After he’d left, Polly walked upstairs to check on Archie and was surprised to see him sitting up in bed with his lamp still on.
‘Archie – you should be asleep!’ she told him.
‘What did Jago want?’
‘He wanted to talk to me.’
‘I know. But what about?’
Polly sat on the edge of the bed, wondering how best to answer his question. ‘Adult stuff,’ she said.
‘He likes you, Mum.’
Polly leaned forward to plump Archie’s pillows. ‘He might do. Would that be all right with you if he did, and if I liked him back?’
Archie snuggled down under his duvet cover. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It would be good. I like Jago.’
‘I know you do, and he likes you too. But–’
‘What, Mum?’
‘But what about your dad?’ she dared to ask, watching her son’s face, anxious to hear his response.
‘Dad’s gone, isn’t he?’
Polly felt tears pricking her eyes. ‘I think so, yes.’
‘Then it’s okay.’
She bent to kiss her son’s rosy cheek. ‘I love you, Archie.’
‘Love you too,’ he said and she switched his bedside lamp off and left the room.
Polly spent the rest of Sunday evening tidying around the house. She let Dickens out in the garden, prepared Archie’s school bag for the next morning, read some more of Far From the Madding Crowd and then got ready for bed.
It was only after she’d turned her light off and got into bed that she allowed herself to cry. They were great, warm silent tears of both joy and relief because, for the first time since Sean had disappeared, Polly could see a little glimmer of happiness in her future.
CHAPTER SİXTEEN
Bryony was plumping a beanbag when Jago entered the shop on Monday morning.
‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Hey,’ he said back.
‘This is a nice surprise,’ she told him, standing up and pushing her hair back. She was wearing a broad hair band patterned with fuchsia and turquoise swirls and a deep pink dress in crushed velvet. ‘I called you on Sunday evening. Were you out?’
Jago swallowed hard. He’d seen her name flash up on his phone shortly after he’d got back from Polly’s and hadn’t been able to talk to Bryony, not after he’d just been kissing her sister.
‘No, sorry. I was working,’ he lied. Well, he had had a bit of a strum that evening.
‘I wanted to make sure you were okay after the Sunday lunch onslaught.’
He smiled. ‘It was fun.’
‘I was worried we all might have scared you off.’
‘I had a great time.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I did too. In fact, I was wondering if you’d like to make it a regular–’
‘Bryony,’ he interrupted, ‘can we talk?’
She stared at him, her beautiful eyes wide in her pale face. ‘It always sounds ominous when somebody says that.’
He took a deep breath. ‘Is there anywhere to sit down?’
‘Well, if we both want to sit down at the same time, there’s only the bean bags, I’m afraid.’
He nodded and chose the red one, his long legs folding as he collapsed almost to the floor. Bryony followed suit only a little more elegantly. It was obvious that she’d done this many times before and looked far more comfortable than he felt.
‘Bryony,’ he began, clearing his throat.
‘Jago,’ she said with a tiny laugh that sounded nervous.
There was a pause, but it was one of those awkward ones rather than one between friends who might be comfortable just sitting in silence on a pair of bean bags together.
‘I – erm – don’t really know how to say this.’
‘Quickly?’ Bryony suggested. ‘Because you’re making me nervous.’
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I should have told you on Saturday. It was selfish of me not to.’
‘Wait,’ Bryony said, surprising him when she held her hand up. ‘I think I know what you’re going to say.’
‘You do?’
She nodded and her fingers circled inside a pair of silver bangles she was wearing, making them clang together. ‘It’s about Polly, isn’t it?’
His eyes widened in genuine surprise. ‘Yes.’
‘You like her, don’t you?’
Jago raked a hand through his hair and sighed. ‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Just to the whole world,’ Bryony said. ‘I was kind of trying to ignore it. I kept telling myself all day yesterday that you were just friends or that maybe it was a passing crush on your part or something.’
‘I don’t think it is,’ Jago admitted.
