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‘Social work. I want to help kids,’ said Will, his voice whispery because he half-expected his dad to suddenly manifest in the room and say, ‘You must be bloody daft.’
‘Then why aren’t you doing it?’
‘I’d have to get a degree first. Is it too late to start when everyone else my age is graduating?’
‘You’re only twenty-one, Will. Even people older than me decide to go to university.’
He opened his mouth to tell her something, then pulled it back, but Polly reached over and shook his arm.
‘Say what you were going to,’ she insisted.
‘Okay… I applied at Bournemouth for a place and I got in.’
‘Then do it, Will,’ said Polly. If ever someone was suited to a career helping kids in need, it was this caring boy.
‘Dad would say I’m going backwards.’
‘You wouldn’t be going backwards; you’re preparing for a running jump. Am I convincing you?’
Will smiled. ‘I want to be convinced. Living by the seaside would be nice, wouldn’t it?’
Polly remembered the hush of the sea and the gently foaming waves, the warm sand, the fresh salt-air in her lungs, the seagulls wheeling above her head.
‘Yes, darling Will, it really is.’
Will swallowed a lump of emotion caught in his throat. He wished Polly could have been his real parent. He thought more of her than he did his own combined. And he owed her.
‘Polly…’ He had to say something, he had to tell her how it had been before she left and why he thought she had packed up to go.
But this was his dad. And Will really wanted him to step up and make his relationship work. Polly was the best thingthat had ever happened to him. He didn’t want his dad to lose her again.Willdidn’t want to lose her again.
‘I… I know that Dad is glad you’re back. He’s not great at showing his feelings.’
‘Thank you for that, Will,’ she said. And she placed her hand on his cheek and he felt really shit then that he’d chickened out from telling her how bad it had really got.
Chapter 53
Polly walked into her old department on Monday morning with a sped-up heart rhythm and strides powered by anxiety. She could recall that the last time she’d seen Jeremy they’d had some sort of altercation, presumably the ‘misunderstanding’ that he’d referred to in his letter. The jigsaw puzzle of her mind was mostly completed but there remained plenty of missing patches where the detail wouldn’t materialise, and this was one of them.
Familiar faces in the department turned to say hello, or give a smile as she headed for her desk. The drawers were empty, as was the top apart from a PC and a keyboard, as if she were coming to it for the first time. There was no desk next to it as she remembered there used to be, where Sheridan sat and they’d throw things to each other over the divide: sweets, tissues, biscuits. She’d sent a teddy bear to her for the baby and a note to say she was sorry she hadn’t been in touch but she hoped to see her soon, which was true, because Sheridan’s friendly face would be like a medicine to her.
‘Hello Polly.’ She turned, hearing the voice behind her, to find the tall, lean, mean figure of Jeremy Watson. ‘Beforeyou get yourself re-established in the department, could I have a quick word in private?’
‘Certainly.’
She followed him to his office and as he sat down in his huge swivelly chair she remembered the large portrait of Alan that used to hang on the wall before this strange, pointy one of Jeremy.
‘Please sit.’ Jeremy smiled and gestured towards the chair at the other side of the table.
‘How are you?’ he asked, tilting his head at a concerned angle.
‘I’m fine, thank you.’
‘Good, good. I didn’t want there to be any awkwardness between us. I think now we’ve both had a little time to reflect, setting out on a new footing is what should happen. I’m’ – a huge deep breath needed for the next words, which were forced out of him under obvious duress – ‘very sorry if you ever felt you were being sidelined or overlooked. I think with the new BS name above the door, what remains of the old Northern Eagles history should be buried with it. Onwards and upwards, don’t you agree?’
‘I do,’ replied Polly.
‘Good, good.’ His obligatory apology was expended and it had been easy enough, though meek and mild Polly wouldn’t exactly have had the front to make it difficult; now they could get down to business as usual. ‘Not sure what Marjorie told you. We lost Auntie Marian’s Bread. We could never have made them into the next Warburtons, Peach just wasn’t prepared to listen and we do need some pliancy to work with. But we do have other companies ready for you to cast your spell on.’ He nudged forward a stack of files that sat on his desk.
