‘Is it?’
‘You should never stop learning, Arch,’ he said. ‘No matter how old you get.’
‘You mean I have to go to school forever?’
‘Not school school,’ Jago said.
‘Oh, phew!’
‘But you must always push yourself and learn new things.’
‘I don’t mind that if it’s cool things like football and the guitar.’
‘Good.’ Jago turned to look at Polly, ‘I went to see Bryony this morning.’
‘Oh?’
‘We’re heading out together on Friday.’
‘That’s great,’ Polly said, swallowing hard.
‘She seems nice.’
‘She is,’ Polly said, ‘although I may be biased.’
‘I think we’ll have a good time.’
Archie was watching the two of them. ‘Is he talking about Aunt Bryony?’
‘Yes,’ Polly said.
‘She is nice,’ Archie confirmed, nodding his head.
‘I agree,’ Jago said.
Polly cleared her throat, suddenly feeling awkward.
‘Hey,’ Jago said, ‘I’ve had a cancellation tonight if you want me to come over.’
‘Can he, Mum?’ Archie asked.
‘Haven’t you got an awful lot of homework, Archie? Mrs Brancaster always sets you loads on a Monday.’
‘I can get it done,’ he said, a huge grin on his face.
‘Well, if you’re sure.’
Archie nodded enthusiastically.
‘And if you’re sure, Jago,’ she said.
‘Sure I’m sure,’ he said.
‘He’s sure, Mum.’
Polly shrugged. ‘Okay then.’
‘Brilliant!’ Archie said.
‘Run on inside, Archie. It’s cold out here.’ Polly gave him the house key.
‘See you later, Jago.’
‘Will do.’
Polly waited until her son was inside before she turned to Jago again. ‘Are you really sure you want to spend your free time teaching Archie the guitar when we can’t pay you?’
‘I’ve told you – it’s not about the money.’
‘I know,’ she said, ‘but I can’t help feeling bad about not paying you.’
‘Please don’t. I really like it and–’
‘Why don’t you stay for tea?’ Polly blurted, the idea suddenly coming to her. ‘It would make me feel better about not paying you.’
‘Really?’
She nodded.
‘Okay, great. How would six o’clock suit you?’
‘Fine,’ she said.
‘I’ll see you later, then.’
She watched as he put his helmet back on and drove his bike the short distance to his home, waving as he arrived. She waved back.
Promptly at six, Jago arrived holding two guitars. Archie, who’d been hanging around the kitchen and getting under Polly’s feet, tore to open the door, crying, ‘He’s here!’
She pretty much left the two of them to it, returning to the kitchen where she made a start on tea. It was a nice habit to get into, she thought, preparing tea for three again. She’d missed that and, for months after Sean’s disappearance, she had cooked far more food than she and Archie could manage on their own. It had been a hard habit to break. Now, as she looked at the pasta boiling in the pan, she worried that she’d not done enough. Maybe she should cook an extra pepper and onion, just to be on the safe side.
When the lesson was finished, Archie ran into the kitchen.
‘Slow down!’ Polly warned him. Her son seemed to do a lot of running when Jago was around.
‘Did you hear me?’ he asked. ‘Did you hear what I played?’
‘It was very nice,’ Polly said, having been half-aware of the strumming from the living room as she’d stood at the cooker.
‘I’m getting better, aren’t I?’ Archie said.
‘Of course,’ Jago said as he entered the kitchen. ‘You’re learning something new with each lesson.’
Polly turned and smiled at him. ‘Have a seat.’
‘Thanks,’ he said as Polly served the food.
‘I hope pasta’s okay?’
‘It looks great.’
‘I want twice as much to eat, Mum,’ Archie announced.
‘Why?’ Polly asked.
‘Because I want to be as big as Jago when I grow up.’
Polly smiled and Jago laughed.
‘I’ll make sure you’re well-fed,’ Polly said. ‘Don’t worry about that.’
