Читать книгу Polly - Freya North - Страница 11

‘Kate, please may I use the phone?’ asked Polly.

‘Sure,’ said Kate and, disconcerted by Polly’s sludge-green eyes, she placed a wand of raw spaghetti between the pages of her book and discreetly left the kitchen as if she had been just about to anyway.

‘Hullo?’

‘Dom?’

‘Hullo, Pollygirl – how are you? How’s it going? What am I saying! Hold on. Max? Max! Quick! I’ll pass you over. You take care, Miss Fenton – them yankies can be wankies. Max? Max! He’s in the frigging bath, Polly. Would you believe it? Call back in five mins, yes?’

‘’Kay.’

‘Hullo?’

‘Meg?’

‘Po-lly!’

The women shrieked at each other nonsensically down the phone for a moment.

‘Max is in the bath.’

‘So I’m your second choice – charming!’

‘Dear Miss Reilly,’ soothed Polly, knowing Megan meant no mischief, ‘I’ve just finished my first full day. It’s the first chance I’ve had to use the phone. I can’t be too long – just give Max enough time to dry.’

‘How are you, girl? What’s it like?’ asked Megan while she located Polly on the school photograph and stroked her with her little finger. ‘Is it incredible? Have you met Tom Cruise yet?’

‘Yes,’ said Polly, ‘and no.’

‘Anyone who looks remotely like him? Brad Pitt, at a scrape?’

‘No,’ said Polly, ‘and no. Or not that I’ve met so far, I’m afraid. There might be, but I’m jet lagged beyond belief. Do you know, this place, Meg, is so, so beautiful. There’s so much space for the children – in class and out. Guess how many I have in a class?’

‘Can’t! Tell!’

‘No. More. Than. Twelve.’

‘Jee—’

‘And they’re all impeccably behaved. They’re even quiet before class!’

‘—zus. No wonder That Carter Woman looks so shell-shocked.’

‘Everything OK?’

‘If you call Upper Four OK.’

‘Say no more. What was for lunch today?’

‘Lunch? Pie and mash, or mashed ratatouille and mash. And some clumpy pink mash for pud.’

‘Do you know what I had? Ask me!’

‘I say, Miss Fenton, what did you have for lunch?’

‘I had Caesar Salad with a selection of cold cuts and a freshly baked roll.’

‘Stop, stop – that’s just not on.’

‘Well, I could have had vegetable burritos, if that makes you feel any better.’

‘No it bloody doesn’t.’

‘Or there again, chicken papardelle with tarragon cream. The Federal Government subsidizes the food while making guidelines about fat content and protein quotas.’

‘I’m weeping.’

‘That’s not all, Meg. There were four different types of coffee to choose from, and as many teas. And that’s not counting the decaffeinated or detanninized strains! All fresh, I hasten to add, and free. No plasticated liquid from vending machines here. And, do you know, we have those fantastic swirly machines with fresh juice churning around available to us. All. Day. Long.’

‘I’m over there!’

‘No you’re not,’ said Polly quietly, ‘you’re over there – over the sea and far, far away. I better go, Max’ll be waiting. Will you write?’

‘I have done already. Posted it at lunch-time,’ Megan paused and continued forlornly, ‘when I went to the newsagent for a chocolate fest in lieu of lousy lunch.’

‘Polly? Polly? You there? That you?’

Speak some more. Let me listen.

‘Polly?’

‘Oh, Max.’

They hung on to their respective receivers with eyes closed and hearts bursting. They could hear each other breathe. How fantastic.

‘I couldn’t phone till now,’ Polly explained, ‘I’ve had every minute organized.’

‘I know,’ Max soothed, ‘I’m sure. I imagined. What’s it like? School and where you’re staying?’

‘Lovely – everywhere and everyone. So friendly and welcoming. The school is magnificent and the children are a dream – only I hope I don’t wake up. I just talked shop with Megan so she’ll fill you in, if you like. How’s Buster?’

‘Fine, I presume – I haven’t heard anything to the contrary.’

