25
Polly set off on foot to the harbourside where she was meeting up with Mel at the Bicycle Café; Polly had arranged for Daisy to collect Rowan. Thank goodness for Daisy.
It was early evening as Polly settled to wait at a table on a balcony overlooking the river. She checked her watch. She was early. Shading her eyes from the low-lying sun, she wondered if she could see where Spike was working on his friend’s boat, from here. She stood up to have a look but couldn’t, so she sat back in the uncomfortable-yet-stylish silver metal chair and stared over the water, not thinking of anything in particular. A waitress arrived with her cappuccino. ‘Thanks.’ Opening a sachet of brown sugar, she poured half into her cup and then reached into her bag for her notebook and pen. She might as well do a spot of freewriting while she waited.
Gazing at the houses opposite, she began to write – Rows of houses whose balconies resemble pockets on a man’s shirt; gulls calling and swooping down over the heads of commuters crossing the small swing bridge on their way home to Totterdown, Windmill Hill or Southville. Hmm, could be the start of a poem? Polly paused to listen to the sound of seagulls. To her, their cries were a call to adventure. She scribbled away about Bristol being a seafaring city, where once thrived stevedores, smugglers and explorers setting sail for new worlds.
A ferry boat with a brightly painted red top pushed its way along the river; on its prow, a small light already switched on. The sun was setting, and with the sun went the warmth. Polly shivered as she set down her pen to pull on her faux leopardskin coat.
She looked across to where Mel had reached the top of the steps that ran up the outside of the café to the verandah. As Polly waved, her friend smiled back in greeting and made her way over, puffing a little from the climb.
‘Hi. You been waiting long?’ Mel gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘Want another coffee?’ she asked, the fading sun reflecting off her blue-rimmed Wayfarer sunglasses.
*
W e’ve been through a lot, me and Mel , thought Polly, as she watched her friend return with their drinks.
‘I’m glad you called, lovey,’ said Mel, taking her seat and then getting stuck right in, ‘because we need to get a few things cleared up once and for all, don’t you think?’
She had that determined-Mel expression on her face. She meant business. Next to them, a seagull sat perched on the rail. Bit close , Polly noted.
‘Starting with Spike. Now you might think that I shouldn’t have asked Spike to be my sperm donor,’ she began. ‘Not without asking you first.’
‘Yes, I do think that.’
Mel gave Polly a look.
‘Oh, c’mon, Mel – you must realise it’s a pretty stupid idea. Your having a baby with Spike.’
‘I do not think it a stupid idea at all,’ said Mel, as she leant forwards. ‘You forget that you agreed. We have discussed this before—’
‘Yes, but that was when Spike was in Australia. It was purely academic. You don’t think that if I’d known he was going to turn up larger than life that I’d have agreed?’
Mel humphed.
‘In any case – this you and Fen having a baby. Do you seriously think it’s a good idea? When she wants to control just who you do or do not see? Hmm?’
The seagull in profile appeared to have its beady eye fixed on the women. Mel shifted in her seat as the gull looked the other way. A vision of Tippi Hedren fending off seagulls in The Birds flitted through Polly’s mind.
‘Fuck’s sake, Polly. Fen is my girlfriend. If you cared about me then you’d stop dissing her.’ Mel’s ice cream was melting in the dish, and her triangular wafer had been fixed on by the seagull’s gimlet eye.
‘I love her,’ Mel continued.
‘So you say,’ Polly turned her full attention on her friend, ‘but is it enough?’
‘Right then, missus. If you’re going to get all high and mighty, then it’s time I put you straight.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘It’s all right for you – getting yourself pregnant “by accident”.’ Putting in the quote marks with her fingers. ‘Getting knocked up by a commitment-phobic toy boy who was leaving the country. How very convenient for someone with their body clock ticking loudly!’
‘You what? Take that back!’ (Secretly Polly was rather enjoying having a verbal fight with Mel – nothing like a Mel-fight to clear the air.) ‘And I might say, a toy boy who you now want to have a baby with an’ all!’ she retorted. Yeah, she could give as good as she got.
‘At least ours would be planned,’ parried Mel. ‘At least we’re being responsible and exploring the options instead of getting up the duff like some chav on a council housing estate—’
‘You know perfectly well it wasn’t like that!’ Oh, losing the advantage there, Polly .
