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

by Victoria Connelly

  He turned around and crossed the road back to her and she ran into his arms right there on the pavement.

  ‘You’ll get cold,’ he said to her.

  ‘Not when I’ve got you to hold.’

  ‘You’ll always have me to hold,’ he told her.

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The school music room was a pretty uninspiring place, Jago thought as he sat down and waited for his first pupil. The walls were a sickly sort of yellow and covered in the remains of Sellotape corners and blobs of old Blu-tack, and there above the desk was a peeling poster of Beethoven looking particularly wild and scary. Still, at least they encouraged the children to play an instrument, he thought. So often, the arts were the first to suffer with budget cuts.

  He looked down at the timetable he’d been given. He had three pupils this morning and, as he waited for the first to arrive, his mind drifted back to the night before.

  How could he feel threatened by a man who’d been thought dead up until a few hours ago, he wondered? A man who, it seemed, had thought nothing of walking out on Polly and Archie. A man whom Polly had moved on from. Yet, that was precisely how Jago was feeling for what chance did he have if Sean was alive and he came back to claim what was rightfully his?

  Jago got up and walked across to the window. It was a bright spring morning and the sky was a heartening blue with white wispy clouds, but it did nothing to lift his mood because he was terrified, absolutely terrified, that he was going to lose Polly and Archie.

  He got his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text to Polly.

  Hey, Poll. You okay? J x

  It took less than a minute for a reply to come.

  Okay. Miss you. P x

  So at least Sean hadn’t made an appearance after he’d left last night, he thought. Or this morning. But Jago sincerely believed that it was only a matter of time.

  ‘Mr Solomon?’ a voice called from the door.

  ‘Lucy?’ he said, turning around to see a gawky girl of about twelve standing in the doorway. She nodded.

  ‘Come in.’

  ‘Sorry I’m late, Mr Solomon.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said with a smile. He still wasn’t used to being called Mr Solomon. It made him sound about a hundred years old, he thought. He’d once made the mistake of telling the pupils in a class to call him Jago and the supporting teacher’s eyes had been out on stalks.

  ‘You do that and they’ll run rings around you,’ she’d warned at the end of the session.

  ‘Where’s your guitar?’ he asked Lucy now.

  ‘At my mum’s,’ she said. ‘I had to stay with my dad last night.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Jago said, wondering if children of divorced parents wheeled out that excuse on a regular basis. ‘Well, it’s lucky that I’ve got one you can use for the lesson, isn’t it?’

  She nodded and he handed her a guitar, trying to shut thoughts of Polly out of his mind as he concentrated on placing Lucy’s bitten nails in the right place.

  Bryony was watching her sister very closely as she moved like a sleepwalker around her shop. She didn’t look right. She wasn’t her usual business-like self, that was for sure. Finally, Bryony could take it no more.

  ‘Where’s your head at? she cried.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Polly asked, looking stunned by the question.

  ‘I mean, you’ve just shelved The Secret Garden in amongst that new supernatural series.’

  ‘Oh,’ Polly said. ‘Did I?’

  Bryony put her hands on her hips. Today, she was wearing an indigo-coloured skirt with a silver-white blouse and black denim jacket. And that was something else she’d noticed about Polly today – her hair was a mess. A mess for Polly, at least. It was immaculate by Bryony’s own standards. Had she had a fight with Jago?

  ‘Polly – sit yourself down.’

  ‘I’m not sitting on – or in – one of those bean bags.’ Polly frowned. ‘Which is it? Sitting on a bean bag or in a bean bag?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Bryony said. ‘I meant the stool anyway.’ She gestured to the one adult seat in the shop.

  ‘You’ve really got to get some proper chairs,’ Polly said as she hopped up onto the stool just as the phone rang. Bryony answered it.

  ‘Hello Mrs Steel. Yes, I remember. No, I’m afraid it’s not in yet,’ Bryony said. ‘Would you like me to call you when it is? Okay, I’ll do that. No. No. I’m not engaged to Colin. Where did you hear that? Well, it’s not true. Okay. I’ll give you a call when the book’s in.’