‘No, I had the feeling it wouldn’t be.’
‘I’m really sorry. I never meant to hurt you.’
Bryony swallowed hard. ‘You very nearly did,’ she said, ‘but I think I’ll survive. Now, had you taken me out on a second date and sung me another song, you’d be tied to me for life.’
He looked down at the floor.
‘I’m teasing you,’ she said. ‘Let’s not make things awkward between us, eh? That would be really uncomfortable. I mean, if you’re going to be spending future Sundays with us – as Polly’s guest, not mine – I really don’t want to feel like this around the table.’
‘Me neither,’ he said and he stood up. ‘You’re really great, Bryony, and you’ll find that special someone soon.’
‘You reckon?’ she said as she got up from the bean bag. ‘He’s taking his time getting here.’
‘He’s on his way.’
Bryony gave a wry smile. ‘I hope so.’
Eleanor was returning from a short walk with Hardy and Brontë, Grandpa Joe and Grandma Nell. They’d taken a circular footpath around one of the big fields, breathing in the frosty morning air and puffing it back out like a trio of dragons. The walk was about as much as Nell could manage these days.
‘You mustn’t fuss over me,’ she’d told her daughter-in-law as she’d helped her over a small stile. ‘I can still walk.’
‘I know you can. You’re fitter than a lot of people a quarter of your age,’ Eleanor told her. Still, she was keeping a closer eye on Nell these days. Nell’s forgetfulness was worrying. The doctor had told Eleanor to keep in touch and the family always made sure there was somebody with Nell.
As they walked in via the back door, shedding their boots, coats and scarves and giving the dogs a rub down, the telephone rang.
‘I’ll finish Hardy,’ Grandpa Joe said, taking the towel from Eleanor as she went to answer the phone.
‘Hardy won’t let me have his back paws,’ Eleanor called back.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll get them,’ Grandpa Joe said.
Eleanor picked up the phone. ‘Hello.’
‘Mum?’
‘Bryony? Are you okay?’
There was a big sigh on the other end of the line. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Jago’s just been in the shop.’
‘And?’
‘We’ve broken up.’
‘Already? But you’ve only been seeing him since Friday, haven’t you?’
‘I think this must be a new world record,’ Bryony said with a sad little laugh.
‘Has this got something to do with Polly?’ Eleanor asked.
‘You knew too?’
‘I kind of guessed.’
‘I kept seeing them exchange these little looks,’ Bryony said.
‘I kept catching them having tête-à-têtes,’ Eleanor told her daughter. ‘I thought there was something going on, but Polly kept denying it.’
‘She told me she wasn’t available,’ Bryony said. ‘She said she wasn’t interested in seeing anybody.’
‘I think she’s been trying to convince herself by saying those things.’
‘I think you’re right.’
There was a pause.
‘Are you okay, my love?’ Eleanor asked.
‘Yes,�
�� Bryony said. ‘I’m okay.’
‘Polly will need our support in this.’
‘I know,’ Bryony said, ‘and she’ll have mine once I’ve cleared my head.’
‘You are so special, Bryony, and you will find the right man for you.’
‘Jago said the same thing.’
‘And he’s right.’
‘Thanks, Mum! Okay, gotta go. There’s a customer cracking spines!’
‘Go stop them!’ Eleanor cried, shaking her head at the outrageous behaviour.
Grandpa Joe walked into the hall as she hung up from her daughter. ‘I got his feet,’ he said.
‘Pardon?’
‘Hardy. I dried them all. Six of them, right? At least, he seems to have six paws whenever there’s mud around.’ He chuckled. ‘You okay?’
‘That was Bryony. Jago called into her shop this morning to say he was seeing Polly.’
‘One Nightingale girl not enough for him?’
‘I think he got a bit confused as to which one he liked best,’ Eleanor said.
‘I’d be confused too if I was him,’ Grandpa Joe said. ‘It’s a good job Lara wasn’t here on Sunday to make matters even worse.’
