by Penny Kane
“That bad, huh?”
Polly shook her head. “You have no idea. If I stop to think about what’s going on in my life right now, I’ll break down.” She pointed to the window. “And then I have to deal with jerks stealing my parking space.”
Jackie smiled at her as she told her what had happened. As Polly tucked in to her slice of cake, she told Jackie about the first house viewing she’d had that morning.
“How is that possible? How can you have a house with no natural light?” Jackie laughed.
“I have no idea! Take a look outside, Jackie – it’s a glorious day and yet not one ray of sunshine seemed to penetrate the interior of the place.”
Jackie shook her head at her.
“It made me feel so bad.”
“Maybe there’s a book in there somewhere.”
Polly felt Jackie had steered the conversation to the topic she wanted to know about.
“Speaking of writing, are you planning anything?”
Yep! “I have a few ideas.”
“Anything written down?”
“Some.”
Jackie shook her head. “Come on, Polly. We have to get another book out before you’re no longer hot and the readers drift off to the next big thing.”
Polly splayed her hands. “I know, I know.” She sighed again. “It’s just there’s so much going on in my life that writing really is the last thing I’m motivated to do right now.”
“I know, but it’s your job.”
Polly nodded. “Good point. I’ll try and get some notes down and perhaps begin a few chapters on holiday.”
“You do that. When do you leave?”
“Next Saturday.”
“So soon?”
Polly smiled. “Yes. So, now I have to make a decision on the other house I saw today.”
Jackie raised an eyebrow at her. “Do tell. I didn’t realise there was one you actually liked enough to contemplate buying.”
Polly grinned and told Jackie all about the bungalow and its irritating canine neighbour.
By the time Polly finished her description of the place, Jackie was laughing at her. “What? What are you laughing at?”
“Are you winding me up?” she asked.
“No. Why would I?”
“You’re planning on buying a fixer-upper?”
Polly nodded. “It’s really kitsch and I like it.”
Jackie shook her head. “No, you’re doing this to wind me up.”
Polly was confused at Jackie’s reaction. “Seriously, Jackie, what are you talking about?”
Jackie dug into her bag and produced a tatty version of Polly’s book, which she slapped onto the table. “You insisted to me last time we spoke that your life was beginning to imitate your book, right?”
“Yeah, it’s a bit weird.” Realisation started to dawn in Polly’s eyes.
“Well…” Jackie stared at her. “…Sally bought a house to fix up after she split from her husband, Pete. Isn’t that what you’re about to do, Poll?”
Polly paled. “Oh God, I hadn’t realised that.”
Jackie smirked at her.
“Seriously, Jackie, I’m not making this up. I really like that place. If I can get the dog to shut up, then I might buy it. I have to go somewhere; my place is for sale.”
“There is another alternative.”
“What’s that?”
“You make Steve pay the mortgage on the house you live in now. It’d serve the bastard right.”
Polly shook her head. “No. I’d be beholden to him forever. What if he missed a payment?” She sipped her coffee. “No, I’d rather have a home of my own and cut Steve out of my life as much as possible.”
Jackie shrugged. “It was just a suggestion.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it, but it’s not for me.” She chewed her lip. “Jackie, what if my life really is mimicking my book?”
“Firstly, that’s impossible. It’s just uncanny. Secondly, if by some strange chance it is true, isn’t there a Greek hunk in Chapter Seven?”
Polly laughed. “So there is!”
Chapter Nine
Polly was sitting at the dining table scribbling notes onto a post-it pad and sticking them into the first few pages of her book when Brendan came home.
“What are you doing, Mum?”
“Making notes. What does it look like?” came her wry reply. She looked up at him and smiled. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too.” Brendan kissed her on the cheek. “So…” He continued as he sat down next to her. “…what are you doing?”
“You’ll laugh at me.”
“Don’t I usually do that?” He grinned.
Polly smiled at him. “Well, yes, but…this is something that’ll have you thinking that your ole mum has gone round the bend.”
Brendan smirked at her.
“Yeah, you think that already.” She took a deep breath. “Ok, here goes. Ever since I came home from the book tour, my entire life seems to be echoing my book.”
“Don’t be daft, Mum.”
“Listen, Bren, I’m serious. I am writing notes. I want to remember what’s going to happen next.”
