36
Home, in front of a few logs burning in Polly’s grate, Spike sat on the sofa waiting for Polly to join him; his hand nursing a mug of hot chocolate laced with brandy, while a fast-asleep-yet-happy Rowan sprawled next to him. Even in her sleep, she had a smile on her face.
Earlier, when Spike and Polly burst through Polly’s front door, accompanied by all the others – Mel, Anna, John and Daisy – they were greeted by Tiggy and Dolphin (who’d plainly been canoodling – or worse – on the sofa). ‘Mum!’ said Tiggy, hurriedly straightening her clothes as the assembled group grinned at their embarrassment.
Upstairs, Rowan was wide awake. Alerted by the kerfuffle of the arrivals, she heard her father’s voice, clambered out of bed and made her way along the landing – Winnie the Pooh dangling in her grasp – to the top of the stairs, where she stood at the locked stair gate and called, ‘Daddy, daddy, da-a-a-a-a-deee!’
Spike – dressed in clothes kindly lent by “houseboat man” – turned to the others and said, ‘Hang on a sec. Daughter calling.’ Although still stiff and sore from his dunk in the harbour, he took the stairs two at a time, to haul Rowan and Pooh up into his arms, Rowan clinging to his body like a koala bear to a eucalyptus tree.
‘Tomorrow…’ Polly was saying to Annabelle as she tried to herd them all out of the door. ‘C’mon, you lot. Spike and I haven’t had a moment to ourselves.’
‘Yes, but what about Bam?’ asked Mel, straining over the top of Polly’s shoo-out-you-get-arms.
‘That’s for me and Polly to discuss, big ears,’ said Spike, descending the stairs. ‘I dare say you’ll find out soon enough.’
‘Ill ring you tomorrow,’ Polly said, with a smile as warm and content as if she’d just been out delivering Christmas presents to all and sundry, rather than screaming and wailing as her loved one near drowned. Because, somehow, there was Spike. Rocking that whole manky jeans and moth-eaten sweater combo he’d had donated to him. She couldn’t wait to get him to herself.
‘Now out! Get out, all of you!’ she ordered. Remembering how, when Spike was on the docks, soaking wet, he’d held her face between his hands and said, ‘I love you, Polly Park, and I’m not going to be your One That Got Away. All right?’
As she shut the door, Spike – with Rowan still in his arms – led her through to the sofa, where they all three sat down.
So here they were. Polly and Spike. Alone, save for their child lying beside them – and the one in here , she thought, patting her belly.
She tucked her feet up underneath her as she cosied up next to Spike – with his lovely handsome face, his hair all sticky-up and curled like bedhead hair, those blue eyes framed by thick lashes, that dark hint of stubble spreading across his chin, upper lip and jaw. Those large manly hands, gripping his mug of —
‘Polly?’ He interrupted her thoughts. ‘Will you stop sizing me up like a prize piece of beef?’
‘Hmm?’ She shook her head, telling her hormones to behave. ‘Sorry. Am concentrating now, I promise.’
He pulled her towards him for a deep kiss – not a passionate tongues-and-stuff kiss, but a melting-inside kiss, full of love and the promise of more to come.
Pulling apart, and taking a sip from his chocolate drink, Spike told Polly how, after he left her that day in Devon, the uppermost plan in his mind was to somehow sort things out and to tell Bam that he didn’t love her anymore.
‘So, you don’t love her?’ Polly’s voice barely above a whisper.
‘No, Polly Park. Isn’t that what I’ve been trying to tell you? I might have thought I loved Bam, but it’s you I love – eejit that I am.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘Always have, always will.’
Polly squirmed with delight while in her mind’s eye she was up on her feet, punching the air, going ‘Yesss!’ Back on earth, she waited for what he had to say next. Her Spike. Hers, not Bam’s.
‘Pay attention now, Polly,’ he was saying, ‘and leave off looking at me like that or I’ll have to ravish you right here on the carpet.’
‘What?’ she said, hand on heart in pretend shock. ‘In front of Rowan and Cap’n Jack?’
‘We could blindfold the old fella… and as for Rowan…’ he said, gazing lovingly at his daughter ‘…bless her heart. She’s out for the count.’
Polly snuggled up, enjoying the feel of him through his sweater, the smell of him – oh, she could now admit fully to herself that she adored everything about him. ‘Go on then,’ she said. ‘You’d better tell me the rest.’
