CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
It was two weeks since I went to Joel’s flat to tell him about Polly.
A whole fortnight of desperately wishing I could see him to try and explain my side of the story – but knowing I had to be patient and just be content with the snippets Polly told me about how well they were getting on. I’d spent time with her myself and each meeting was better than the last as we discovered more about each other and grew ever closer.
I was so thrilled to have found her.
My life would have been close to perfect if it wasn’t for Joel’s insistence that he didn’t want to see me. Polly had tried to persuade him to at least talk to me. She knew how much I cared about him still. But it was clear from what she said that the subject of me was off the table as far as Joel was concerned.
I clung to the hope that maybe Polly, who now knew every harrowing bit of my sad story, might be able to soften his feelings towards me a little. If we could just be cordial with each other, I’d be happy. And maybe, down the line, friendship could follow. But none of that would be possible if he continued to hold a grudge against me.
Knowing he might never forgive me was devastating.
*****
A barn dance to mark the end of the Winter Arts Festival was being held in the marquee on the village green.
I really wasn’t in the mood to be hurling myself around a sweaty dance floor.
But Ellie had somehow managed to persuade me.
‘It’s going to be a traditional Scottish ceilidh and I’ve been to one before,’ she’d said, full of enthusiasm. ‘It’s very energetic but loads of fun.’
‘Oh, I don’t know . . .’ I’d instantly tried to back out.
‘Bring Polly. You don’t have to stay very long. But I can guarantee that once you’re on that floor stripping the willow, you’ll be having such a great time you won’t want to leave.’
‘Stripping the willow? It sounds barbaric. What on earth is it?’
She laughed. ‘You’ll only find out if you come with us.’
So I’d agreed – more out of wanting to spend time with Polly than anything else.
But one thing was certain. I definitely wouldn’t be ‘stripping the willow’, whatever spooky ancient ritual that happened to be!