“It’s your book, don’t you remember?”
“I wrote it nearly a year and a half ago now. The old grey matter isn’t quite what it used to be.” She giggled. “Besides, if this is true, then how do I know when it’s going to end?”
“When the book ends, surely?”
“I hope so.”
Brendan smiled. “And what if you write another book?”
“Well, I’ve got a few ideas for the next one. I might make it a series…” Polly stopped in mid-sentence as she realised what Brendan meant. “Oh no! I can’t be that unlucky, can I?”
Brendan shook his head at her. “Mum, there’s no such thing as magic. It’s just a fluke that your life seems to be imitating your book. Perhaps it’s all in your head, but it certainly isn’t magic, bad luck or some evil spirit out to play games with you.”
She gave him a cynical look.
“Mum, I reckon deep down you suspected these things would happen and they did. It’s nothing to freak out over.”
“I’m not freaking out, Bren.”
“Then why are you making notes?”
“Because…” She couldn’t answer him. Whatever she said, she’d sound silly and perhaps neurotic. “You’re right. I must have seen the signs and wrote about it.”
“I read once that writers put bits of their souls into their work. I bet that’s all it is.” He stood. “Now, I need a shower, then I’ll order a pizza. Will you be all right?”
Polly nodded at him and watched him leave the room. He might have been right, but she doubted it. How did she explain the maid incident? How was that in her subconscious? She decided to finish her notes as quickly as she could before Brendan got out of the shower. Then she’d tell him about the house she went to see. Perhaps they’d even take a drive out to see it.
* * * *
Polly was pleased that Brendan was interested in seeing the bungalow she wanted to buy. She explained all about its time-warp state and about the dog next door, too. He didn’t look too impressed, but she didn’t care. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted that place and felt it was right for her. Polly even started making mental plans for updating and improving it. She shared her thoughts with Brendan and she hoped that he could see the place’s potential, too.
“You’re really taken with this place, aren’t you, Mum?”
“Yes, I am. It’s on a country lane. There are no neighbours in front or behind.” She spread her arms out as they walked around the outside of the property.
“And it’s close to the beach.” Brendan stopped and scratched his head. “So why is it so cheap, then?”
Polly grimaced. “Ah. That is what I want your advice on.” She turned and led him towards the fence on the left side of the property. She’d deliberately taken him around the right in hopes that the dog would not notice t
hem and start barking before she’d had a chance to sell him the idea of the house and its potential. They’d looked in all the windows on the right side and she knew that going round to the left could no longer be avoided. He had to know the single drawback and, in her opinion, the deal breaker. As they drew closer to the neighbour’s house, the huge dog started its incessant barking.
“Oh.”
“Exactly.”
He shook his head. “Mum, you can’t live next door to that. No one could.” He closed his eyes. “That’s why it’s so cheap.”
“Surely there’s something that can be done about it, Bren.”
“Yeah, I’m sure there is. It’s a nuisance, but you have to ask yourself if you’re prepared for the hassle of getting the authorities involved.”
She nodded at him. He had a point.
“And not to mention the fact that the neighbours may never speak to you after you’ve silenced their dog.”
“Don’t put it that way! I don’t want it put down!”
“No, but he’d have to be muzzled and they’d certainly resent that, Mum.”
“I know. But this house is perfect. You know how desirable this area is.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
“So, will you help me?” She looked pleadingly at him. She was acting desperate, she knew, but she couldn’t live there if the dog situation was not sorted out.
He smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” She hugged him.
“Mum, not in public.” Brendan reddened. “Remember what happened at Clooney’s!”
Polly laughed at him and they made their way back to the car.
“You know, I wonder if this could be sorted really easily.”
“What do you mean?” Polly asked as she put the key in the ignition.
“If the agent wrote to the owners saying they cannot sell the house because of the dog and may have to seek legal recourse, that might be enough.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe.” He winked at her.
“Let’s hope so.”
* * * *
Polly and Brendan dined on pizza that evening and chatted happily about Polly’s upcoming holiday before deciding on a DVD to watch.
Unfortunately, Polly just couldn’t get into the film. When her mobile phone rang, it came as somewhat of a relief, until she saw who was calling. Polly swore under her breath and slipped out of the room after telling Brendan to carry on without her.
