Chapter 8: The School Gate

Three weeks later, at five to three on a Thursday, I stood at the gate of Poppy's school with a paper bag in my hand.

Poppy's grandmother had told me on Sunday that Lydia had cancelled Poppy's cardiology follow-up.

She had also moved her to a new doctor, a friend of the Tarrant family, without telling anyone.

I had flown in that morning on a seven o'clock flight.

I was nearly five months along now, and my coat no longer closed over the curve.

Around me the other parents were gathering on the sidewalk, and I knew most of them.

One of the mothers saw me and waved, and then looked uncertain about it.

The doors opened at three.

Children came out in loose lines, and Poppy was near the back with her rabbit and her backpack.

She stopped.

Then she dropped the backpack on the pavement and ran.

I got down on one knee, and she hit me so hard I almost went over.

"You came back," she said into my neck. "You came back, you came back."

"I came to see you, bug. Just for a few minutes."

"Aunt Lydia said you left because you didn't love me."

"That's not true."

"She said it was because of the baby."

"It isn't true, Poppy. None of it."

I held her face in both hands.

She looked thinner, and there were shadows under her eyes.

"Did you take your pill last night?"

She looked at her shoes.

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