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

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Rules for a Successful Book Club (The Book Lovers 2) Page 21

by Victoria Connelly

‘Right then,’ Sam said, ‘have we all got a seat?’

  Polly sat next to Jago and Callie sat next to Sam.

  ‘I think we’ve all enough to eat for now with more than our share of Honey’s delicious biscuits, and Flo’s buns and Antonia’s flapjacks so let’s make a start,’ Sam said. ‘What did we all think of the novel? Anyone want to kick off?’

  ‘Thomas Hardy, wasn’t it?’ Winston began.

  ‘Erm, yes, Winston,’ Sam said. ‘You did read it, didn’t you? Far From the Madding Crowd?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Winston said, ‘just making sure.’

  Flo Lohman shifted uneasily in her chair. ‘I found it difficult,’ she said.

  ‘How?’ Sam asked. ‘The language?’

  ‘The language, the subject, the characters. I mean, there wasn’t really anyone likeable, was there?’

  ‘That’s an interesting point,’ Sam said. ‘What do we all think about that? Do we need to like characters in order to enjoy a book?’

  ‘Well, I do,’ Flo said.

  ‘I think characters should be engaging,’ Callie said, ‘but not necessarily likeable. They should be sympathetic, though. A reader must be able to understand why they do things.’

  ‘So who did we engage with?’ Sam asked. ‘Anyone?’

  ‘Not that awful heroine,’ Antonia said. ‘Vain, stupid–’

  ‘Not stupid,’ Lily Ann interrupted. ‘She was a good businesswoman, wasn’t she?’

  ‘But to turn down Gabriel Oak,’ Antonia went on.

  ‘Yes, but if she’d accepted him in those early chapters, there wouldn’t have been a book, would there?’ Callie said.

  ‘Trust a writer to point that out,’ Antonia said. ‘So it’s a plot device of Hardy’s to make her stupid?’

  ‘I think we established that she wasn’t stupid,’ Lily Ann said.

  ‘Lilian, I have my opinion–’

  ‘Lily Ann,’ Lily Ann corrected. ‘Not Lilian.’

  Polly leaned in towards Jago. ‘Never ever call her that,’ she whispered. ‘She hates it!’

  ‘I’ll do my best to remember,’ he whispered back.

  ‘The early rejection of Gabriel Oak makes it all the sweeter when they come together at the end, don’t you think?’ Polly asked.

  ‘Oh, I do like a happy ending!’ Flo said. ‘It’s just a shame that there were so many deaths along the way.’

  ‘It is a Thomas Hardy novel,’ Sam said.

  ‘So depressing,’ Flo said.

  ‘But there’s lots of humour in there too. Did you like the scene with the farm hands? When Bathsheba meets them all?’

  ‘Chapter ten,’ Callie said. ‘”Mistress and Men” it’s called.’

  ‘I loved that chapter!’ Honey enthused. ‘Especially the poor stuttering fellow.’

  ‘Oh, I missed that bit,’ Flo said. ‘There’s a horrible stain on my page eighty-five – look!’

  The group looked at the disgusting reddish-brown stain on Flo’s Pan edition which featured the young Julie Christie on the cover.

  ‘Why do people have to bleed over books?’ Antonia asked. ‘It’s a filthy habit.’

  ‘They probably don’t do it deliberately,’ Polly pointed out.

  Jago laughed. ‘Yeah, like, “I’ve got a nice bit of Graham Greene to pour this paper cut over!”’

  ‘Don’t be foul,’ Antonia said.

  ‘Jago, what did you think of the book?’ Sam asked, obviously in an attempt to keep things on topic, Polly thought.

  ‘I liked it. I really did,’ he said. ‘I like the way Hardy’s characters are all so closely linked with the countryside. I read somewhere that Hardy referred to his major books as “novels of character and environment”?’

  ‘Oh, very highbrow,’ Honey said. ‘We have a brain amongst us!’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound–’

  ‘No, it’s wonderful,’ Honey added quickly. ‘It’s just you’ll put us all to shame.’

  ‘Well, you perhaps, Hortense,’ Antonia said. ‘I was aware of that, Jago.’

