Rules for a Successful Book Club (The Book Lovers 2)

by Victoria Connelly

  ‘I wouldn’t say another word if I was you,’ Josh said, chuckling at the predicament his brother now found himself in.

  ‘Callie – I really didn’t mean it to sound like that.’

  Callie’s expression was one of half-amusement and half-shock. ‘I might have enjoyed a few Sunday lunches, but I don’t think I’m in the danger zone yet!’

  ‘Of course you’re not,’ Sam said, standing up and reaching out for her hands. ‘It’s just, you were such a skinny stick when you first arrived from London.’

  Bryony gasped.

  ‘A skinny stick? I’m not sure that’s less of an insult than calling me a porky heifer!’ Callie said.

  ‘I didn’t call you a porky heifer!’ Sam said.

  ‘Can you actually have a porky heifer?’ Frank asked. ‘I mean, pork and heifer are different animals, aren’t they?’

  ‘I don’t think we need to concern ourselves with that,’ Eleanor told her husband.

  ‘Perhaps I should jog around the footpaths instead of walking around them with you,’ Callie said with a wry grin. ‘It sounds as if I need to burn off all these extra calories!’

  Grandpa Joe was chuckling from his armchair and the noise woke up Grandma Nell.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

  ‘Our Sam’s just insulted Callie,’ Grandpa Joe said.

  ‘I didn’t insult her!’ Sam said.

  Callie play-punched him and shook her head. ‘I forgive you,’ she said.

  ‘But I didn’t–’

  She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

  ‘That is one forgiving woman,’ Grandpa Joe said as he began cracking walnuts with an old silver nutcracker. ‘Keep hold of her, Sammy.’

  ‘Yes, all ten tonnes of me!’ Callie quipped.

  The members of the Nightingale family who were going walking made a slow progress of putting on hats, scarves, gloves and boots, gathering dogs together and making sure that they had all the paraphernalia needed for a muddy country walk in the middle of winter.

  A gunmetal sky greeted them as they left the house and Bryony pulled a face. ‘What are we doing?’ she asked.

  ‘We’ll enjoy the fire all the more when we get back,’ Callie said. ‘I’ve come to love country walks in all weathers since moving to Suffolk.’

  ‘You are a strange one,’ Bryony said with a smile that showed she was teasing.

  The party walked down the lane, crossing the wooden footbridge over the ford.

  ‘This place always makes me shudder now,’ Sam said, thinking of the time he’d found Grandma Nell in the road there.

  Callie squeezed his hand in her gloved one. ‘I don’t think Grandpa Joe is ever going to let her out of his sight again.’

  ‘And I’m not going to let you out of mine,’ Sam said.

  ‘It would be pretty hard to considering how huge I am!’ Callie teased.

  Josh, who was walking just behind them, laughed out loud.

  ‘You’re not going to let me forget this, are you?’ Sam said.

  ‘Nope!’ Callie said.

  ‘Quite right too,’ Bryony said, linking arms with Jago.

  Polly, who was walking just behind with Dickens, tried not to look.

  They left the lane, taking a footpath through a wood where they let the straining dogs off their leads and watched as they chased each other through the undergrowth. Archie ran after them, but didn’t stand a chance of keeping up.

  ‘It’s beautiful here,’ Jago said, turning round to include Polly.

  ‘We used to play here as children,’ Bryony said. ‘I used to try and climb all the trees with Sam and Josh, but Polly would always be making funny little dens.’

  ‘You liked dens?’ Jago asked Polly.

  ‘I guess I was always trying to find a space to call my own,’ she said. ‘In a household full of brothers and sisters, it was sometimes hard to find a peaceful little corner.’

  ‘Ah, you see, I had the opposite problem,’ Jago said. ‘There was just me.’

  ‘I think it must be sad being an only child,’ Bryony said.

  ‘It wasn’t really,’ Jago said. ‘It’s what I was used to and it’s probably what drove me to write music.’

  Polly watched as Bryony looked up sympathetically at Jago. Had Bryony kissed him yet, Polly couldn’t help wondering? Not that the thought should bother her. She’d set them up, after all.

