‘Oh,’ Polly said, surprised by this news. ‘Are they okay?’
Sean shrugged. ‘Mum was crying,’ he said as if this was very odd behaviour indeed.
‘I’m not surprised,’ Polly said seriously. ‘Sean, you put her through hell–’
‘Don’t start!’
‘I’m not starting,’ she said. ‘It’s just you seem surprised that she would cry.’
‘Women are weak.’
‘Sean!’
He started pacing the room. ‘I’m back, okay? I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’
Polly gave him a moment to calm down. ‘Are you going to see them?’ she asked.
‘We’re going to see them. Right now.’
‘Now?’
‘No point in prolonging the agony,’ he said, and she felt quite sure that he was referring to his own agony rather than that of his parents. ‘Come on.’
They went in Sean’s car and drove the country lanes in silence. Polly still couldn’t believe that he was really back, that he was really alive! The evening they’d spent together had been tense and bizarre, but she had also seen little glimpses of the Sean she’d fallen in love with. The Sean who had been so charming, so loving.
But, try as she might to overcome her feelings, she knew in her heart that the situation she now found herself in wasn’t normal. He wasn’t normal. To be able to do what he’d done to his family, to simply walk away without explanation or apology, to cruelly have them wonder if he was even alive. What kind of a person did that? Yet here he was, seemingly trying to make a go of things, and did she really have the right to deny him that and to deny her son his father?
Maybe Sean had changed too. When he’d broken down and apologised to her, it seemed as if he truly saw the agony he’d caused her and Archie and was genuinely remorseful. Maybe they could forge some sort of future together. Was that possible? Polly wasn’t sure. She felt so confused and conflicted by what was happening.
She looked out of the window as they raced past high hedges and she thought about Jago, his kind face filling her mind. Only it hadn’t been so kind when she told him she was leaving him. She didn’t think she would forget the hollowness she’d seen there and the hurt which had filled his eyes, those beautiful slate-grey eyes which had never been filled with anything other than love and kindness.
She clutched her hands together in her lap to stop them from shaking and blinked away the tears that threatened to spill. She had to pull herself together if she was going to face her parents-in-law.
Anthony and Alison Prior were both standing at the front door when they pulled into Constable View and Polly watched as Sean got out of the car and his mother ran into his arms, tears streaming down her face.
Polly gave them a moment before joining them.
‘Come inside,’ Anthony said, ‘come inside.’ He seemed aware that his wife was making a spectacle of herself and that sort of thing just didn’t happen in a nice little cul-de-sac like Constable View.
There were more tears inside and Sean did his best to calm his mother down.
‘We didn’t know where you were...’
‘I know.’
‘We thought you were dead!’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Why didn’t you call, Sean? Why did you let us go on thinking–’
‘I’m here now, Mum. I’m here,’ he said, just as he’d said to Polly. It was all the explanation he was going to give and it was no explanation at all. He hugged his mother close to him so that she was unable to say anything else.
It was a good half an hour before things calmed to something approaching normality. Alison Prior had actually had to leave the room at one stage and Polly guessed that she was washing her face and composing herself in the bathroom. When she came back into the room, she looked at Sean with tear-bright eyes and then she shook her head.
‘This woman turned up, Sean. Sophie something or other.’
‘Randall,’ Anthony said.
‘That’s right,’ his mother said. ‘Young, pretty. She said she knew you, darling.’
Sean shifted uneasily on the sofa next to Polly and he shook his head. ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘We worked together.’
‘She seemed worried about you,’ Alison continued.
‘Yep. Always was a worrier, Sophie,’ he said with some levity. ‘I’m sorry she bothered you. I’ll have a word with her.’
Polly sat watching her husband’s face. He was completely unmoved by the plight of this young woman, wasn’t he? He had met her, made her love him, and left her. She didn’t matter to him. The fact that she’d followed him from the south coast to the east, desperately trying to find out what had happened to him, meant absolutely nothing to him.
