It’s not a toy, Nattie Hart muttered, setting her mug down with a sigh as Sophie Whitaker dabbed at the tears that kept escaping her laughter. The kitchen suddenly felt cramped, and the steep smell of brewed tea was almost cloying.
Sophie, Im serious. I want to adopt a child from a children’s home, Nattie said, the ceramic warm between her fingers.
Sophie waved a hand and let out another giggle. Oh, come off it! At our age we think about grandchildren, not about swapping nappies!
Nattie clenched the mug tighter. Across the table, Sophie was pinkcheeked from laughter, oblivious to how sharply her words cut.
Listen, Sophie, Nattie leaned forward. I want a child for myself. My life feels empty without one. Ive been married twice, both ended badly, and I cant have kids of my own because of my health. So I need to fill this
Hold on! Sophie snapped a hand up. Do you realise what youre saying? Its not a toy! Its a lifelong responsibility!
Nattie slumped back in her chair. Sophie’s grin faded, replaced by a solemn look.
And if something happens to you, Nattie? What will happen to the child? Youre on your own! And the money? Do you know how much it costs to raise a child? Clothes, food, clubs, school, university!
Ive thought about that, Nattie replied calmly. I know they prioritize younger children, so Ill take a three or fouryearold. I can work from home and devote all my spare time to them. Ill manage.
Sophies dark hair fell over her shoulders as she shook her head. You dont get it! Raising a child isnt just working from your sofa. It means getting up at night when they cry, spending hours in hospitals when theyre ill, giving up your own social life!
Ill manage. Im not looking for a relationship. My salarys good, I have savings, I own a flat. Nothing to worry about.
Its not about the money! Sophie sprang up, pacing the kitchen. Youll never cope! This child will ruin your life! You have no idea what youre getting into!
Nattie rose slowly, her fingers gripping the edge of the table. Your son didnt ruin your life. You manage, and you seem happy.
Sophie snapped, Of course I am! I have a proper family, a husband! Im thrilled! And youre on your own!
The air between them thickened. Nattie stared at Sophie, halfincredulous.
A proper family? she repeated slowly. So Im incomplete?
Sophie tried to soften her tone. I didnt mean that. Its just easier with a husband. He helps, supports. Youve got no one.
Right, Nattie said coldly. Thanks for the support, sis.
Sophie snatched her handbag from the windowsill, her movements jerky. Im worried about you! I dont want you to do something foolish!
Leave, Nattie whispered, not looking up.
The door slammed. Nattie was left alone, the scent of halfdrunk tea lingering, the bitterness of the words hanging in the air. She sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands.
Maybe Sophie was right. Maybe she couldnt do it. Doubt swirled, every sisterly jab echoing like a punch to the chest. She pictured quiet evenings in her flat, the oppressive silence, the absence of a childs giggle.
For two days Nattie mechanically did her job, answering client calls, but her mind kept drifting back to the chat. She found herself scrolling through adoption pages, then promptly closing the tabs.
On Thursday evening her friend Megan called. Nattie, whats wrong? You sound down.
Nattie poured out the whole saga, the sting of Sophies words.
Your sisters being a right muppet, Megan said firmly. Youre not alone. Im here, Mum and Dad are here. If anything happens to you, someone will look after the child.
Nattie pressed her forehead against the cool window pane. What if I cant handle it?
You will. Youre strong, smart, and youve got a golden heart. That child will have a happy life with you.
Megans pep talk steadied something inside Nattie. Yes, she wanted the child. Yes, she was ready to give love, care, a good life. She didnt care a whit about her sisters opinion.
Sunday she drove to her parents house in a leafy Surrey suburb. The car rolled up the familiar gravel drive, she opened the gate and walked to the porch.
Suddenly, loud voices rose from the back of the house. Nattie froze. It was Sophie and her parents, clearly midargument.
You must stop her! Sophie shrieked. She shouldnt have a child! Shes too old! She doesnt need one!
Nattie wants this, her mum protested. How can you say that?
Nattie slipped around the side of the house, heart hammering. From the kitchen window she heard Sophies angry tirade.
Im protecting not just Nattie but my own future! Sophie hissed. If anything happens to Nattie, that flat will go to my son. Its my inheritance!
Nattie felt the floor drop out from under her. So if Nattie adopts, that flat ends up with my kid, who has nothing to do with any of us! Sophie continued, wildeyed. All of Natties money goes to a stranger!
Silence. Then her dads voice, calm but firm. Sophie, do you know what youre saying?
I know! Im just looking after my familys interests!
Nattie could listen no longer. She stepped out from behind the hedges.
How could you treat me like this? she shouted.
All three turned. Sophies face turned ashen.
Nattie
You tried to stop me, said I wasnt capable, just because you wanted my flat and my money! Natties voice cracked. Youve got it all wrong!
Sophie flapped her hands, trying to explain. I didnt mean
I heard everything, Nattie snapped, stepping closer. And Im grateful you said it out loud. Otherwise Id have kept doubting myself forever.
Her mum lowered her head, her dad stared at Sophie, baffled.
Nattie, listen Sophie began.
No! Listen to me! Nattie turned her back. Dont ever come near me again. Never.
She walked to the car without looking back. Behind her, the muted arguments faded. Determination burned bright in her chest.
The next months were a blur of paperwork, committees, psychologists, and social workers. Nattie pressed on, ignoring bureaucracy and delays. Each signature brought her nearer to the dream.
Finally the day arrived. Little Poppy clutching Natties hand shyly in the childrens home corridor.
Mum? Are you my mum now? the girl whispered.
Nattie sat beside her. Yes, love. Im your mum now.
Poppys smile filled Natties heart with a love shed never known. All those years of loneliness evaporated in an instant.
That evening Poppy explored her new bedroom, touched the toys Nattie had bought, and later they read a bedtime story together. Poppy fell asleep curled against Natties shoulder.
Natties parents welcomed their new granddaughter with gusto. Her dad, within a week, built a wooden swing set in the garden. Megan was thrilled tooher son Artie and Poppy became fast friends, playing whenever the families met.
The only lingering dark spot was Sophies presence at family gatherings. She would act as if Nattie didnt exist, turning away whenever she entered a room. It no longer bothered Nattie.
She had Poppy. A girl who rushed into her bed each morning with plans for the day, who proudly showed off her crayon drawings, who fell asleep to Natties lullabies and whispered I love you before drifting off.
Life finally had meaning.
When Poppy slept, Nattie sat on the edge of the bed, watching her daughters peaceful face. Gratitude swelledthanks to fate, to herself for daring, and oddly enough, even to Sophie, whose greed had opened Natties eyes.
Nattie smoothed the blanket and whispered softly, Sleep now, my sunshine. Mums right here.