  Bryony hung up. ‘Can you believe that? There’s a rumour going around that I’m engaged to Colin. Engaged! I only went out for a meal with him and the whole of Castle Clare’s got us married off already.’

  Polly laughed. ‘You should be used to that sort of gossip by now.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad it’s cheered you up at least. Now, what’s the matter? And don’t tell me nothing because I’ll not give up until you’ve spilt everything!’

  Polly took a deep breath and began. Bryony listened and, for once in her life, she didn’t interrupt.

  ‘You think he’s back?’ Bryony asked when Polly finally finished.

  ‘I really do,’ Polly said.

  ‘Oh, my God, Poll. What will you do?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I’ve been up half the night asking that same question.’

  ‘And what about Jago? What’s he said about all this?’

  ‘He hasn’t said much, really. He didn’t believe what Sophie said, but how does that explain the model boat?’

  ‘That’s weird,’ Bryony said.

  ‘It is, isn’t it?’

  ‘You should call the police.’

  ‘And say what? That I think my missing husband’s back, but I haven’t seen him yet so I guess that still makes him missing.’

  Bryony blew out her cheeks. ‘You could tell them that this Sophie’s seen him.’

  ‘I guess,’ Polly said, ‘but I want proof myself before I do anything.’

  Bryony nodded. ‘No wonder you’re a mess at the moment.’

  Polly frowned. ‘What do you mean? I’m not a mess!’

  Bryony leaned forward and tucked a loose strand of her sister’s hair back behind her ear.

  ‘You’re right. I am a mess,’ Polly admitted. ‘It was all I could do this morning to get Archie ready for school.’

  ‘Have you told him?’

  ‘What’s there to tell? That a man he might not even remember might turn up out of the blue?’

  ‘He didn’t get a look at him at the school that day?’

  Polly shook her head. ‘I’ve asked him over and over what he remembers, but he didn’t see anything.’

  Bryony’s head was spinning at her sister’s news so she could only imagine how Polly was feeling.

  ‘If Sean does turn up,’ Bryony began hesitantly, ‘if he wants to pick up where he left off, what will you do?’

  Polly’s dark eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I really don’t know!’

  ‘Oh, Polly!’ Bryony hugged her close and let her cry. ‘I wish there was something I could do.’

  ‘I feel so helpless,’ Polly whispered. ‘Why’s he doing this to us? Why doesn’t he just show up instead of inflicting this slow torture?’

  Bryony stood hugging Polly as she sat on the stool for a few minutes more and then Polly pulled away, moping her eyes with a tissue from her pocket.

  ‘Will you let me know?’ Bryony said. ‘I mean, if he shows up.’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘We’ll get through this,’ Bryony said.

  ‘That’s what Jago keeps saying,’ Polly said. ‘But I can’t stand all this waiting for something to happen. I feel as if my life is on hold.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I just wish it would all begin so I could make a start on getting through it.’

  Jago was waiting for them when they arrived home from the school
run that afternoon.

  ‘Jago!’ Archie shouted as he leapt out of the car outside their house.

  ‘Guess what I’ve got?’ Jago said, holding up something that looked suspiciously guitar-shaped.

  ‘Is it my guitar?’ Archie asked, looking from Jago to his mum and back again.

  ‘It certainly is,’ Jago said. ‘I picked it up this morning, given it the once-over and it’s all yours!’

  ‘Let’s get inside before he opens the case right here on the road,’ Polly said.

  They bundled into the house in an excited heap, running through to the living room as if it was Christmas morning.

  ‘Can I open it?’ Archie asked as Dickens ran into the room to see what all the fuss was about. Jago handed Archie the guitar case.

  ‘Go on,’ he said.

  ‘Wow!’ Archie said a moment later. ‘Is it really mine?’

  ‘It sure is,’ Jago said.

  He looked at it in awe for a moment before pulling it from its case and holding it next to his body in a funny kind of embrace as if he never meant to let it go.