Alison glanced at her husband and they exchanged a look which seemed to say that this was a subject best left alone. Polly knew that Sean’s mother felt that something wasn’t quite right about it all and oh, how Polly wished she had the courage there and then to stand up and shout, “Your son isn’t normal.” She wanted to scream and throw things around the room. She felt so angry that this man, her husband, thought he had the right to turn everybody’s lives upside down and then to just come waltzing back and expect everything to slot into place without so much as a few tears. And, more than anything, she wanted him to pay for what he’d done. It wasn’t fair that his parents should accept what he told them, but hadn’t she done exactly the same thing? She wondered if he managed to manipulate his parents just as easily as he’d manipulated her.
So Polly didn’t shout or scream. She remained sat on the pristine white sofa, her hands clasped in her lap as though this was the most normal situation in the world.
When Alison went through to the kitchen to make tea, Polly went to help her, keen to leave her husband’s presence if only for a few moments.
‘Did you know he was back?’ Alison whispered as she pushed the kitchen door behind them for some privacy.
‘I wasn’t sure,’ she said. ‘I had some suspicions.’
‘You should have told us.’
‘I didn’t want to build your hopes up.’
‘And this Sophie business. What do you make of that?’
Polly swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. ‘I’m not sure what to make of it, but I think she’s gone now, hasn’t she?’
Alison nodded. ‘She looked in a terrible state, poor girl. We didn’t know what to do with her.’
The two women stared at each other and Polly could see that Alison was shaking.
‘Let me do that,’ Polly said, taking over the tea things. If there was one thing Polly was good at in any situation, it was getting the tea made.
‘I can’t believe he’s really here,’ Alison said, leaning on the sink for support. ‘My son.’
Polly saw the elation in Alison’s eyes, but she could see the fear and anxiety too.
‘Archie must be thrilled,’ Alison said, and Polly thought of the way her son had sat on the floor of the living room, listening to his estranged father without really looking at him, gently accepting the words which were being spoken. Polly wondered what on earth had been going through his mind.
They took the tea things through to the living room and a strange half an hour past during which questions were asked but not always answered. Sean was the master of deflection, turning the conversation in any direction he wanted. Was Polly the only one who could see that? His mother and father seemed to be completely under Sean’s spell and Polly really wasn’t surprised when he had them both laughing at some joke which she didn’t find very funny at all.
Finally, he got up to go.
‘Can’t you stay a little longer?’ His mother begged, as if terrified that he was going to vanish again.
‘Things to do,’ he said enigmatically and Alison nodded, accepting this.
‘Of course, darling.’ She leaned in and kissed him and Sean shook his father’s hand, accepting the awkward back slap that followed.
‘I hope you’ll b
e staying now, son,’ Anthony said and Polly noticed the stern tone of voice and the serious look on his face. ‘You gave us quite a turn just disappearing like that.’
Sean did a funny kind of shuffle and made his way towards the door without saying anything.
‘Do you think we should go to my parents now?’ Polly asked once they were back in the car and had waved their goodbyes. She didn’t really savour the idea of a visit to Campion House, but it seemed only fair having visited Sean’s parents.
‘We’re not going to visit your parents, Polly,’ he told her as they drove out of the village and into the country lanes.
She frowned. ‘Why not?’
Sean slowed the car down, pulling over in a passing place.
‘What is it?’ Polly asked, suddenly anxious.
He switched the engine off and unclipped his seatbelt and then he turned to face her, grabbing her right wrist in his hand.
‘I can’t believe you gave Sophie my parents’ address?’
‘Sean–’
His grip was vice-like and his eyes had that steely quality again. ‘Sean, please, you’re hurting me.’
‘And you think you haven’t hurt me by giving my parents’ details to that woman?’
‘She was worried about you. I texted her the address. I’m sorry, okay?’
‘It’s not okay, Polly. It was none of your damned business to interfere.’
