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

by Victoria Connelly

  He stared at her, dumbstruck. ‘How did you know–’

  ‘Do you think I’m stupid?’ she said. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t notice that you’d shifted things around?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t break in. This is still my home and I’ve still got my key,’ he said.

  ‘This is not your home,’ Polly said. ‘You gave up the right to call it that when you walked out and stopped paying the rent.’

  ‘Polly–’

  ‘It was cruel of you,’ she went on. ‘To let me know that you were around, but that you weren’t getting in touch.’

  ‘I had things to do,’ he said. ‘Things to sort out.’

  ‘Things like Sophie, you mean?’

  ‘How do you know about her?’ Sean all but screamed.

  ‘I know about her because she visited me,’ Polly said, watching the look of shock that passed over his face.

  ‘Typical of her to poke her nose in where it isn’t wanted,’ he said in a vicious whisper.

  ‘Where it isn’t wanted?’ Polly asked incredulously. ‘I wanted to hear what she had to say.’

  ‘How the hell did she get this address anyway?’

  ‘She found an old business card of yours.’

  ‘She snooped through my things?’

  ‘Sean – you were hiding the fact that you had a wife and son from her and you’re worried about her snooping through your things?’

  ‘She means nothing to me anyway,’ he said.

  ‘You were just living with her, were you? Using her like you used me.’

  His mouth dropped open. ‘I never used you, Polly!’

  ‘No? Are you sure? Sure you didn’t just get a bit bored of playing husband and father one day and decide to go off on another adventure?’

  He looked uneasy at her words and she felt like she might have hit a nerve.

  ‘She wanted to see your parents, you know,’ Polly confessed, wondering whether she was wise to do such a thing.

  ‘Sophie?’

  ‘Yes, Sophie.’

  ‘Why the hell would she want to see them?’

  ‘Hmmm, let me hazard a guess here. Because she was in love with you?’

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  Polly couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. ‘She wanted them to know that you were alive, Sean.’

  Sean shook his head and left the room, stalking through to the kitchen where Dickens immediately began to growl at him.

  ‘Can’t you put this dog out in the garden?’ he said.

  ‘No I can’t. This is his home.’

  ‘Oh, so this is the dog’s home but not mine?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Polly said. ‘Dickens has been loyal and faithful ever since we got him.’

  She watched as Sean opened one of the cupboards to fetch a glass. So he remembered which one, Polly couldn’t help thinking as he poured himself a glass of water.

  ‘Be nice if you offered me a cup of tea,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, would it?’

  ‘Polly – for God’s sake – how long are you going to keep this up for?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Maybe three and a half years!’

  ‘Jesus!’

  He shook his head and walked across the room, stopping at the dresser.

  ‘What’s this?’ he asked, picking something up. It was Polly’s folder for the book club. She watched as he flicked through the papers. ‘Castle Clare Book Club,’ he read. ‘Are you in charge of this?’

  ‘I help,’ she said, wishing he’d put her things back down.

  ‘You always were one for making lists and rules about everything, weren’t you?’ He shook his head. ‘You and your books. I never did get that.’

  ‘No, you didn’t.’

  Suddenly, the tension seemed to have calmed between them as quickly as it had flared, but Polly felt as if she was still on tenterhooks, waiting for it all to kick off again.

  ‘I’ve got to get something,’ Sean said at last, leaving the room.

  As she heard him open the front door, a part of her was desperate to close it and lock it behind him and call the police, but what could they do? Arrest him for shouting? Maybe they could arrest him for wasting police time for having so convincingly staged his own disappearance. Polly didn’t rightly know.

  But she was too slow and, before she could do anything, Sean was back in the house again and Polly had to control every fibre of her being not to react at what he was holding in his right hand.

  It was a suitcase.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FİVE

  It was driving Jago crazy not knowing what was going on at Polly’s house. He wasn’t happy with the situation at all. From the little Polly had told Jago about Sean, he didn’t like the idea of her and Archie being alone with him. But what could he do? This was something that she had to sort out herself, he knew that. Still, he couldn’t help wanting to go over there to make sure everything was all right.

  He picked up his phone, thinking that maybe he could get away with a quick phone call instead, just to make sure all was well, but he changed his mind. Just as he was about to put his phone down, he thought about somebody else he could ring and found the number.

  ‘Hello?’ he said a moment later. ‘Bryony?’

  ‘Jago?’ she said, sounding surprised. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Well, I don’t know. Sean’s here.’

  ‘Here where?’

  ‘At Polly’s.’

  ‘Oh, God!’

  ‘He was waiting for her when we got home.’

  ‘Should I come over?’ Bryony asked.

  ‘Probably best not. Polly said she needed to do this on her own.’

  ‘Blimey, Jago, I don’t know what to say,’ she said. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I don’t think I’m the one you should be worrying about,’ he said.

  ‘She really loves you, you know,’ Bryony told him, ‘and I don’t know what Sean’s story is going to be, but whatever he tells Polly isn’t going to change her feelings for you. I’m sure of that.’

  ‘Are you?’ Jago said.