‘Don’t even joke about it,’ Eleanor said and then she shook her head. ‘No, Polly’s the one for Jago.’
‘You sound very sure of that.’
‘I am,’ she said with a smile. ‘I just hope Polly is too.’
Polly wasn’t working her usual Monday morning shift at Sam’s bookshop. She’d called him earlier, knowing that Jago would be seeing Bryony and not wanting to be in such close proximity in case her sister had the urge to flatten her with the hefty children’s encyclopaedia which had just come in.
No, she’d made her apologies to Sam, saying she had to wait in for someone. Well, that was kind of true wasn’t it? She was waiting for Jago and, sure enough, as she peeped out of the living room window for the twentieth time, there he was, pulling up on his bike and taking his helmet off. He saw her and waved and she ran to the front door.
‘Did you tell her?’ she asked as he walked towards her.
He nodded. ‘Yep.’
‘Is she okay?’
‘She said she’ll kill you the next time you’re in town, but she’s fine.’
Polly’s mouth dropped open. ‘Oh, no.’
‘I’m kidding!’ Jago said. Polly clouted him. ‘Ouch! That went right through my bike leathers.’
‘Good,’ she said, storming into the house. He followed her inside and closed the door.
‘Polly, wait!’ he said.
She was in the kitchen now.
‘Hey,’ he said as he joined her by the sink. ‘What’s the matter?’ She felt his hands on her shoulders. ‘Polly? Why are you crying?’ He gently turned her around to face him.
‘This is big,’ she said.
‘I know.’ He closed his arms around her.
‘I feel like I’m spinning.’
‘I’ve got hold of you.’
She gave a light laugh and hugged her arms around his waist. ‘You’ve still got your leathers on.’
‘I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to hang around.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Plus I wasn’t sure you wouldn’t hit me again.’
‘I won’t hit you again. I promise.’
He stroked her hair.
‘I hope Bryony’s okay with all this,’ Polly said. ‘I feel really bad doing this to her.’
‘She’s fine, I promise you.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘You know, I don’t normally get you all to myself, do I?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, Archie’s normally here. Not that I begrudge his company,’ Jago said.
‘You’d better not,’ Polly said. ‘Not if you want to be with me.’
‘I realise that you come as a BOGOF.’
Polly laughed. ‘That’s right. We’re a package deal.’
Jago smiled and took his jacket off, placing it over a kitchen chair. ‘Come here,’ he told her. ‘I want you right where you were a moment ago.’
Polly took a step towards him and put her arms around him once again. How she could get used to this, she thought as she rested her head against his shoulder and sighed.
‘How long have we got?’ he asked her.
‘I have to leave just after three to pick Archie up.’
Jago looked at the kitchen clock. It was just after half past ten. ‘So, I can hold you for another four and a half hours?’
‘Won’t you want a break for lunch?’
‘No, no. I’m good here. I’m just going to stand on this spot with you in my arms for as long as I can.’
Polly giggled.
‘I like it when you laugh,’ he said. ‘You don’t do it enough.’
‘What do you mean? I’ve not stopped laughing since I met you,’ she told him.
They stood there in silence for a moment, the sound of Dickens snoring in his basket.
‘Bryony’s probably told Mum what’s happened by now,’ Polly said.
‘Probably.’
‘Mum knew anyway.’
‘Did she?’
Polly nodded. ‘She was trying to winkle it out of me all day yesterday.’
‘Will you ring her?’ Jago asked.
‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘I want to tell Archie first.’
‘What are you going to say to him?’
‘Well, I kind of sounded him out about it last night.’
‘Did you?’
She nodded, her head going up and down on his chest. ‘He really adores you.’
‘He’s a great kid. I love spending time with him.’
‘Are you going to tell your mum?’ Polly asked.
‘I think she might have guessed as well.’
‘Really?’ Polly looked up at him, her cheeks colouring. ‘Does she approve?’