‘I don’t know what your problem is. It’s not like I’d be muscling in on you and Spike, is it? Because as you keep telling me, there is no you and Spike—’
‘Of course there isn’t!’
‘Hmm. Methinks the lady doth protest too much.’ Mel scoring an Ace! (Especially because that particular Shakespearean phrase was a favourite of their English teacher Mrs Yabsley, who’d churn it out whenever someone protested that, yes, they had actually, really and truly, forgotten their homework, or yes, the dog definitely did eat it – treasury tag an’ all – ‘Honest, Miss!’)
‘Bit below the belt,’ said Polly – a foul to Mel Healey. ‘You old lezzer!’ A grin now threatening to break out.
‘You sperm-stealing floozy!’ retaliated Mel, as a couple of businessmen at a nearby table glanced over, clearly wondering if it was all about to kick off.
The two women stared at each other, and then Polly leant over to give Mel a pinch on the arm. ‘Ouch!’
Mel retaliated with a thump on her friend’s arm, grinning a broad grin now as she sat back, surveyed her friend and said, ‘Come ’ere, you.’ She got up out of her seat and hurried round to give her bestest-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world a hug and kiss.
‘Gerroff!’ Polly said loudly and then – for the benefit of the men, who were doing a poor job of pretending they weren’t listening – ‘I told you before! I don’t care if you are a transsexual – the baby’s yours!’
One of the men spluttered his coffee, and the other shot them a look of disdain.
Polly and Mel burst out laughing, and the seagull launched itself towards their table, snatched Mel’s wafer from her dish and then, with a laconic flap of its giant wings, took off into the evening air.
‘Did you see that?’ said one of the men.
Mel, who’d ducked at the last minute, was now joining Polly in snorts of laughter.
‘I’m not giving up on your one day seeing that my having Spike’s child makes sense,’ said Mel, swigging from a bottle of St Miguel beer.
‘It’s not just me you’d have to convince,’ said Polly, also on beer. ‘I’ve spoken to Spike, and he insists that he’s not interested.’
‘There’s time before he goes back. He’ll come round. What? Please think about how brilliant it could be. You know that Rowan is my favourite child of all times. She’s gorgeous. Spike’s got good genes, you gotta give him that. Our kids could be half-siblings – how cool would that be?’
Polly shook her head sadly. ‘There’s no guarantee – I mean, look at Max with his Omen -like devil child.’
‘Never mind all that,’ said Mel. ‘Think how we could all be a big extended family. My baby a half-brother or half-sister to Rowan.’
Polly knew there was no point arguing when Mel was like this. Clearly she was still hoping to go ahead and use the sperm of Polly’s ex-boyfriend to father a child. In the mad hope that she’d produce a replica Rowan.
‘Have you thought of counselling, Mel? Someone dispassionate to talk it all through with?’
‘What on earth for? I might be desperate, but I don’t want just anyone’s sperm.’ She looked Polly straight in the eye. ‘I’m asking you one last time to reconsider and change your mind.’
Polly said nothing.
‘Say something. Huh?’
Polly took a deep breath. ‘Mel. I’m not the boss of you. Of course I’m not. I do sympathise, truly I do. I mean, there’s nothing so wonderful or so knackering as having a child…’
‘So you must see that’s what I want too. For myself.’
Polly smiled in what she hoped would be a letting-her-friend-down-gently kind of way. ‘I hear what you say about us becoming more of a family, and how that might seem on the surface to be a positive thing. But… Spike? Have you thought this through? I can’t see him wanting anything whatsoever to do with any child he fathered.’ ( Even though we’ve not talked this through ourselves). ‘And what about Bam? How would she feel? What about donor agencies? There must be some good ones. We could make a list.’
‘You don’t have to worry about Bam,’ Mel said.
Polly leant across the table and took her friend’s hand in hers. ‘You know I love you. But if you want my blessing then I can’t guarantee it, but I will consider it. I can’t say fairer than that.’
Mel looked as if she was considering something. ‘There’s no need for you to draw up a list,’ she finally said.
‘C’mon, Mel. Don’t give up at the first hurdle. It’s a brilliant idea to go for a donor.’