And so his story unfolded. How Bam’s parents were pleased as punch to see him at first. How there were plenty of hints about a wedding, and how he’d been alarmed to see given pride of place on the coffee table a stack of bridal magazines. Spike kept trying to find an opportune moment to get Bam alone so he could break the news that they couldn’t be together, but that of course he’d be there for the baby – and for her too – as much as he could, but that his life lay ahead with Polly and Rowan.
‘I suspect she had an inkling,’ he said, ‘because she was doing her darnedest not to have a “talk” with me.’ And, of course, uppermost in his mind was the existence of a baby and how this made it all the more important to have a heart-to-heart about arrangements and whatnot now that Spike was absolutely sure he was returning to Polly. But Bam – ‘Like she had some sixth sense or something’ – managed to head him off each time he tried. Both Spike and Bam were staying at her parents’ house, in separate bedrooms: again, meaning fewer opportunities to be alone. ‘I like her parents, Polly.’
‘Shame you’ll now have to make do with Suze and Brian,’ she said, rather cheekily.
‘C’mon, I love Suze – she’s very… umm… spirited. And Brian, well, he’s grand.’
He didn’t tell Polly how awful it had actually been. The tears and recriminations when he did manage to explain as gently as he could that it was over. Bam’s father throwing him out into the night; trying to find a taxi, a hotel, feeling like a right heel, but deep down knowing it was the right thing to do.
‘Frankly, Polly, I was stunned that she was pregnant. We’d not had sex in weeks.’
Polly threw him an “As if” stare.
‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ he said. ‘Hardly any since that first night I bumped into you outside Mike’s bar and I first learnt about Rowan.’ He rubbed his forehead. ‘Bam insisted she understood. Said I was probably confused, and that things would get back to normal once we returned to Australia. She’s a grand girl, is Bam.’
‘So everyone keeps telling me. You can still pick her over me, you know,’ she said. He gave her arm a pinch. ‘Ow!’
‘Don’t go teasing me at a time like this, Polly.’
She longed to reach out and touch his face, but she’d not heard the whole of his story yet.
‘Before all this, she’d given me an ultimatum,’ he sighed. ‘To choose either her or you. I thought she was nuts. As far as I knew then, there was no choice to be made. You’d made it clear you were happy with Max…’
‘But I wasn’t, not really… I thought you were happy with Bam!’
He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Guess we were both at cross purposes, then.’ He took hold of her hand and lifted it up to his lips. ‘Ah, Polly, you have the hands of a skivvy.’ She tried to pull it away, wishing she had manicured hands, like any sensible person her age. But Spike held on tight, turned it over and kissed her palm. ‘Love this hand.’ He put that one down and picked up the other one. Kissed that on the palm, too. ‘Ah look, a spare one. That’ll come in handy…’
She gave him an ‘oh-ha-ha’ look.
‘This hand’s pretty scrumptious too,’ he said.
Polly placed both her hands firmly in her lap. ‘So? What happened next?’
‘You know what happened, because that was when I started to hope it might be worth my while asking you to consider giving us another go, when the whole thing with your mother happened, and then,’ he gave her a goofy smile, ‘well, then we had our glorious sex.’
‘It was good, wasn’t it?’
‘So-so,’ he said, breaking into a broad grin, which she soon wiped off his face by launching herself at him, to give him a small thump on the chest. ‘Be gentle with a part- drowned man, Polly.’ She then began to tickle him under the arm. ‘Aargh! Stop that right now. Okay. The sex was stupendous. Fabulous. Are you happy now?’
She let go, her hair all dishevelled, both of them laughing. He placed his palm on her flat tummy. Polly’s pale tummy, which would soon grow more and more rounded until her innie became an outie. Absent-mindedly, he began tracing the outline of her belly button with his finger, causing her muscles to contract deliciously.
‘Seriously mind-blowing sex, Polly. I dare say there’ll be plenty more where that came from.’ His stare was downright sizzling… but Polly stopped him by handing over his half-drunk hot chocolate.
‘Come on,’ she insisted. ‘Tell me the rest.’
‘Ah well,’ he said, lying back, letting his head rest on a cushion. She took his now finished cup from him, while he peered at her intensely. ‘Honestly, Poll. Are you sure you’re pregnant? It’s not just a Jammie Dodger belly?’
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she said, in a small voice.