They ate in silence for a few moments, but Polly was aware that Archie was watching Jago’s every move. How he must miss having a father, she thought, feeling awful that life had thrown her young boy such a cruel curveball. But then she wondered if Archie would give admiring looks to his own father if he was here. Sean had been – what was the word – reserved. He had never been the kind of father to laugh and joke around with his son. His role had been more of a disciplinarian if she was honest. He’d shown Archie the boundaries, taught him things, monitored his behaviour, that sort of thing. But she couldn’t actually remember her husband and son just playing together. Of course, Archie had been so young at the time and maybe their relationship would have changed. It was impossible to know now.
‘You look thoughtful,’ Jago said.
‘Do I?’ She looked up, a little startled at being caught. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘Mum thinks a lot,’ Archie said, surprising her.
‘Do I?’
Archie nodded. ‘You’re always looking out of windows or staring into nothing.’
‘No I’m not,’ she said, genuinely shocked at her son’s observation and quite determined to quash it.
‘She is,’ Archie told Jago. ‘I think she misses Dad.’
Polly swallowed hard. ‘Eat your tea, Archie,’ she said. ‘You’ll never get as big as Jago if you spend mealtimes talking.’
He looked up at her and there was something mutinous in his expression. Polly held her breath, willing him not to say anything more and, thankfully, he didn’t.
‘Well, that was great,’ Jago said a few minutes later as he finished his plate of pasta.
‘Don’t go,’ Archie said as Jago made to leave the table.
‘I can’t bother you all evening,’ he said.
‘Why not? We never do anything.’
‘Archie!’ Polly said, a blush colouring her face.
Jago laughed. ‘I’m sure your mum’s got plenty to do without me hanging around.’ He looked at her as if for confirmation.
‘She hasn’t,’ Archie said. ‘She’ll just stick her head in a book or something boring.’
‘Archie Prior – you are being very cheeky this evening!’
‘But it’s true!’
‘Whether something’s true or not doesn’t mean you go and blurt it to some stranger.’
‘But Jago’s not a stranger,’ Archie said.
‘Sorry,’ Polly said, ‘I didn’t mean any offence.’
‘None taken,’ Jago said.
‘Well, maybe you’d like to stay for a cup of tea?’ Polly said.
‘Make him a cup of tea, Mum,’ Archie said. ‘We’ll be in the living room.’
Polly watched in amazement as Archie grabbed hold of Jago’s hand and led him out of the kitchen. There was nothing else to do but to make the tea and go and join them.
‘Hope you don’t mind,’ Jago said as Polly entered the room with the tea and saw him looking through her and Sean’s CD collection. ‘I’m always fascinated to see what music people listen too.’
‘Oh, they’re mostly Sean’s,’ she said. ‘We don’t really listen to many of them.’
‘No?’
She shook her head.
‘But there’s some pretty good stuff in here.’
‘Is there?’ she asked, watching as he pulled a CD from the rack and held it out to her. ‘I don’t know that one.’
‘It’s Shostakovich,’ he said.
‘Right.’
‘That’s right,’ she told him.
‘Well, we’ll have to remedy that.’ He looked around the room for a CD player.
‘It’s upstairs,’ Polly told him. ‘As I said, we don’t listen to much music.’
‘But Archie’s got to listen to music if he’s expected to play it,’ Jago said.
‘Oh, he listens to his own thing in his room,’ Polly said.
‘But not classical, I’m betting?’
‘Not for a while. Not since Sean–’
‘Dad used to play that sort of music really loud,’ Archie said. ‘It used to scare me.’
Polly caught Jago’s eye. ‘So we don’t really play it anymore.’
He nodded. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but will you let me play this for you now?’
Polly took the CD from him and looked at it. It seemed harmless enough. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll get the player.’
A few moments later, CD player plugged in, Jago popped the disc inside.
‘This is called Waltz Number 2,’ Jago announced as he hit the play button and the strange, rich music filled the room.