  The wood opened out into a field and the dogs raced ahead of them, startling a pair of partridges who flew up and over a hedge. The recent rain had left the field boggy and sticky and, as they came out onto a narrow country lane, they saw that it was flooded up ahead.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Polly said. ‘We’re not going to get through that.’

  ‘We don’t really want to double back, do we?’ Josh asked.

  ‘The dogs will get filthy if we go this way,’ Sam said.

  ‘They’re filthy already,’ Josh said and, sure enough, they were, their legs and bellies splattered with mud long before they reached the mammoth puddle.

  ‘We’re all wearing boots, aren’t we?’ Bryony said. ‘It’s not likely to be too deep.’

  The group approached the puddle. Archie was the first one in and the water was soon threatening to spill over the tops of his boots.

  ‘Archie – wait for me!’ Polly cried.

  ‘Hold on there, little guy,’ Jago said, swooping in and hoisting the youngster onto his back. Archie laughed.

  ‘I was kind of hoping he’d carry me across,’ Bryony whispered to Polly, ‘like when Angel Clare carries Tess across the flooded lane in Tess of the D’Urbervilles.’

  ‘That kind of thing never happens outside of a novel,’ Polly said. ‘You should know that by now.’

  ‘But I’m a romantic,’ Bryony said, ‘and continually live in hope.’

  ‘Then you’ll always be left disappointed,’ Josh said.

  ‘Have you been listening to us?’ Bryony said, glaring at her brother.

  ‘Nothing else to do out here,’ he said with a shrug before wading across the puddle.

  ‘Only one thing for it,’ Bryony said, grabbing hold of Polly’s arm. ‘Sisters are doing it for themselves.’

  The two of them walked through the water together, making it to the other side safely. Archie was still riding on Jago’s back and it looked as if Bryony wasn’t going to be able to claim his attention back anytime soon.

  ‘Polly?’ Bryony began.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I wanted to thank you for this whole Jago thing.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ Polly said, hoping that her face wasn’t heating up in discomfort.

  ‘I – erm–’ she lowered her voice, ‘I just wanted to make sure that you’re all right about me being with him.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Bryony shrugged. ‘You two seem close to me.’

  ‘We’re friends, that’s all,’ Polly said quickly.

  ‘Yeah?’

  Polly nodded. ‘He’s a fan of Archie’s.’

  Bryony looked ahead to where Jago was zigzagging across the little country lane like a show pony to whoops of joy from Archie.

  ‘And Archie’s certainly a fan of his,’ Bryony said.

  Polly watched the two of them larking about and, once again, felt a great pang in her heart at all that her son had missed out on in his years of growing up without a father.

  It was dark by the time they got back to Campion House. Boots were kicked off and neatly stacked and each of the three muddy dogs got a good rub down with a towel. It was as Polly was refilling the water bowls in the boot room that Jago managed to corner her again.

  ‘Hey,’ he said.

  She looked up and smiled briefly at him.

  ‘I’ll come round later, okay?’ he said.

  ‘No, don’t,’ she said, panic rising in her voice.

  ‘We’ve got to talk about this.’

  ‘I’d rather not.’

  ‘Polly – I’m coming round.’

  Josh
came into the kitchen. ‘Any food around?’ he asked. ‘I’m starving!’

  ‘How can you be starving after that massive lunch?’ Polly asked him, pushing passed Jago.

  ‘We’ve just been on a long walk. A guy needs to keep his energy up,’ Josh said.

  Jago nudged Polly gently as Josh popped his head into the fridge.

  ‘I’ll see you tonight,’ he said.

  The knock at the door came just after eight o’clock that evening. Polly and Archie were in the front room watching a BBC drama that was a little too dark to be enjoyable on a Sunday.

  Archie looked at his mum. ‘There’s someone at the door,’ he said, baffled that she wasn’t already answering it.

  ‘Leave it,’ she said.

  ‘Can I answer it?’

  ‘No, Archie,’ she said. ‘Anyway, it’s late. You should be in bed.’

  ‘But it might be important.’

  ‘It isn’t,’ she told him.