‘Jeez, it’s like being involved in some crazy version of pregnancy musical chairs!’ he said, with an affectionate smile. ‘Isn’t it too early for you to be certain?’
‘I knew the moment I got back from Mum’s.’
He gave her a look.
‘Duh…’ she said. ‘I have been pregnant before, you know.’
‘Ah.’
‘And, before you ask, yes, I did do the test. Did three, as it happens, and they were all positive.’
‘Three, you say? Hope that doesn’t mean we’ll be having triplets.’
‘Idiot!’
They were both silent for a while until Polly half whispered, ‘What if it’s Max’s child?’
He looked her straight in the eye and said, ‘It’s you I want. Makes no mind whose the child it is. This child,’ and he placed his hand on her tummy, ‘will be a part of you, and that’s all that matters. As far as I’m concerned, a child is an added bonus.’
She thought she might burst with happiness.
‘So what happens about Bam? It’s not like you can clone yourself so that one of you can live here with me and our children, and the other can move to Australia with Bam and her child.’
‘No clones needed, Polly.’ He took hold of her hand once more. ‘I’m sad to say that fate intervened, and Bam had a miscarriage.’
A sob caught in Polly’s throat. Okay, a part of her (a really mean part!) was relieved, but the bigger and better part felt desperately sorry, for Bam and for Spike.
‘That’s why I couldn’t properly call to let you know what was happening. Why it took longer than I’d hoped. I couldn’t just up and leave Bam to it, could I? It was deeply sad, and Bam – well, she was devastated. Her parents – as you can imagine – were well pissed off with me,’ he said, looking rueful. ‘I thought her dad was going to punch me.’ He rubbed his knuckles, still sore from where he had punched Max earlier. ‘Maybe it’s what I deserved. But not as much as that Max fella.’
Polly’s mind was still brimful of Bam’s predicament. Yes, she knew she hadn’t warmed to Bam, but that was more to do with her being a rival. Polly suspected had they met under different circumstances, they might well have got on famously.
‘How far along was Bam?’ she had to ask.
Spike sighed. ‘Eight, maybe nine weeks, they think. I was surprised she was pregnant at all because she was on the pill.’
Ah , thought Polly, deciding not to inform Spike how some women can forget to take the pill – accidentally on purpose. Mind you, I’m a fine one to talk, aren’t I , she chided herself. Giving Spike the go-ahead to not use a condom, knowing full well that going by period dates was not reliable. She felt ashamed of thinking such thoughts of Bam. Poor Bam, who’d lost her baby and Spike all in one go.
‘So I couldn’t leave. Not right away. Both Bam and I needed time. The doctor said many babies miscarry before twelve weeks. Guess we were unlucky – or lucky – I don’t really know. I’m still trying to get my head around it. And Bam – well, she was brilliant in the end. Strong. She said that of course I must go.’ He thought of how she’d seen him off with a brave smile, which had made his heart squeeze with sorrow. Yes, he’d been sad for them both, but he was meant to be with Polly. He and Bam wouldn’t have stood a chance.
‘What were you doing in Bath, when Daisy saw you?’
‘Truth? After I left Bam, I went to London first, stayed in Elspeth’s house and sorted things with the sale, and then on to Bath. I’m sorry I kept you waiting, and that I didn’t phone or anything, but I needed time to think things through. If we’re to forge a good life together then I needed to be absolutely sure that I was choosing to stay for you, Polly, and not just for Rowan. That I wanted you, whether or not you were the mother of any of my children. I’m not sure I’ve put that very eloquently, but does that make sense?’
‘Yes,’ she said, as he looked intensely down into her eyes. ‘It makes perfect sense.’
He pulled her towards him so that her head rested on his chest. She could feel his heart go boom-diddy-boom as she breathed in time to his breaths. Her eyelids were heavy, and she closed her eyes.
‘Hey,’ he said, gently giving her a nudge. ‘Don’t you go to sleep on me. I’ve got other things planned for us. Once we get this wee one off to bed,’ he said, nodding at Rowan on his other side. Fast asleep with her mouth open, snuffling away like a little woodland creature.
Spike bent forwards to kiss Polly’s not-there-yet bump. ‘What shall we be having, do you reckon? A boy or a girl?’
‘I don’t mind,’ said Polly.
‘I think a boy next, don’t you? We’ll call him Sonny.’
‘Oh, will we?’