  ‘I never saw you cuddling your piano,’ Polly said.

  ‘That was never mine,’ he said.

  ‘Yes it was,’ Polly said.

  Archie shook his head. ‘It was Dad’s and Granddad’s.’

  ‘Well, this is yours, my darling,’ Polly said, kissing the top of his head.

  ‘Thanks, Mum! Thanks, Jago!’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ they both said together.

  Polly watched her son as he strummed his first notes and then she left the room, walking into the kitchen followed by Dickens. Jago joined her.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘You okay?’

  She nodded. ‘I thought I’d leave you to enjoy the moment.’

  ‘I don’t think Archie would notice if I was doing handstands,’ he said.

  Polly laughed. ‘Thanks so much for finding it for him.’

  ‘One of life’s greatest pleasures is to match the right instrument to the right person,’ he told her.

  ‘What a lovely notion,’ Polly said.

  Jago moved an inch closer to her. ‘But not as lovely as matching the right person to,’ he paused, ‘the right person.’

  Polly smiled. ‘That’s a pretty good notion too.’

  ‘It is, isn’t it?’

  Polly gazed into his slate-grey eyes and ran her fingers over his wide mouth. He was wearing a cute black waistcoat today with the buttons all undone and it made her want to kiss his neck.

  ‘What is it?’ he said when she withdrew her fingers from his mouth. ‘Where’d you go? That was just getting interesting.’

  ‘I think I might know where Sean is,’ Polly said, thoughts of waistcoats and sexy necks flying from her mind.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Woolverstone Marina,’ she said.

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘It was a favourite place of his and, if he’s living on a boat, it might well be there.’

  ‘Okay,’ Jago said cautiously, ‘and what do you want to do?’

  ‘I think I should go there.’

  ‘What – just turn up and check out every single boat?’

  ‘We check his old mooring first,’ Polly said. ‘I don’t know if he’s still using it, but it’s got to be worth a try, hasn’t it?’

  Jago didn’t look convinced. ‘I don’t know if that’s such a great idea.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Surely if he wanted to see you – I mean if he’s even in Suffolk–’

  ‘He’s in Suffolk. I know he is and I can’t just hang around and do nothing. It’s driving me crazy, Jago!’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ he said. ‘We’ll check out this marina place.’

  ‘You’re coming with me?’

  ‘Of course I’m going with you. I’ve got a lesson, but that’s easily rearranged so we’ll go as soon as you drop Archie off at school tomorrow, all right?’

  Polly nodded, feeling a little easier now that she had a plan in place.

  The morning was cool and bright when they arrived at Woolverstone Marina. They parked the Land Rover and got out, walking towards the water.

  ‘Blimey, this place is huge,’ Jago said. ‘I’ve never seen so many boats in my life.’

  ‘I think Sean said there are over two hundred berths here,’ Polly told him.

  ‘That’s a lot of boats,’ Jago said. ‘I hope you know where it is. It’s like a city of masts down there.’

  It was a daunting yet inspiring sight with the wide river and the great expanse of the road bridge which crossed high above it. She’d used to love coming to the marina with Sean in those heady, early days of their relationship. Before he’d first hit her. Bright spring mornings, blue-skied days of summer and crisp autumn afternoons – all had had their own particular magic when out on the water. Now, however, it was a cold, grey March morning. A bitter wind was coming off the river and there were some heavy clouds scudding along the horizon. It wasn’t a day to be out on the water, she thought, but would Sean be on his boat?

  ‘The mooring place for the Oystercatcher was down there,’ Polly said, nodding across at a row of boats. Suddenly, her nerves began to kick in. She’d managed to keep them in check all morning as she’d got on with the usual routine of getting Archie ready for school, and Jago had kept her mind off things with a funny story about one of his pupils. But there was nothing to distract her now.

  Jago took her hand and squeezed it gently. ‘You sure you want to do this?’

  ‘I’m not sure want is the right word,’ she said. ‘But I need to.’

  Jago nodded. ‘Lead the way.’