Polly could feel Jago’s eyes upon her as she listened to the piece for the first time. She, in turn, looked at Archie who was looking back at Jago as if for guidance. It was as if the young boy wasn’t going to make his mind up about the Russian noise until Jago said something first.
When the piece ended, Jago cleared his throat. ‘Well, that wasn’t really loud enough.’
‘What do you mean?’ Archie asked.
‘You need to listen to it really loud so you can pick up all the instruments when they come in. Okay with you? I promise it won’t be scary, Arch.’
Archie nodded and Polly gave her consent too and Jago replayed the track.
At first, the music was gentle with strings and a horn playing softly together. Then percussion came in, then more strings joined, creating a louder sound.
‘We’ll have Mrs Letchworth next door banging on the wall!’ Polly warned.
‘So let her bang!’ Jago said, cranking up the volume even louder.
Polly laughed and Archie joined in.
‘What’s it like, Arch?’ Jago asked. ‘Go on – tell me!’
The music swelled and Polly found that she was rocking side to side as if she were about to waltz right across the room.
‘Polly?’ Jago said. ‘How’s it making you feel?’
‘I feel like I’m dancing and flying at the same time!’
Archie laughed and Polly took her son’s hands in hers and the two of them were actually dancing right there in the front room, tripping over Archie’s toys and knocking into the book cases.
Dickens, who’d been sleeping in the kitchen, came in to see what all the fuss was about and started to bark, leaping around the room after the two of them as if he’d been injected with helium.
‘It’s the kind of music that makes you want to run across an enormous field, leaping over streams and kicking dandelion clocks, isn’t it?’ Jago said. ‘How’s it make you feel, Arch?’ he tried again.
‘It makes me want to kick a football really, really HARD!’ Archie shouted above the music.
They all laughed and then, at last, the music came to an end with a final flourish of beautiful sound, and the three of them stood grinning at each other. Polly was the first to speak, her cheeks flushed.
‘I can’t believe I’ve never heard that before,’ she said.
‘And you won’t be able to unhear it now,’ Jago said. ‘It’s rather like reading a book. Once you’ve read it, you can’t believe there was a time in your life when it didn’t exist.’
Polly gazed at him, her heart still racing from her little waltz around the living room. ‘That’s a very astute thing to say.’
‘Well, don’t look so surprised,’ he said. ‘I can be astute, you know.’
She smiled at him.
‘What does astute mean?’ Archie asked.
‘It means smart,’ Polly said.
‘Your mum thinks I’m smart,’ Jago said, ruffling Archie’s hair.
‘Of course you are,’ Archie said.
Jago laughed. ‘You see – I wanted to show you both the magic of music. It can exalt us and energise us. It can give us a whole world of emotions from just a few notes. Not bad for less than four minutes worth of music, is it? It always amazes me how music can evoke so many different emotions all at once. So you’ve always got to play it. Every day if you can, okay?’
‘Okay,’ Polly said. ‘We will, won’t we, Arch?’
Archie nodded enthusiastically.
‘Listen, I’d better get back,’ Jago said, checking his watch. ‘I don’t want you to think I still have to report in to my mum, but–’
‘She doesn’t want us hogging you all evening,’ Polly said. ‘I’ll walk you out.’
‘You really liked the Shostakovich?’ he asked her.
‘I loved it! It was romantic and melancholic at the same time and ... so full of energy!’
They’d reached the front door and Polly hesitated.
‘I really enjoyed this evening,’ he said.
‘Me too.’ Polly’s hand hovered for a moment before she opened the door into the cold night. ‘Perhaps you can introduce us to another composer next time.’
‘I’d like that,’ he said.
‘Continue my education. I mean Archie’s education.’ She smiled. ‘Our education.’
‘I’ll bring some of my own CDs over.’
‘Okay.’
They stood looking at each other, an awkward silence hanging between them.
‘Have a good night with Bryony.’
Jago nodded. ‘I’ll see you at the weekend, okay?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Night, Polly,’ he said, his voice warm and gentle as he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and hunched his shoulders against the bitter cold.
