occasions she saw her. But she was usually in a rush to get her youngest son to pre-school so they never really had a chance to chat.

  ‘Thanks, Tegan,’ Isla said, giving Poppy a glowering look as they headed off to the dance floor.

  ‘I come bearing gifts!’ Dele said, weaving through the dancing kids to bring their drinks over. As he passed Emma her lemonade, Tatjana appeared with her husband and kids. She was wearing a jumpsuit just like Isla’s, a mustard-coloured shawl draped around her shoulders.

  Had they consulted or something?

  Emma looked down at what she was wearing. She suddenly felt very nineties rock compared to Tatjana’s effortless chic.

  She watched as Lawrence slung his arm around Tatjana’s shoulders, their two boys holding their hands. The whole family looked like they’d stepped out of a Boden catalogue.

  Emma saw Isla wave shyly at Tatjana. Tatjana waved back, then gently pushed the boys in Isla’s direction. They ran on to the dance floor and Isla took both their little hands as Tegan and Poppy fussed over them too.

  Isla looked so much like the boys!

  Like siblings.

  Emma shifted in her seat.

  ‘There’s your buddy,’ Dele said as he noticed Tatjana for the first time.

  ‘Buddy?’ Faye asked with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘Oh, I had lunch with Tatjana the other week,’ Emma said. ‘It was in their static home, it’s like a bloody mansion!’

  ‘What’s she like?’ Shawn asked. ‘Faye’s convinced she’s a fake.’

  Emma tilted her head. ‘A fake?’

  ‘Shawn, honestly, I didn’t quite say it like that,’ Faye said. ‘Emma is her friend, remember?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know her that well,’ Emma said. ‘It was more a business meeting. I’ve done a social media proposal for her husband.’

  ‘Is that how they do business meetings in the world of social media?’ Shawn said. ‘Having lunch with your client in a static home?’

  They all laughed.

  ‘So why do you think she’s fake?’ Emma asked Faye, intrigued.

  ‘Okay,’ Dele said, standing up, his beer in his hand, ‘I think this is our cue to find some of the other football lads.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Shawn said, standing with him.

  When they walked off, Faye shuffled her chair to be closer to Emma’s. ‘For a start, don’t you find her accent weird?’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Like she’s faking it. I swear I heard her slip into a Cockney London accent the other day.’

  London? . . . Like Jade.

  ‘I hadn’t really noticed it,’ Emma said, looking over at Tatjana, who was laughing at something Lucy Cronin was saying.

  ‘You will now I’ve mentioned it. Another thing. When I asked her about her qualifications to run the Design Divas session . . .’ Faye gave her a meaningful look. ‘Look, if someone’s going to be spending an hour with my daughter, I want to be reassured. Anyway, Tatjana told me she studied fashion at Edinburgh University, but they don’t even offer fashion there. I just don’t trust her,’ Faye concluded, watching Tatjana through narrowed eyes as she took another sip of wine.

  ‘I hear you’re a solicitor?’ Emma asked, feeling uncomfortable talking about Tatjana like that.

  ‘That’s right, family law. I hear you work in social media. Do you deal with crisis management?’

  ‘Absolutely. In fact, I spent most of today fielding tweets from students at Ashbridge University after their servers broke down.’

  ‘Ouch, poor them. You know, it’s the one thing I can’t q
uite wrap my head around,’ Faye confessed, ‘but I’m finding it increasingly comes up in my job. We deal with a lot of adoption cases and honestly, the number of birth parents managing to track their kids down on social media is ridiculous.’

  Emma paused with her drink halfway to her mouth. ‘That is interesting. I don’t know if you know, but Isla is adopted?’

  ‘I had no idea!’ Faye said as she watched Isla on the dance floor. ‘How interesting. I always thought how much she looks like you and Dele.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Sure. How old was she when you adopted her?’

  ‘Two. She’d been living with a foster family for a year.’

  ‘And before that?’

  ‘Birth mother.’

  ‘Ah yes, that’s when it becomes difficult for us, as the birth parent does tend to have more rights if their child has lived with them over a year.’

  Emma frowned, and Faye bit her lip. ‘Oh God, how insensitive!’ Faye said. ‘Shawn says I always get too carried away when talking shop. Don’t worry, you have nothing to worry about, it’s very rare, birth parents coming to look for their kids. How about we change the subject?’

  Emma smiled in relief. ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘So, how long have you been with Dele?’ Faye asked as she watched their husbands talk to some of the other dads.

  ‘Fifteen years. What about you and Shawn?’

  ‘Twenty! Do you know what?’ Faye said as she looked at Shawn. ‘I didn’t fancy him when I first met him.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah! I know he’s gorgeous, but I never really went for the obvious hot-guy look. He had to pursue me, can you believe it!’

  ‘I can believe it, you’re gorgeous!’

  ‘Not with this thing,’ she said, referring to her long, slightly crooked nose, which Emma thought actually added to her attractiveness. ‘Anyway, it’s all different now, of course,’ Faye said as she laughed. ‘I can’t keep my hands off him. Funny, isn’t it, how it turns around? He used to be the one that was pursuing me but now I swear to God, I’d go crazy if anyone tried to take my man off me! It’s the one thing that just turns me into a monster.’

  ‘Is anyone trying to take him off you?’