  He got up from the sofa and walked to the window, opening the curtains a crack.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ she told him.

  ‘It’s Jago.’

  ‘Draw the curtains.’

  ‘But it’s Jago.’

  ‘Just ignore it.’

  Archie looked totally stunned by this request and Polly knew that she was being unreasonable in not explaining things properly to him, but what could she say? That she was a married woman developing a ridiculous crush on a man much younger than her who just happened to be going out with her sister? That wouldn’t do at all.

  Another knock sounded. Jago obviously knew that they were at home and wasn’t giving up. Polly muted the sound on the TV.

  ‘I want to answer the door,’ Archie said.

  ‘It’s your bedtime, Archie.’

  ‘Awww, Mum!’

  ‘Go upstairs now.’

  ‘That’s so unfair. I want to see Jago.’

  ‘You spent the entire day with Jago,’ Polly said.

  They stood facing one another as if about to do battle, but then a strange noise greeted them and they looked at each other in bafflement.

  ‘Is that–’

  ‘It’s a guitar,’ Archie said. ‘He’s playing his guitar.’

  Polly frowned. She could definitely hear a guitar being played on her doorstep, but things got even stranger when the singing started.

  ‘What’s he think he’s doing?’ Polly asked as Jago’s voice got louder. It was the first time she’d heard Jago singing and she had to admit that he had a nice voice, but that wasn’t the point, was it? He was manipulating her into opening the door and she wasn’t going to do that.

  In the time it took her to have these thoughts, Archie had torn out of the living room and unlocked the door.

  ‘Archie – no!’ she cried as she followed him, but it was too late. The door was open and there stood Jago, his guitar slung around his body like a happy accomplice.

  ‘Mum wouldn’t let me answer the door,’ Archie said.

  ‘It’s late,’ Polly said.

  ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you,’ Jago said.

  ‘So you sing at the top of your voice on our doorstep?’ Polly said. ‘You’ll have old Mrs Letchworth ringing the police.’

  ‘Well, you said you wanted to hear me sing one of my songs,’ he said with a grin.

  ‘Yes, but not after eight o’clock on a Sunday evening,’ Polly said.

  ‘It was brilliant,’ Archie said. ‘Play it again!’

  ‘I don’t think your mum wants me to, Arch.’

  ‘Just ignore her,’ Archie said.

  Polly glared at her son.

  ‘Actually, Arch, I would like to speak to your mum about something in private. Would that be all right with you?’

  ‘Sure,’ Archie said, not even attempting to put up a fight. ‘I have to go to bed anyway.’

  Polly watched in amazement as her son kissed her good night, gave Jago a wave and then headed up the stairs.

  ‘As impressive as you are at getting Archie to go to bed,’ Polly began, ‘I really don’t think you should be here at all.’ She walked through to the living room and Jago followed her, closing the front door behind him. She turned to face him but, before she could say another word about why he shouldn’t be there and how he should leave immediately, he’d closed the space between them and captured her face in his hands and kissed her.

  Polly didn’t move and she certainly couldn’t say anything – not with Jago’s mouth upon hers – but she could have made some sort of protest if she’d really wanted to. Only she didn’t.

  ‘There,’ he said, when he released her.

  She looked into his slate-grey eyes, noticing the tiny flecks of green there for the first time.

  ‘We shouldn’t have–’ she began.

  ‘Yes we should,’ he interrupted. ‘We should have done that ages ago. You think too much, Polly. You try and rationalise everything, but some things aren’t neat and ordered. They’re messy and complicated.’ He smiled at her as he reached out to tuck a lock of stray hair behind her ear. ‘And wonderful.’

  ‘But I’m married,’ she whispered.

  ‘Yeah? Well, I don’t see a husband anywhere.’

  ‘Don’t be cruel.’

  ‘I’m not being cruel. I’m being honest. Sean’s been gone for over three years and you need to learn to live again. This half-life you’re living isn’t any good. It’s not making you happy, is it? Don’t you want something more? Don’t you want to have some fun? I know there’s something between us, Polly. Something good. And I think we should grab it.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because, if you haven’t forgotten, you’re involved with my sister.’