‘Not that I’d say no to another gorgeous little girl. We can always have a boy the baby after that.’
He pulled Polly to her feet.
‘The one after?’ she said.
‘Yes, Polly. I’m thinking four’s a good number. Or how about five?’
‘Five?’
‘Too few? Okay then. Six. Although you’ve probably not got enough child-bearing years left for more than six, eh?’
Polly, being a bit slow on the uptake, didn’t get that he was teasing her until he gave her a slow wink.
‘Oh you!’ she said, attacking him with a cushion.
‘No! Get off! I’m an injured man, remember! Oof! I fought for your honour! Aargh! Get off!’
Rowan, stirring, rubbed her eyes and held her arms out to Spike.
‘I’m starving,’ he said to Polly. ‘What’ve you got to eat?’
‘Erm. Cheese on toast do you?’
‘See that the cooking hasn’t improved in my absence,’ he said, as he rose to carry Rowan up to bed.
*
After placing the cheese and toast under the grill, Polly popped back upstairs to where she joined Spike to stand in Rowan’s doorway, watching her sleep.
‘You know that house in Canynge Crescent, Polly?’ he said.
‘House?’
‘Yes, your all-time favourite house.’ He was smiling his laconic smile at her.
‘But how did you…’
‘I remember everything about you, Polly Park.’ He took her hand, turned her wrist over and kissed her faint scar. ‘Like this scar, which you got from trying to stop a dog eating Mel’s tortoise like it was a Fray Bentos pie.’ Polly felt heady with his scent. He was close to her, lifting his head as if to kiss her – then – BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP shrilled her smoke alarm.
They looked at each other then both shouted, ‘Cheese on toast!’ and charged downstairs to the kitchen, where Polly grabbed the smoking grill pan and dropped it on the floor as she’d forgotten her oven gloves, and burnt her fingers. Spike opened the French doors and windows and flapped at the alarm with a tea towel, until it stopped.
‘Phew,’ he said, holding Polly’s fingers under a running cold tap. ‘Some things never change. Thank goodness.’ He kissed her fingertips. ‘As I was saying, Polly…’
‘Yes?’
‘The house. Your house.’ He took a deep breath as if steeling himself. ‘I’ve bought it.’
‘You what?’
‘Bought it, Polly.’ Her face was a picture of surprise, crossed with even more surprise. ‘The money came through from the sale of Elspeth’s house in Islington. I had no idea they could fetch that much.’ He gave her a sheepish look. ‘I’m hoping it can be our home now, Polly. You, me, Rowan and the little ’un.’
Polly could hardly believe her ears. ‘But how did you know that I’d want you… that I’d want us… to all be together?’
‘I didn’t, Polly. But, sometimes, you just gotta have faith!’
As if they were telepathic, they both burst into a few bars of George Michael’s song “Faith”, and then cracked up laughing.
‘Better than that Will Young one,’ she said – remembering.
‘What on earth are you on about now?’ said Spike. Outside, the night drew in, peeking through her window.
‘Tell you afterwards,’ said Polly, as she pulled him towards her.
Later in bed, they made the slow kind of love that Polly had dreamt of since returning from Devon. Not just sex – but love. Making – making – love. Polly was singing “All You Need is Love” in her head, complete with brass section.
‘Polly?’ said Spike, stopping to gaze down at her.
She opened her eyes, all languorous and dreamy. ‘Mmm?’
‘You’re humming again, Polly.’
‘Hmm?’
‘Humming, Polly, humming,’ he was saying, whispering into her neck. ‘So, shall we be getting married, now, Polly?’
‘I don’t know. Marriage is such an outmoded institution.’
‘Ah, there ya go again with that Renaissance Woman thing.’
She couldn’t help smiling in the dark. ‘I think we ought to do a Helena Bonham Carter/Tim Burton thing, don’t you?’
‘I can’t afford to buy the house next door, Polly.’
She nuzzled into his shoulder.
‘Just so long as you don’t make me wear a monkey suit like in that there Planet of the Apes !’ he added. ‘Mind you, I think a monkey costume might suit you.’
‘Oh, very funny!’
‘Hey, Polly,’ he said, gazing down at her. ‘Are you crying?’
‘Shut up.’ She kissed him and he kissed her as they coiled around each other, entwined and as undulating as fronds of kelp pulled by the rhythms of tides and oceans.