‘She approves of you, but I’m not sure what she’ll think about me seeing you. She’ll probably say I’m not good enough for you. She’s very protective of you,’ he told her, stroking her hair. ‘I think everyone is.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, genuinely puzzled.
‘I’ve noticed the way people look out for you here. They care about you. It’s nice.’
Polly nodded as she realised what he meant. ‘Everyone’s been so kind since Sean left. It’s one of the wonderful things about living in a small community. Not just the village, but Castle Clare too. People really do care about you. I got so many lovely messages from people and offers of help. I’ll never forget it, but I can take care of myself, you know.’
‘I know that,’ Jago said, ‘and you do an amazing job with Archie too.’
She smiled up at him. ‘It was so hard at first. I felt lost. I’d always had Sean there with me and suddenly it was just me and this little boy. I probably made so many mistakes.’
‘I’m sure you didn’t.’
They were quiet again for a moment, contented to just stand there in each other’s arms. Then, Polly began to giggle.
‘What is it?’ Jago asked.
‘I was just wondering what Archie would think if he came in and found us like this.’
‘Do you think he’d mind?’
‘No,’ Polly said, ‘but he might be momentarily disgusted. He’s going through the “I hate girls stage”.’
‘I don’t think I ever went through that,’ Jago said.
‘Have you always had a thing for older women then?’
‘I don’t have a thing for older women,’ he said with a laugh. ‘But I do have a thing for you.’
‘I’m worried about you coming to Sunday lunch again in case you switch affections to my mum.’
‘Polly! You don’t seriously think that, do you?’
‘Well, you seem to be working your way around the Nightingale women.’
‘But it was your idea that I went out with your sister!’
Polly laughed. ‘I know!’
It was then that Dicke
ns suddenly sat up in his basket, his eyes alert and his ears forward as a low growl vibrated in his throat.
‘What is it, boy?’ Polly asked.
Dickens got out of his basket and ran to the back door and started barking.
Polly looked at Jago. ‘I’d better take a look.’
She followed the dog to the back door and unlocked it, stepping out into the garden and checking the side gate, but everything was as it should be. However, Dickens seemed quite sure something was amiss and Polly watched as he zigzagged around the small garden in that manic way which spaniels have.
Finally, Polly got fed up of waiting for him to come back in and whistled for him.
‘It must have been a cat,’ she said to Jago who was standing in the doorway watching them. ‘It’s freezing!’
‘Come back in and get warm.’
Polly nodded and rubbed her arms with her hands.
‘Hey, I can do a pretty good job of that,’ Jago said, closing the door and then enfolding Polly in his arms again.
‘I could get used to this,’ she told him.
It was then that Jago’s phone beeped in his pocket. He took it out, looked at the message and groaned.
‘It’s Briggs.’
‘From your band?’
‘Yep. Bit of a crisis,’ he said. ‘I should shoot over to his.’
‘Okay.’
‘But I don’t want to leave you,’ he said, hugging her again.
‘I don’t want to be the cause of some great musical disaster,’ she said, ‘so perhaps you’d better go. I’ve got a heap of ironing to do anyway.’
‘And so real life intervenes,’ Jago said.
Polly smiled. ‘Oh, yes.’
‘Can I call you later?’
‘I hope you will.’
They kissed. ‘This is good,’ he said.
‘Very good,’ she told him and they walked to the front door hand in hand.
‘I’ll call you.’
‘Do that.’
He gave her a wink and she winked right back at him which made him laugh, and she watched as he donned his helmet and rode off on his motorbike.
Polly was floating on air for the rest of the day. She didn’t grimace whilst doing the ironing, she didn’t groan whilst taking the rubbish out and, during the cold muddy walk with Dickens, she had a huge smile on her face because she was thinking warm thoughts about Jago.
Driving into Castle Clare to pick up Archie from school, she wondered how she was going to tell her son. Should she just come right out with it? Or should she just take things slowly, letting Archie see things for himself?
Rules for a Successful Book Club (The Book Lovers 2) Page 17