  ‘I really am. I’ve never seen her so happy as when she’s with you. I know we’ve been teasing you both mercilessly, but you’re like one of the family, Jago. You really are. And I hope you don’t feel threatened by Sean coming back like this.’

  Jago took a deep breath. ‘It’s pretty hard not to.’ There was a moment’s pause before Bryony began again.

  ‘You know, there was always something a bit ... off. With Sean, I mean. I could never quite put my finger on it,’ she said. ‘Oh, he was charming and handsome and he genuinely seemed to adore Polly, but – I don’t know – there was something about him I never felt a hundred percent easy about. Does that make sense?’

  Jago sighed. ‘Listen, I’d better go.’

  ‘Keep an eye on things, won’t you?’ Bryony asked.

  ‘Of course,’ he told her.

  Hanging up, Jago stared out of the window across Church Green. It was dark now, but he could see the lights on at Polly’s and he couldn’t help wondering what was going on over there.

  Polly watched as Sean casually walked upstairs with his suitcase and started to unpack in her bedroom. Her bedroom!

  ‘Sean,’ she began, ‘I really don’t think this is–’

  ‘We’ll talk later, Polly,’ he said sharply. ‘Just give me some space, okay?’ He turned to face her for a brief moment and she saw the iciness in his blue eyes and she simply nodded. The old Polly, the compliant Polly, taking over once again.

  ‘I’ll be downstairs,’ she told him.

  As she walked out onto the landing, Archie came out of his bedroom.

  ‘Is he staying?’ he whispered as she approached him.

  ‘I think so,’ she said, stroking his hair.

  ‘Did you ask him to stay?’

  ‘He wants to stay with us,’ she said, evading the question. ‘That’s nice, isn’t it?’

  Arc
hie gave a little shrug and went back inside his room.

  ‘Archie,’ Polly said, following him and pushing his door behind her, ‘your father and I need to talk. We might spend a lot of time talking tonight. Is that okay?’

  ‘What shall I do?’

  ‘You don’t need to do anything,’ she said, ‘but it might be a good idea if you stay in your room. Adults sometimes need a – a little bit of privacy.’ She swallowed hard.

  ‘Okay,’ he said.

  ‘Good boy,’ she said, bending to kiss him.

  She went downstairs. Dickens was pacing around the kitchen looking unsettled, fully aware that there was a stranger in the house and liking it about as much as Polly did. But what could she do? Sean had flashed her one of those looks that she remembered so well and she’d completely backed down. It was a survival tactic that she had learned.

  When he came downstairs, he stood in the doorway of the kitchen glaring at Dickens who glared right back at him.

  ‘I’m probably allergic to dogs,’ he said.

  ‘You’d be sneezing by now if you were,’ Polly told him.

  ‘I don’t want him in this house.’

  ‘Dickens is part of the family.’

  ‘Not part of my family,’ he said.

  ‘You walked out on your family,’ she said. She couldn’t help it. The last thing she wanted to do was to rile him, and yet there was this fundamental need to get back at him for the upset he’d caused her and her family, and the fact that Archie had been growing up without a father.

  ‘How many times do I have to say sorry?’ Sean asked.

  ‘Once would be nice,’ she said, ‘because you haven’t apologised yet.’

  He frowned. ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘You didn’t, Sean. You just turned up and barged your way in here. That wasn’t apologising.

  ‘Yeah, well, I’m sorry.’

  She stared at him as he pulled a chair out and sat at the kitchen table. ‘You are?’

  He put his head in his hands and, for a moment, looked so much like Archie whenever he sat doing some impossible piece of homework that it quite took her breath away and she found herself reaching out to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. And that’s when the crying began. Not hers; his. Big, body-shaking sobs that made Dickens start to whine.

  ‘Hey! It’s okay. It’s okay,’ Polly said, her arms completely around him now.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,’ he said over and over again.

  ‘It’s all right. You’re here now.’

  Later that night, after they’d all had tea together and talked for hours, and after Polly had tucked Archie up in bed and taken Dickens out, they went upstairs together. When Sean asked her for a towel, she went to the airing cupboard and handed one to him. When he came out of the shower, he walked around the bedroom as if he’d never left. She noted that he was still in good shape. He obviously still worked out. He’d always taken a pride in his body, Polly remembered, and she’d felt the result of all that strength on several occasions and had worn the bruises to prove it.

  As she was thinking these thoughts, standing still in the middle of the room, he beckoned to her with a movement of his finger.

  ‘Come to bed, Polly,’ he said, and there was something of both ice and fire in his voice which filled Polly with fear and made her nod and slip into bed beside him.

  ‘So,’ he said, his voice seeming loud in the quiet darkness as his fingers pressed sharply into her flesh, ‘this Jago–’

  ‘Is just a friend,’ Polly said, closing her eyes as Sean began to kiss her.

  Jago cancelled his Monday morning appointment with a pupil. He couldn’t concentrate. Simply put, he couldn’t think of anything other than Polly. He hadn’t wanted to appear stalkerish but he couldn’t help watching as Polly left to take Archie to school that morning. Was it his imagination or did she seem subdued? He really couldn’t tell from all the way across the green and he didn’t think she’d want him approaching her to find out as Sean’s car was still parked outside.