  The conversation continued with the group taking it in turns to talk about their favourite scenes and the scenes that moved them the most and it was universally agreed that Troy was one of literatures most despicable characters and that he could never be forgiven for his treatment of Fanny Robin and that the scene in the graveyard in the rain was one of the saddest ever written.

  ‘I mean that’s the height of cruelty, isn’t it?’ Lily Ann said, ‘for Troy to just disappear like that and not tell Bathsheba what was going on. How she could even contemplate getting back with a man like that.’

  ‘It’s hard to put yourself in that situation, isn’t it?’ Flo said. ‘I mean, I’ve never had a husband leave me, but I couldn’t imagine what Bathsheba went through.’

  ‘It’s the not knowing,’ Honey said. ‘Imagine day after day not knowing where he was or what happened to him.’

  Polly looked across the room at Sam and he seemed to understand her.

  ‘What do we think about Boldwood’s behaviour at this time?’ he said, but there didn’t seem to be any hope of him changing the direction of the discussion.

  ‘Just imagine that for a minute,’ Honey said, ‘the agony she must have gone through worrying about what might have happened to her husband.’

  ‘It must have been unbearable,’ Flo said, shaking her head sadly.

  Suddenly, Polly was on her feet, her wooden chair scraping back noisily.

  ‘Polly?’ Sam said.

  ‘I – I – I’ve got to go,’ she stammered, grabbing her coat from the back of her chair and charging out of the room.

  Polly had found the conversation about missing husbands unbearable even though she’d known that they were all talking about a fictional character and that they weren’t talking about her situation at all.

  She stood for a moment in front of the till, hearing the voices from the back room as she tried to gather her thoughts.

  ‘I should have thought,’ Sam was berating himself. ‘We should never have chosen this book!’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Callie was telling him.

  ‘I’ll go after her,’ Jago said and Polly quickly wiped her eyes as he caught up with her.

  ‘Hey,’ he said gently. ‘You okay?’

  She nodded. Then she shook her head. ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘It was the book, wasn’t it? All that talk about husbands disappearing.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have let it get to me,’ she said.

  ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘I should go back and apologise.’

  ‘There’s no need. They’ll understand,’ he told her. ‘Would you like me to drive you home?’

  ‘I can manage,’ she said. ‘But you can come with me if you want to.’

  He nodded. ‘Of course I want to.’

  They crossed the room to the door just as Sam approached.

  ‘Polly?’ he called softly. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ she assured him. ‘Just being silly.’

  ‘No you’re not.’ He was by her side in an instant and caught her up in a big hug. ‘You’re never silly.’

  ‘I had no idea I was going to react like that. I mean, I read the book, I know the plot and everything. But hearing that situation being talked about like that.’

  ‘We should have been more mindful,’ Sam said.

  Polly smiled up at him. ‘Get back to your book club, Sam,’ she told him.

  ‘You’ll be okay?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll make sure she is,’ Jago told him.

  He nodded. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?’

  Polly and Jago left the shop, walking out into the silent street. She took some deep breaths of cold night air and tried to clear her head.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said at last.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Dragging you into all this.’

  ‘You didn’t drag me. I plunged in.’

  ‘Plunged?’ she laughed.
<
br />   ‘Very willingly!’

  ‘I’m a mess. You’d be better off with somebody else. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘You’re not thinking of pushing me on poor Bryony again, are you? Because I don’t think she’d take me back.’

  She stopped walking and stared up at the great flint tower of Castle Clare’s church which was floodlit at night.

  ‘You can change your mind at any time,’ she said without looking at him.

  ‘I know,’ he said.

  ‘You can walk away whenever you want to. I won’t mind.’

  He moved to stand in front of her. ‘You won’t mind?’ he asked. ‘Not even a little bit?’ He cocked his head to one side. ‘I’m offended. You wouldn’t miss me at all?’

  ‘Of course I would,’ she said. ‘I’d miss you like crazy.’

  They hugged one another.

  ‘Polly, I don’t know why we’re even talking about this because I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here with you and we’re going to work through this together.’

  ‘It just seems so unfair that you’re being put through–’

  ‘Shush!’ he said, stroking her hair in that way he had which instantly calmed her. ‘I love you, Polly, and I want to be with you. No matter what happens, okay?’