‘None of my damned business? I’m your wife, Sean! Another woman who you’d been living with came to our home wondering where the hell you were, and you say it’s none of my damned business?’
Keeping hold of her wrist, he pulled her closer towards him and then flung her back so that she cracked her head on the window of the passenger door.
‘Your loyalty’s to me, Polly. To me! Not to Sophie Randall!’
He fastened up his seatbelt and started the car again and Polly stared at him, Her hand inched back towards the passenger door. If she was quick enough, she could get out and run, just run. Across the fields, through the woods, leaping wintry ditches, she didn’t care. As long as she got away from Sean.
But she wasn’t quick enough. With a skid of tyres, Sean pulled out into the lane and drove them both back home.
A tense week went by with Polly spending as much time in Sam, Bryony and Josh’s shops as possible and taking on an extra class at her school, explaining to Sean that that was her normal timetable.
Her siblings had all been questioning her, of course, and her parents had been in to the bookshop to see her whilst she was working, asking when Sean was going to pay them a visit. Polly had managed to deflect their questions with vague answers, and her father had told her mother that Polly and Sean obviously needed time to get to know each other again before they all descended on him. Polly had smiled and nodded her assent, but her mother had probed her with those questioning eyes of hers and her father had looked anything but happy about the situation and she couldn’t blame him for that. They were all obviously anxious about Sean’s reappearance.
Sean had been working on his boat, fixing it up now that the weather was improving, and he’d been getting home some time after six in the evenings which at least meant that Polly had a couple of hours to spend alone with Archie. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet since Sean’s arrival. But, then again, hadn’t she too? Both of them seemed to have slunk away deep into themselves as if trying to ride out a storm and, all the time, Polly was cursing herself for getting her and her son into this situation.
It was Friday night when Sean finally snapped. Archie was sitting at the table eating his tea. Well, he wasn’t really eating it, Polly observed; he was just kind of rearranging it on his plate. Sean was sitting opposite him watching and Polly saw the precise moment that the indulgent smile left his face to be replaced with a dangerous frown.
‘Archie – go to your room,’ she told him.
‘Let him finish his tea,’ Sean said. ‘The boy needs to eat.’
‘He’s not hungry.’
‘Eat your tea, Archie,’ Sean said, his voice raising. Dickens gave a low growl from his basket. He hadn’t stopped growling at Sean all week and Sean hadn’t stopped glaring at Dickens.
‘Quiet, boy,’ Polly said, giving the dog a warning look.
‘Shut up!’ Sean snapped at Dickens. ‘Or I’ll kick you out right now.’
Archie glared at his father and then got up from his chair.
‘Go and do your homework, darling,’ Polly said. ‘I’ll be up in a moment.’
When Polly heard Archie’s bedroom door close, she got up to clear his things away from the table.
‘Leave it,’ Sean said.
‘I just want to–’
‘I said, leave it.’ He was on his feet in an instant, his hand gripping Polly’s wrist once more in that vice-like way of his.
‘Let go of me!’ Polly cried.
‘Why do you defy me?’
‘What?’
‘I tell you to do something and you blatantly ignore me.’
‘I was just clearing the table,’ she told him.
‘It doesn’t matter what you were doing. I told you not to do it.’
‘You’re not my boss, Sean,’ she said. ‘I’m not yours to command.’ Her heart was racing now and she knew that the words she was speaking had the power to rile him, but she simply couldn’t stop herself. Seeing Archie’s pale face at the dining table had been more than she could bear. This simply couldn’t go on. Sean had to leave.
‘You’re my wife, Polly,’ he told. ‘You took a vow.’
‘I took a vow to love you, not to obey you. No modern woman with any sense says those words anymore. In fact, I’ve had enough. There was a time when I thought I wanted you back. I wanted Archie to have his father and I wanted the Sean I’d fallen in love with. But he never really existed, did he? There were glimpses of him now and then but he was lost inside this other cruel man, and I won’t have him back. Not in my house. Not with my son.’