  So, he’d stayed the night, Jago thought. But had Sean spent the night on the sofa? It was driving Jago mad not knowing.

  His mum had left for work earlier that morning and, as soon as Polly drove off with Archie, he started pacing. He’d give her ten minutes to drive into town and drop Archie off and then he’d ring her. He couldn’t wait a single minute more than that.

  Exactly nine minutes and fifty-three seconds later, Jago rang Polly’s mobile.

  ‘Hey!’ he said.

  ‘Jago? I can’t talk now.’

  ‘Why not?’ he said. ‘Sean’s not with you, is he?’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘but I’m coming to see you later.’

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You don’t sound fine,’ Jago said.

  ‘I’ll talk to you later, okay?’ She hung up.

  He raked a hand through his hair and sighed and managed to get absolutely nothing done as he waited for Polly to call round to his house.

  She arrived half an hour later and he answered the door on her first knock.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘I need us to – to ...’ she didn’t finish.

  ‘Come inside, Polly.’

  ‘No, I can’t,’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’s watching.’ She turned to look back across the green at her home. Jago looked too, but didn’t see any sign of Sean.

  ‘He spent the night, didn’t he?’ he said. ‘Didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, almost as if ashamed to admit the fact. ‘I couldn’t say no.’

  ‘No?’ Jago said, frowning. ‘Why not? Why couldn’t you say no to the husband who walked out on you and your son?’

  ‘Because we needed to talk.’

  ‘And what did he have to say? How did he explain his absence for the last three and a half years?’

  ‘He – erm – he’s sorry.’

  ‘Oh, really? Is that all he had to say?’

  ‘He was confused and–’

  ‘Confused? What, like he woke up one morning and thought, “What on earth was I doing getting married and having a kid? I’d better get out of this fast!”’

  ‘Jago, please!’

  ‘No, Polly, I really want to know what’s going on with this guy you’ve let back into your life.’

  ‘He’s Archie’s father.’

  ‘Biological father, maybe, but Archie certainly doesn’t seem to know him.’

  ‘They talked last night,’ Polly said.

  ‘That’s nice. A father who talks to his son every few years.’

  ‘And we talked as well.’

  ‘Give the guy a medal!’ Jago said, unable to hide the anger from his voice.

  ‘Why are you being like this?’ Polly asked.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘You’re all sharp and defensive.’

  ‘I’m being like this because you’re not!’

  ‘I’ve got to give him a chance, Jago.’

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  ‘I’m not kidding. He’s Archie’s father.’

  ‘You keep saying that as though it gives him a right to mess your lives up.’

  ‘He knows what he did is wrong and he’s sorry for it. And he’s my husband and I loved him once. I’ve got to give him a chance, Jago. Can’t you understand that?’

  Jago stared hard at her. It was as if the Polly he’d known and fallen in love with had somehow vanished in the night because he hardly recognised the woman standing before him now.

  ‘He’s brainwashed you, Polly. He knows exactly how to reel you back in. He’s a nasty manipulative-’

  ‘Stop it!’

  Jago sighed in frustration because he just wasn’t getting through to her.

  ‘Is this what you really want,’ he asked. ‘What you really truly want?’

  ‘It’s the right thing to do.’

  ‘Has he hurt
you? Because, if he has, I’ll be over there so fast–’

  ‘Please don’t,’ she said quickly. ‘This isn’t your battle. And – no – he hasn’t hurt me.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘What about Archie’s guitar lessons?’ Jago asked. ‘I can still come over for those, can’t I?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

  ‘I see,’ Jago said. ‘And what about us? Is that it?’ He saw her eyes fill with tears.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

  He shook his head. ‘Don’t do this, Polly. Please don’t do this.’

  ‘I have to give Sean a chance,’ she said and, before he could say anything else, she turned and ran across the green back towards her house.

  Jago was a nervous wreck by the time his mum came home from work.

  ‘I told you not to get involved with her,’ she said once Jago had blurted out what was going on. ‘I had a bad feeling about this from the start.’

  ‘Mum, saying “I told you so” isn’t going to solve anything.’

  ‘Well, at least it’s over now. Better sooner than later, that’s what I say.’

  Jago sighed in exasperation. ‘This is far from over.’

  ‘What you mean? You’re not going to involve yourself in this, Jago. I think it’s time you backed away.’

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘You will do that,’ she told him.

  He shook his head. ‘I only met this Sean once, but you know who he reminded me of? Dad.’

  Maureen paled at the mention of her estranged husband. ‘You’re being fanciful and overdramatic,’ she said, walking through to the kitchen and busying herself with putting the shopping away.

  ‘I can see exactly what he’s like,’ he said, following her. ‘He’s not to be trusted, Mum.’ He stared hard at her and she seemed to understand him.

  ‘You think he’ll hurt her?’ she asked, her voice low and fearful.

  ‘I don’t know what he’s capable of,’ Jago said, ‘but I love her and I love that son of hers and I’m going to be there for them whether they want me or not.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SİX

  As soon as Polly had returned from the school run, Sean asked her to sit down.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘I called my parents.’