‘No. You don’t understand,’ she said, lifting her head. ‘We don’t want just any donor. I’m going to ask Spike again.’
‘I realise I can’t stop you…’
‘What you don’t know,’ said Mel, sounding more enthusiastic now, ‘is that I’ve already discussed it with Bam and she is totally cool with the whole idea. Especially as they’re going to be returning to Oz anyway.’
‘Bam doesn’t mind that you want a baby with Spike?’
‘No. She understands my predicament.’ She gave Polly an unlike-you sort of stare. ‘After all, it’s only his sperm, not him that I’m after. I’d be having a baby with Fen, and she’ll be the other parent, not Spike. I know that once you’ve had a chance to think this through properly, you will see that it makes sense. It could be brilliant.’
‘It feels wrong.’
Mel moved her shoulder out of the way as a waitress came to collect their coffee cups and bowl. Once she’d gone, Mel said – rather grimly – ‘Right. Well, if that’s your final word…’
She stirred her coffee and, for a horrible moment, Polly thought Mel was going to cry. Mel never cried, and if she did now then Polly would feel it was all her fault. It is all your fault!
‘I think you’re being incredibly selfish, Poll,’ Mel said, so quietly that Polly had to ask her to repeat herself. ‘I said you’re incredibly selfish. I’ve always been there for you. Right from when you first discovered you were pregnant. I’ve done nothing but support you.’
‘Mel, I am really sorry, and I’m truly grateful—’
‘Save it. I don’t want your gratitude. It’s all right for you,’ she said, collecting her bag from underneath the table. ‘You’ve got your baby.’ She sat with her bag on her lap. ‘I’m not getting any younger. This could be my last chance. Whether or not me and Fen work things out.’ At this, she turned away from Polly a little. ‘Truth be told, she’s already cooling to the idea.’
‘Mel, I—’
Mel put out her hand to silence Polly. ‘So,’ she said, giving a grim smile, ‘looks like I might well have to go it alone.’ She pushed a stray hair out of her eye. ‘Whaddaya know, turns out we could both be destined to end up alone.’
‘You and me. Two old biddies wandering around Clifton, muttering about what might have been,’ said Polly, raising her bottle in salute at her friend.
‘Yeah,’ agreed Mel, as she clinked bottles with Polly. ‘Like a right couple of Miss Havishams. We’ll have badges saying Retired Sex Bombs…’
‘…or Spinsters R Us!’
Mel’s eyes were starting to fill up once more.
‘Don’t you dare cry,’ said Polly, as she passed her friend a tissue. ‘You’ll get me started.’
Mel wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
‘I love you, Mel. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Oh, fuck off.’ Mel gave her one of her killer smiles and playfully punched Polly on the arm. ‘I love you too. Wally.’
The office guys exchanged glances, which Mel noticed. ‘Think we’ve stirred up their girl-on-girl fantasies, don’t you?’ Then louder, she said, ‘Can’t wait to get you home. I’ve got a special leather strap-on dildo from that catalogue we could try out!’
Polly glanced over at the suitably shocked-looking men; the two women burst into laughter. ‘Don’t mind us,’ Mel called over to them. ‘We’re just larking about.’ The men returned, rather too earnestly, to their conversation.
‘Mel,’ said Polly, ‘I don’t ever want you to forget that no matter what happens, you will always have me.’
‘Ditto, mate.’
‘I mean it. Whatever you decide to do about a baby, or Fen, or anyone.’
‘You and me together, eh?’ said Mel.
‘Forever,’ smiled Polly.
Mel reached out and lightly touched her friend’s hand. ‘Look, Polly, there’s been something else I’ve been meaning to say…’
Polly groaned. ‘What now?’
‘It’s about Spike. I know you. You’re scared. Scared to tell him how you really feel.’
‘Look, Mel—’
‘No, don’t interrupt me, I’ve been meaning to tackle this for a while now. This thing with Bam. It won’t last. He’s meant to be with you, Polly – anyone with half a brain can see that. I’ve seen the way your eyes light up whenever his name is mentioned. You can’t fool me. I know you. Do you still love him? You can tell me.’
‘Truly? I don’t know, Mel.’
‘Perhaps you should talk to him. Spend some time together.’
‘But Bam’s always around.’