  ‘We went on one date,’ Jago told her.

  ‘And she invited you to Sunday lunch. That’s a big deal in our family. You’ll probably have to marry her now.’

  ‘I’ll explain things to her.’

  ‘She likes you, Jago, and I won’t hurt her.’

  ‘But if I talk to her,’ Jago began, ‘if I sort things out with her, will you think about seeing me then?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Polly said. ‘This is all so–’

  ‘Kiss me,’

  Her eyes widened at his demand.

  ‘Stop thinking and just kiss me.’

  Polly could feel her heart racing. Her head was telling her to end this now – to throw Jago and his guitar out of the front door and refuse to ever see him again, but her heart was telling her something else entirely and she gave into it, throwing herself towards him and kissing him with a passion that had been so deeply locked away for so long that she’d forgotten its existence.

  When they parted, Jago laughed and it was such a warm, wonderful sound that Polly joined in too.

  ‘Woah!’ he said. ‘I knew you had hidden depths, but I never imagined anything like that.’

  ‘Are you teasing me?’

  ‘Of course not,’ he said, stroking her right cheek. His hand was warm and she felt wonderfully shivery at his touch. ‘You’re amazing, Polly.’

  ‘This is crazy,’ she said.

  ‘Why?’ he asked, his head tilted to one side.

  ‘Well, for a start, I’m so much older than you,’ she said.

  ‘Really? I hadn’t noticed,’ he said.

  She shook her head. ‘You hadn’t noticed that I’m middle-aged?’

  ‘You’re not middle-aged.’

  ‘I’m thirty-five,’ she protested.

  ‘That’s not middle-aged!’ he said with a laugh.

  ‘It is compared to you,’ she said. ‘What are you – Twenty-one?’

  ‘Twenty-two,’ he corrected.

  ‘Exactly. I could almost be your mother, Jago.’

  He looked astonished at this declaration. ‘A thirteen-year-old mother?’

  ‘It happens.’

  ‘You’re just making excuses,’ he said, ‘and I’m not going to let you do that.’

  ‘Oh, aren’t
you?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nope. I’m going to shake things up around here.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘And you’re going to love it.’

  ‘But what will people say? I mean, if we do go out together.’

  ‘So you are considering it?’ he said with a little grin.

  ‘I’m just hypothesising.’

  ‘You don’t want to do that. Anyway, who cares what people think? If they have a problem, it’s their problem, not ours.’

  ‘I don’t like gossip and I certainly don’t want to be at the centre of any,’ she told him.

  ‘You’re not giving your friends and neighbours much credit, Polly. They’re probably all so busy with their own lives that they won’t even notice us together.’

  ‘But they have already. The village hall yesterday and Antonia Jessop–’

  ‘God, do you really care what somebody like her thinks?’

  ‘Yes, don’t you?’

  ‘No, of course not! And, if you’ve got any sense, you won’t either. Would you really stop yourself from enjoying life because of a fleeting thought that might or might not go through somebody else’s mind? That’s crazy!’

  Polly blinked. He was actually making a lot of sense to her. Why was she so worried about what other people thought? It was just a part of her character, she supposed. She was always very aware of conventionality and of playing a good and proper role in society and that didn’t involve going out with a much younger man when her husband might still be alive somewhere.

  ‘Listen,’ Jago said, ‘we don’t need to rush into things. You don’t need to be seen on the back of my bike, and I promise I won’t kiss the living daylights out of you in the middle of the next book club meeting. But I really like being with you and Archie. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. It just seems so natural to be with you two.’

  ‘I feel the same way.’

  He nodded and stroked her cheek again. ‘You’re really special. You know that, don’t you? And I want to be with you. Will you let me do that?’

  Polly reached a hand up to his face, mirroring his action, and nodded. He gave a smile worthy of Gabriel Oak and it didn’t come as any surprise to her when they kissed again and, at that very moment, she believed she wouldn’t care if the whole of Castle Clare came barging into her front room to watch them. She and Jago were kissing and it was wonderful. Truly wonderful.