‘What?’ he snapped, his hand still tight around her wrist. ‘What are you saying?’
She stared him straight in the eyes as she spoke. Her words calm and clear. ‘I want you to leave,’ she said. ‘I want you to go upstairs and pack your things and I want you out of this house – right now.’ Even as she said the words, she knew what was coming. It was fully expected.
But it would be worth it.
Maureen Solomon had just drawn the living room curtains at 7 Church Green when there was a knock on the door
‘You expecting someone?’ she asked Jago.
‘No,’ he said, going to the door as a second round of knocks sounded. ‘Archie?’ he said a moment later.
The young boy looked up at him, his eyes large and full of fear. ‘It’s Mummy,’ he said. ‘She needs your help.’
Jago took Archie’s hand and the two of them ran across the green together just as they saw Sean pulling away in his car.
‘Where’s your mum?’
‘In the kitchen!’ Archie cried as he opened the front door before running down the hallway.
When Jago entered the kitchen, Polly was on the floor near the dresser amongst broken glass and crockery, her knees drawn up into her chest and her arms over her head, Dickens by her side looking distressed.
‘Polly!’ Jago gasped, instantly on his knees beside her. ‘Look at me.’
Polly lifted her head. Her beautiful dark eyes were full of tears but there was something of triumph in her expression and she began to laugh.
‘What is it?’ Jago asked. ‘Are you okay? Did he hurt you?’
Tears spilt down her reddened cheeks. ‘Dickens went for him!’ she said.
‘What?’ Jago said as Polly held her arms open to Archie and he fell into them.
‘Dickens defended me. My hero,’ she said, stroking the dog’s long silky ears. ‘And you, darling Archie!’
‘I heard him shouting,’ Archie said. ‘So I came downstairs.’
‘It’s okay. He’s gone now.’<
br />
‘And you two are not staying here a minute longer.’ Jago told them.
‘But this is our home. He’s not scaring us away from our home.’
‘I’m not leaving you here. You’re coming back with me right now. Pack a few things together and we’ll get you out of here.’
‘He won’t come back. Not after what Dickens did,’ Polly said.
Jago shook his head. ‘We’re not going to take that chance. Pack your things,’ he told her again.
Maureen was waiting by her front door when they crossed the green together.
‘I can’t put on your mother,’ Polly said.
‘Yes you can,’ Jago told her, his arm around her shoulder. ‘She’ll want to help, trust me.’
‘Oh, my dear!’ Maureen said as Polly entered the house followed by Archie, Jago and Dickens. The bruise on her cheek was beginning to deepen and her ribs felt sore too. ‘Let me get you fixed up.’
Polly nodded. She felt numb now and she allowed herself to be taken care of.
‘I’m ringing the police,’ Jago said.
‘Not yet, Jago,’ Maureen said.
‘But we need to-’
‘We need to take care of Polly. We’ll sort things out with the police later.’
Polly didn’t protest. She just wanted it all to go away.
‘Archie – why don’t you and Dickens sit by the fire? Have a strum on my guitar there,’ Jago said.
‘Really?’ Archie’s face instantly lit up and Polly smiled as she watched her son pick up the full-size guitar.
‘Come on,’ Maureen said, ‘you’re coming with me.’ She guided Polly up the stairs to her bedroom and Polly sat on the edge of the bed. There then followed a quiet few moments during which Maureen bathed Polly’s face.
‘You’ve got broken glass in your hair,’ Maureen told her, taking care to pick it all out.
‘He’s not a very good shot,’ Polly said with a grim laugh. ‘It could have been a lot worse.’
Maureen shook her head as she continued to work in silence.
‘Thank you,’ Polly said to her after a moment.
‘You don’t need to thank me.’
‘Yes I do,’ Polly said. ‘I need to thank you for Jago.’
Rules for a Successful Book Club (The Book Lovers 2) Page 27