‘Do it, Polly. I’m serious. What if he was to go and you missed your chance? Don’t let him leave for Australia without knowing how you feel.’
‘But I don’t know what I feel, Mel. That’s the problem.’
A ferry tooted its horn and sailed through the swing bridge while commuters, cars and cyclists all waited for it to pass them by.
*
On her way home, Polly’s brain went into overdrive. Was Spike – after all – the answer to Mel’s prayers? Had Polly been unreasonable in not seeing her friend’s point of view? Did she have the right? Oh God , she thought, stopping in her tracks, I have been selfish, haven’t I? What’s more, she had not tried hard enough to get along with Fen. She resumed striding along the riverside path.
If Mel could persuade Spike to be her donor (although Polly didn’t think it likely), then who was she to get in her way?
Was Mel right? Did she still love Spike? Surely she didn’t – that would be too pathetic. Yet there was no denying that his presence made her feel strange and raised all sorts of questions.
‘I’ll have to finish with Max, won’t I?’ she said out loud. ‘If I do have feelings for Spike.’ But did she? She checked around to make sure no one could overhear her mad ramblings. ‘Finish with Max,’ she mumbled. ‘Is that what I ought to do?’ She paused for a while on the dockside as she waited for some – any – emotional response to having just suggested to herself that she finish with her boyfriend. Did she feel upset at the prospect? Nope. Nothing. She felt nothing.
Guess that settles it then , she thought, as she headed off along the path once more. If I’m not upset at the notion of finishing with Max, then I can’t be in love with him. Full stop .
She nearly collided with a woman walking her dog. ‘Whoops!’ The woman swerved to avoid her. ‘Sorry.’ She’d better get herself home before she knocked someone into the river.
Polly trudged up the incline leading to her road. Wouldn’t she be mad, to throw away someone like Max, who was perfect on paper? If Spike was merely some echo? Maybe if Spike hadn’t turned up then she’d be madly in love with Max by now. So why dump him when he’d not done anything other than spawn devil child Ben and have different ideas on child-rearing?
Traffic whizzed by, causing an airstream which pulled at her hair and tugged at her hemline. Right. So, what if… what if we had a break instead? Yes, that could work. A break – until Spike left the country? No, that might be too long. Max might meet someone else. Maybe just for a couple of weeks… She stomped up to her door. In the meantime, she ought to make things better with Mel.
*
Once indoors, Polly rummaged inside her handbag for her mobile. She’d time to make this call before she was due to collect Rowan from Daisy’s. Placing a smile on her face (as she’d heard somewhere that difficult telephone conversations were best tackled while smiling – apparently the smile comes through in your voice – worth a try), she pressed Call.
Spike picked up on the third ring, and Polly launched right in.
‘I’ve been talking to Mel.’
‘Is that you, Polly?’
‘Who else would it be?’
‘Any number of people.’
Determined not to be wrong-footed by his teasing, she tried again. ‘I’ve been talking to Mel—’
‘So you said—’
‘…and I want you to know that I no longer have any objections to your being her sperm donor.’
‘Are you a bit tiddly, there, Polly?’
‘No, I am not.’
‘So you’re seriously suggesting that I should rethink my position. Is that right?’
‘Well… yes.’
‘But haven’t I already told you, Polly, that I do not think it’s a good idea? Not to put too fine a point on it – the whole idea is downright bonkers. Especially as she’s your best friend.’
‘What if she wasn’t my best friend?’
‘’Twould still be a no.’
‘Mel said she’d spoken to Bam, and Bam was fine with it.’
‘Did she now? Whether Mel has or has not spoken to Bam makes no odds. It’s my call. I make my own decisions about my wee fellas. Although you and I didn’t exactly…’
‘No. Quite.’
‘Bam does not speak for me, Polly. I’m sure she meant well…’
‘Okay. I just… I don’t know… You don’t think I was being mean, do you? Telling Mel that I was against it? Effectively putting the mockers on everything?’
Gentle laughter – the same laughter she’d once loved, once dreamt of, and once yearned to hear again – came from the other end of the line, giving her a warm feeling. ‘Polly, whatever shall I do with you? You are never mean, Polly Park,’ he said, then paused. ‘Least ways, not intentionally.’
‘Do you love her?’ she said quietly into the receiver. But he’d already hung up.