  She nodded and they kissed.

  ‘Let’s go home, shall we?’ she said. ‘Archie’s not being dropped off for another hour and a half yet.’

  ‘Really?’ Jago said.

  ‘That gives us plenty of time for something rather special.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Jago grinned.

  ‘Yeah,’ Polly said. ‘We can start planning his birthday party!’

  Jago laughed. ‘You are full of surprises!’

  ‘Good ones, I hope?’

  ‘Oh, yes, always good ones.’

  It was as they reached the Land Rover that Polly’s mobile beeped.

  ‘It’s a text from Sam,’ she said and then she started laughing.

  ‘What is it?’ Jago asked, but Polly couldn’t stop laughing. ‘Polly – tell me!’

  ‘He says...’ she laughed again and, for a few moments, seemed incapable of speech.

  ‘Give me the phone and let me see what’s so funny,’ Jago said, but Polly shook her head, doing her best to recover herself. ‘What’s he say, Polly?’

  She wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. ‘He says we left the shop in the nick of time. Winston’s dog’s just let one rip!’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ‘So, when are we going to meet this Polly girl?’ Briggs asked, flicking his hair back from his face and fixing his gaze upon Jago.

  ‘She’s not a girl,’ Jago said.

  ‘No, that’s right,’ Briggs said. ‘She’s your older woman, isn’t she? What’s it like being a toy boy?’

  ‘Please don’t use that term,’ Jago said.

  ‘I quite fancy having a cougar myself.’

  ‘Or that one!’ Jago said, shaking his head.

  ‘We all want to see her,’ Briggs said.

  ‘Well, that’s not your call,’ Jago told him firmly, walking through to Briggs’s kitchen and attempting to find a clean mug to drink out of.

  To be perfectly honest, Jago didn’t like the idea of sharing Polly with the outside world. Not that he didn’t want to show her off a bit, but he had to admit that he was more than content with the time they spent together at 3 Church Green. They’d created such a wonderful little world together there and he didn’t see the need to leave it just so that they could sit in some pub together. It was a safe, happy, protected world and they were all happy enough in it, weren’t they? But maybe he was being selfish. Maybe Polly would like to go out sometime. He should really have thought about that and maybe taken her out to dinner or a trip to the cinema. He’d give it some thought later when he wasn’t being hounded by Briggs.

  Jago had never been happier in his whole life than in the last few weeks he’d spent with Polly and Archie. Who would have thought that he’d find true happiness with a mother and son? Perhaps it was the feeling that he’d walked into his own ready-made family – an experience that had been denied him as an only child from a very broken home.

  ‘Hey, if you find another clean mug, make us a cup too,’ Briggs said.

  ‘You are such a slob,’ Jago said. ‘You’ve really got to learn to clean up after yourself.’

  Briggs shrugged. ‘I cleaned up last week.’

  Jago shook his head in despair. ‘You know I’ll never agree to share a house with you unless you get yourself sorted.’

  ‘So you’re giving it some thought, then?’

  ‘Sure. I can’t live at home with my mum forever, can I?’ Jago said. ‘Hey – when are Mike and Davy due because I can’t hang around forever.’

  ‘Got to get back to the old ball and chain, eh?’ Briggs said as he entered the kitchen.

  ‘No, I’m giving a lesson in a local school.’

  ‘Oh, cool,’ he said, making a token gesture of putting a few clean plates back in their cupboards. ‘Then it’s back to the old ball and chain?’

  ‘Briggs, my friend,’ Jago said, ‘I can’t wait until you fall in love – and I mean really fall in love. Not just flirting with the latest groupie.’

  ‘You mean you’re giving groupies up?’

  Jago glared at him. ‘I was never into groupies to begin with!’

  ‘Maybe not, but they were into you!’

  ‘And that’s just the kind of talk I don’t want around Polly. If I’m ever stupid enough to introduce you to her,’ Jago said.

  ‘Hey, man – I wouldn’t say anything. Band of brothers and all that.’

  Jago shook his head. He didn’t hold out much hope of Briggs ever growing up, but Jago was awfully glad that he had.