  She took a deep breath and, together, they walked down amongst the boats. Even though it was the middle of the week, there were a few people around, eager to make the most of the spring day by doing routine maintenance work before the sailing season ahead.

  ‘I think it’s this row,’ she said a moment later as they walked along a pontoon lined with fabulous white boats, their sails folded away and their masts reaching skywards.

  On they walked until Polly stopped.

  ‘Is it here?’ Jago asked. ‘These all look the same to me.’

  Polly looked around. She had to admit that the boats all looked the same to her too, but she was pretty sure that she was in the right place.

  ‘I thought it was here,’ she said. ‘But this boat’s a much bigger one than the Oystercatcher.’

  ‘It’s also called Mirage,’ Jago pointed out.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘And that one’s Happy Days,’ Jago said, looking at the boat to their left, ‘and this one’s Sea Quest.’

  ‘It’s not here,’ Polly said, feeling both deflated and relieved at the same time.

  Jago put his arm around her. ‘You tried,’ he said.

  Polly looked along the line of white boats and back towards the car park. ‘Wait a minute,’ she said.

  ‘What is it?’ Jago asked.

  ‘It’s over there,’ she said. ‘Not here. It’s the next pontoon along. Come on!’ She took off at a great pace, her energy renewed.

  ‘Slow down!’ Jago called after her. ‘I don’t want you ending up in the water.’

  Polly relaxed her pace a little not because Jago had asked her to but because she’d reached the right pontoon at last.

  ‘Here!’ she said. ‘This is it.’

  They walked down the pontoon together, passing gleaming white boats bobbing gently on the water. Finally, Polly stopped and examined one boat in particular.

  ‘Is that it?’ Jago asked.

  ‘I think so,’ Polly said.

  ‘Listen,’ he said, ‘have you really thought about this?’

  ‘I’ve thought of nothing else,’ Polly said.

  ‘I mean, what are you going to say? And how are you going to introduce me?’ Jago’s tone was deadly serious and his face was pale and anxious.

  ‘I – I don’t know,’ Polly said, and it was true. Although
she’d thought of very little else since Sophie Randall had walked into her life, Polly didn’t actually know what she’d say to Sean if and when she came face to face with him. She had been so focussed on finding out whether it was true that he was alive that she hadn’t thought much beyond that. But Jago was right. How was she going to explain his presence there?

  Hi Sean. Good to see you after all these years. Meet my new boyfriend, Jago!

  She shook her head. That wouldn’t do at all, would it?’

  ‘Is that even the right boat?’ Jago asked and Polly looked at it again.

  ‘It looks like it.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, to my eye, that one looks just like this one, and all of those over there too.’

  ‘Look for the name,’ Polly said, peering around the boat without actually stepping onto it.

  ‘Here,’ Jago said. He’d walked along the length of the pontoon and found the name on the back. Polly joined him and read it.

  Swan.

  ‘It’s the name Sophie told me,’ Polly said.

  ‘Is it the Oystercatcher?’

  ‘It looks like it,’ Polly said, ‘but I’m no expert.’ She made to step aboard.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Jago cried in alarm.

  ‘I didn’t come all this way just to look at her,’ she said.

  Jago looked up and down the pontoon as if expecting an alarm to go off or the police to show up. One thing seemed sure, he wasn’t going to follow her on board, Polly thought.

  She stepped down into the cockpit and looked at the door into the cabin. If anybody was aboard, the door would be open, but it was resolutely closed. Locked too, she discovered a moment later. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from knocking on it.

  ‘I think we should get going,’ Jago said from the pontoon.

  ‘Give me a minute,’ Polly said, not quite sure what she was waiting for, but then she turned around and, with Jago’s hand stretched out to take hers, stepped out of the boat. Once back on the pontoon, she turned back towards the boat, trying to see into one of the portholes, but they were so tiny and it was dark inside the cabin.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ Jago asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Polly said, suddenly feeling quite lost.

  ‘Let’s walk back to the car, shall we?’ Jago said, putting his arm around her as if taking control. ‘Hey, I’ve just had a great idea.’