‘Will you phone The Jen Carter Person and just double-check everything’s OK at the flat?’

‘’Course I will. Can I have your number there? Thanks.’

‘God, you sound so close it’s cruel.’

‘You in your pyjamas, Polly?’

‘No, silly, it’s only six o’clock here. In fact, I’m in a frock because it’s something called Formal Meal tonight.’

‘Which knickers are you wearing?’

‘Hold on a – let me check. The pair with the blue roses.’

‘Divine.’

‘Funny fellow.’

‘I miss you madly, Polly.’

Oh my God, I haven’t actively missed you yet Max, because I haven’t actually had time to. That’s terrible of me.

‘Polly? You there? I was saying how I miss you.’

‘Do you?’ she said sweetly.

‘I do,’ Max confirmed softly, not registering Polly’s pause.

‘Oh dear! Do you know, I haven’t said “I do” to you yet, have I!’

‘No, actually, not in so many words. Do you still have your ring?’

‘Maximilian, would I mislay something as precious as that?’

I must take it from the back pocket of my jeans and put it somewhere safe.

‘You’d better go, Polly. Better not take advantage of your hosts.’

‘’Kay. Will you phone soon? Will you phone on Saturday?’

‘Absolutely. Night night.’

‘Night.’

Polly walked slowly to her room. She went to her jeans and slipped her hand into the back pockets. And then those at the front. She fell to her knees and walked a methodical circle with her hands around the chair over which her jeans lay. She looked under the bed. And in the bin. And in the pockets of her other jeans. And in her jacket pocket. She looked behind the bedside table. She went to the bathroom and searched through her toilet bag. She went back to the bedroom, bit her nails and her lip and muffled a strangled yelp by hurling herself on to the bed. Burying her face into the pillows she sobbed. She bit, she hit them. She cursed herself. She stabbed at the bed with her fist. She cursed Great Aunt Clara. She swore profusely. She all but wore herself out. Finally, she sat cross-legged on the bed, snorting through a heavy nose and rubbing hard at itching eyes.

I can’t have lost it!

It seems you have.

I haven’t even said yes, yet, I haven’t said ‘I do’.

It seems you haven’t.

Max, who’s been at the centre of my world, is offering me lifelong security, he’s going to provide me with my own family at last. And I haven’t even bloody accepted his offer. I can’t tell anyone I’m engaged unless I’ve formally agreed to be. I can’t tell people unless I have a ring to show them. As proof. And I can’t tell Max that I’ll marry him if I have to tell him that I’ve lost his ring.

You haven’t even told Megan yet, either, have you? Wonder why. No time to think on it now. Wash your face and make haste for Formal Meal.

‘Jennifer Carter speaking.’

‘Oh, um, hullo, er, my name’s Max Fyfield – I’m, er, Polly’s—’

‘Sure! Max, hi there, nice to speak to you.’

‘I just thought I’d give you a bell to see if you’ve settled in OK? All all right with the flat?’

‘Everything’s cool here, thanks. Your Polly’s left me these little notes every place. Feel like I know her.’

‘And Buster? He’s OK? Not terrorizing you? Just roar at him if he is – and ignore him if he replies.’

‘Buster’s adorable. He’s on my lap right now.’

‘Ah, super. Polly will be pleased. Have you met Megan Reilly yet?’

‘Sure, she’s shown me round the school and has been real sweet.’

God, how Megan’ll cringe if she ever hears such terminology!

‘Great, great. And how was school? Those girls can be a handful. An excess of intelligence and money, I fear.’

‘I think,’ said Jen, ‘that we have arrived at an understanding.’

‘Good, good,’ stumbled Max, ‘well, I just phoned to see that everything’s tickety boo.’

‘What’s that? Tickety boo? Ha!’

‘Yes, ha! I’m glad you seem to have settled. Do call if you need anything.’

‘Sure. Many thanks, Max.’

‘Bye then.’

‘Bye now.’

Jen heaved Buster so that he stood on his hind legs on her lap.

‘All I need,’ she told him, ‘to make my picture perfect, is one Chip Jonson.’