She watched as he crossed the green to his house and then she shut and locked the front door, walking through to the living room which still seemed to hum with the music that had filled it that evening.
Archie was sitting on the sofa stroking Dickens’s long ears. The spaniel really shouldn’t have been up on the sofa, but Polly barely noticed.
‘You know, I really like Jago,’ Archie said.
‘I know you do,’ Polly said, sitting down next to him.
‘Do you, Mum?’
Polly didn’t answer for a moment. Her mind was racing over the evening that had just happened – the fun they’d had, the moments they’d shared. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much pure fun.
‘Yes,’ she said at last. ‘I like Jago. I like him a lot.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was funny to pull up to Church Green and not be calling in on her sister, Bryony thought, as she reached number 7. She wondered if she should call in at Polly’s first – just to touch base before her date with Jago but, after taking so long choosing her outfit and the struggle she’d had trying to tame her hair, she really didn’t have time.
She pulled her handbag across from the passenger seat and found her compact inside, checking her appearance and powdering her nose. She’d worn her hair loose and it waved down over her shoulders in its curly, unruly way. She’d picked out one of her favourite dresses – a midnight blue velvet one – and had teamed it with a burgundy jacket which was smothered in tiny violets. Then there were her boots which she’d agonised over, finally settling on a knee-high, lace-up pair with a modest heel. One couldn’t be too careful when there was ice around.
Tooting her car horn, she waited for a moment, wondering if she should actually get out and ring the bell, but Jago had texted her and told her to just honk the horn. Sure enough, a minute later, his tall figure emerged from the door of number 7, guitar case in hand and a slither of light from the hallway behind revealing his long trench coat, giving him the look of a hero from an historical rom
ance. Bryony swallowed hard.
‘Hey,’ he said as he opened the car door.
‘Hey yourself,’ Bryony said and then grimaced at how that sounded.
‘You look nice,’ he said as he popped the guitar in the back and bent to get into the passenger seat.
‘Thanks. You do too.’
‘Know where we’re going?’
‘I think so,’ she said and she started the engine and headed out into the dark Suffolk countryside.
‘I saw Polly and Archie again this week,’ he said as they drove through a village where the church windows were lit up, turning it into a lantern.
‘How’s Archie’s guitar lessons going?’
‘Really good. He loves to learn.’
‘He does. I love choosing books for him. He’s always so excited. Not all kids are, I’m afraid.’
‘No?’
Bryony shook her head. ‘Just today, I had a mother come into the shop and she practically had to drag her daughter in. I have never seen such a miserable face on a kid before. It was quite disturbing actually. And she didn’t even cheer up when I showed her the latest Lucy Lamont book. Now that’s a problem child!’
Jago laughed. ‘Oh, dear.’
‘I really tried my best with her, but that kid wasn’t giving an inch. But Archie – now Archie always has a smile for me, and I don’t think that’s because I’m his aunt and he knows he’s in for a freebie or two.’
‘No, you’re right,’ Jago said. ‘Archie’s one of life’s happy souls, isn’t he?’
Bryony smiled. ‘He’s a special boy. Polly adores him.’
‘Of course.’
‘He’s the centre of her world now. You know about Sean, don’t you?’
‘Little bits,’ Jago said.
‘Nobody knows what really happened,’ Bryony said. ‘It’s awful. How Polly gets through it, I don’t know.’
‘Having Archie and the rest of her family must help. You’re all pretty close, aren’t you?’
Bryony nodded. ‘We poke into each others’ business on a regular basis,’ she said with a grin. ‘Do you have family?’
‘Not really. It’s just me and Mum.’
‘Oh,’ Bryony said.
‘It’s fine. It’s what I’m used to.’
‘Did you ever know your father?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ he said in the sort of world-weary voice that instantly warned Bryony that that particular subject might be painful. ‘He – he wasn’t a good man.’
Rules for a Successful Book Club (The Book Lovers 2) Page 11