  After attempting to teach her students the difference between countable and uncountable nouns, Polly had driven in to Castle Clare. Things had been slow in Sam’s bookshop, but it had been good to spend time with her brother. He’d filled her in on what had happened at the book club after she’d left with Jago. Everyone had been desperately worried about her and had passed on their love via Sam.

  ‘I’m glad you’ve got Jago to look out for you,’ Sam had said. ‘He seems like a really good guy.’

  ‘He is,’ Polly had said. ‘I feel so lucky to have him in my life. But please don’t think I need somebody to look out for me. I can cope perfectly well on my own. I just had a little wobble the other night, that’s all.’

  Sam had nodded. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘You’re the strongest person I know.’

  Polly had given her brother a hug just as a customer had walked in. Then, having embarrassed him quite enough, she’d dusted around the shelves, done some minor repairs to some of the second-hand books and put in some orders for customers before driving home.

  Parking outside her house, Polly noted a small red car outside her neighbours’ which she didn’t recognise. There was a woman sitting in the driver’s seat. She was pretty with straight blonde hair down to her shoulders and she looked no more than thirty.

  As Polly got out of her car, she was aware that the woman was watching her. Perhaps she was lost, Polly thought, but she didn’t maintain eye contact when Polly made to smile at her and so Polly opened her door and went inside.

  She hadn’t been in the house for more than a couple of minutes when somebody knocked on the door. Promising Dickens she’d be right back for his long-awaited walk, Polly went to open the door and came face to face with the young woman from the car. So she was lost, Polly thought. But she didn’t ask Polly for directions.

  ‘Who are you?’ the blonde woman asked.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Polly said.

  ‘I need to know who you are.’

  Polly frowned. ‘But you knocked on my door. Who are you?’

  ‘I found your address,’ the woman said. ‘I’m looking for someone.’

  ‘Who are you looking for?’

  ‘Sean,’ she said. ‘I’m lookin
g for Sean Prior.’

  Polly almost buckled at the mention of her husband’s name.

  ‘Sean’s not here,’ she managed to say, her throat suddenly very dry.

  It was then that Dickens ran into the hallway barking. Polly grabbed hold of his collar and turned him around.

  ‘Quiet, boy,’ she said, sending him back to the kitchen, and then something clicked in her mind.

  ‘You’ve been watching the house haven’t you?’ she said to the woman.

  The woman nodded. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I was hoping to see him. I haven’t seen him in weeks. He just disappeared.’

  ‘Weeks? You haven’t seen him in weeks?’ Polly said, thinking of the long years in which she hadn’t seen her husband.

  The woman nodded.

  ‘I think you’d better come in.’

  The young woman walked into the hallway. She looked awkward and nervous and Polly couldn’t help wanting to put her at ease even though her own mind was racing.

  ‘I’m Sophie,’ the woman said. ‘Sophie Randall.’

  ‘I’m Polly. Polly Prior. Come and sit down,’ Polly said, leading her through to the living room. She felt slightly removed from herself, almost as if she was floating somewhere above the scene before her and that it wasn’t quite happening. ‘Can I get you a drink? A cup of tea?’ she heard herself asking.

  Sophie shook her head. ‘Just a water, thank you.’

  Polly went through to the kitchen for two glasses of water. Dickens looked up expectantly from his basket, but Polly shook her head and he settled down again.

  Returning to the living room, she noticed that Sophie hadn’t sat down. She was standing by the shelves, looking at the photographs.

  ‘You’re married to him, aren’t you?’ Sophie asked, turning her bright eyes on Polly.

  ‘Yes,’ Polly said. ‘We have a son. Archie.’

  Sophie nodded. ‘He didn’t tell me.’

  Polly swallowed hard. ‘I think you’d better sit down and tell me everything you know.’ She handed Sophie a glass of water and the two of them sat at either end of the sofa.

  ‘How long were you married for?’ Sophie asked.

  ‘We’re still are married,’ Polly said. ‘Listen – you are telling me Sean’s alive, aren’t you? That is what you’re saying?’

  Sophie frowned. ‘Of course he’s alive!’

 

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