Page 78 of Emma
Emma felt herself beginning to relax a little. Perhaps it was the brief conversation with Vanessa, maybe it was just the knowledge that she could only have whatever Freya allowed. Either way, she would get through this meeting and leave the coffee shop with her head held high…no matter the outcome.
I’ll be here for you when you get home. I love you, too.
The bell above the door jingled, and Emma looked up instinctively. Carmen was walking in, scarf wrapped tight around her neck, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail. She scanned the coffee shop quickly before spotting Emma, her lips curving into a polite yet tentative smile.
“Hi,” Emma said as she stood to greet her.
“Hi, Emma.” Carmen shrugged off her coat and took the seat opposite, setting her bag down by her feet. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”
“Not at all,” Emma said, though she suspected the warmth in her tone was doing most of the work in softening the truth. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Of course.” Carmen folded her hands on the table and took a deep breath. “I was surprised to hear from you, given my attitude towards you so far.”
Emma lifted a shoulder. “I understand. I’ve come out of nowhere. You’re bound to be apprehensive about me.”
“Still, I wanted to apologise before we discuss anything further.”
Emma nodded slowly, thrown by the sheer difference in Carmen this afternoon. Just last week, Vanessa had practically thrown her out of the house. “I ordered more coffee a few minutes ago. I took a wild guess and pinned you for a cappuccino drinker…”
“I’ll gladly accept it. I’ve already worked sixty hours this week. I’m dead on my feet.” Carmen relaxed back in her seat and sighed. “NHS nurse. I don’t think I need to say anymore than that.”
Emma smiled. “Got it.”
“So, you wanted to talk…” Carmen paused when the server brought their coffee, followed by a small ramekin of brown sugar cubes. They both thanked her, and then Carmen’s eyes landed back on Emma. “About Freya, yes?”
“Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about her email.”
Carmen lowered her eyes, focusing on the frothed milk with a heart laced through it. “Since I found the picture, and since she admitted that she knew she had a sister, it’s been relentless.”
“The picture?” Emma asked, frowning. “I don’t know anything about a picture.”
“I found it several weeks ago now. In her bedroom, tucked inside her pillowcase. At first, she wouldn’t admit that she knew who you were, but I’d already turned it over and found the writing on the back. My sister. Emma.”
Emma’s breath caught. She’d had no idea a picture of her existed, let alone that it was in Freya’s possession. “Where did she get this picture from?”
“She told me she’d had it for a couple of years before she came into our care. Your parents didn’t know she’d found it, but she already knew about you before the picture surfaced. Your mum often criticised you in front of her.”
“Yeah.” Emma scoffed. “She liked doing that a lot.”
“You really had no idea Freya existed?”
Emma held up her hands and sighed. “I swear. Until she came to my office and told me, the thought had never crossed my mind.”
Carmen nodded, her eyes softening a little more. “I’ve tried to undo some of the things your mum told her, but…” She trailed off, pressing her lips together. “Kids remember the first version they’re told.”
Emma’s chest ached at that. “I want to help her unlearn it. I don’t want her thinking for a second longer that I left because I didn’t want her. Or as she put it…hated her.”
“I think that’s going to take time,” Carmen said carefully. “She’s still young. She’s processing a lot right now.”
“I get that,” Emma said. “I don’t want to rush her. I just…I want to be there for her, in whatever way she’s ready for,whenshe’s ready for it.”
“Could you tell me about yourself?” Carmen asked as she stirred sugar into her coffee. “It won’t have any sort of reflection on how much or how little Freya sees you, but I don’t know anything about you other than your name and that you’re one of her teachers.”
“Sure. What do you want to know? I have no secrets.”
Carmen pondered for a moment, and then she looked back at Emma with a smile. “I think I’ll let you lead.”
“Okay, um…I’m thirty-five, and I live with my wife, who is also a teacher at Parkhaven. Vanessa has been teaching at the school for over thirty years now, and just last year we went through a cancer scare together.” Emma didn’t know why she’d chosen to start there, but maybe something deep down hoped it would show her human and vulnerable side. “She had a bilateral mastectomy, so I’m sure you can understand that the last year has really taken its toll on us.”