She looked down at the phone in her hand as she entered the kitchen. The name flashing up on the display made her stomach knot. It was Kate.
Reluctantly, Polly flipped the phone open and answered the call. She knew this conversation had to happen sometime or other. “Hello?”
“Polly, it’s me.”
“Me who?”
“Kate. It’s Kate.” She paused. “Did you delete my number?”
“Yes.” Polly lied, but Kate wasn’t to know that. She thought she ought to have deleted it, and shouldn’t have answered the phone either, but she had. “What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“Isn’t it too late for that, Kate?”
“Does it have to be?”
Polly paused in disbelief. “What? You want me to be ok with the fact that you stole my husband and are having his child? Is that what you expect?”
Kate was silent.
“Well?”
“I don’t know what I expected. You’re my best friend, Polly.”
Polly swore under her breath. “Then I’d bloody hate to see how you treat your enemies, Kate.”
Kate fell silent again.
“So, again, what do you want?”
“To see how you are. I thought we could meet up to clear the air. I miss you.” Kate started to cry. “Please forgive me.” She sobbed.
Polly couldn’t believe her ears. “Kate, Satan will be ice skating to work the day I forgive you. Do you understand?”
There was no response.
“You didn’t have a one-night stand with Steve, you had a full-blown affair with him. One that went on for months before I discovered it. Do you think I could easily forgive you for that?” Polly swore again. She was incensed by the woman on the other end of the phone. “Are you insane? I would rather throttle you than have you as a friend again, Kate!” Polly wanted to hang up, but part of her wanted to hear what Kate had to say in response.
“I guess I deserve that.”
And a lot more besides. “Now, unless you have something else to tell me, I am going to hang up.”
Kate was silent for a second or two. “He’s left me.”
“What?” Polly almost laughed at the irony of it.
“Steve’s left me for Heather.”
“Heather? Who’s Heather?”
“Heather Jones. You know her, apparently. She mentioned you.”
Polly suddenly remembered who Heather Jones was and it hit her like a truck. Heather Jones was none other than the maid she’d hired to clean the house for her while she was away doing the book tour. “Oh, I know who Heather Jones is. I came home from the book tour to find Steve humping her in our bed.”
“What? You didn’t fight and kick him out when you got home?”
“Is that what he told you?”
Kate paused. “Yes.”
“So, he deceived us both.”
“Polly, can we meet?”
She shook her head. “I can’t, Kate. Just because he left you doesn’t erase what you did to me. And don’t forget you’re having his baby. You have no idea how angry I am at you!”
“I know. I deserve it.”
“Yeah, you do.” Polly sighed. “And I’m sorry the little shit screwed around on you, too.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t need that what with the baby coming and all.”
Kate started crying. “I’m scared, Poll.”
Polly closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. She didn’t need Kate’s emotional blackmail dragging her back into her life again, not after what she did. “What about?”
“I’m forty-two. I’m scared of having a baby at my age.”
“You’ve been paying far too much attention to all that media crap. You’ll be fine. You’re fit and healthy and if there were anything wrong, it would have shown up by now. How far along are you now?”
“Six months.”
Polly wasn’t prepared for that answer. She’d assumed it was three, at most. That meant the affair was going on under her nose for longer than she realised. It made her sick to her stomach and tears welled up in her eyes. “You’ll be fine,” she managed to say. “I have to go.”
“Speak soon?” Kate asked hurriedly before Polly had the chance to hang up.
“We’ll see.” She snapped the phone shut, leant on the kitchen counter, and burst into tears.
* * * *
It took Polly a while to pull herself together after Kate’s call. Part of her thought it served Kate right for what she’d done, but then Polly thought no one deserved to be treated the way Steve had now treated them both. He had his fun and when he got caught, he made a decision solely out of pure selfishness. He wanted his entertainment and hang the consequences. No matter how mad Polly was with Kate, she was madder at Steve.
Polly put the kettle on and sat drinking tea in the dark. She didn’t want to return to the lounge and she heard the film still playing. She dreaded the thought of telling Brendan what his dad went and did now. It was hard enough telling him his father ran off with Kate. Brendan was furious that she was pregnant, too. He thought his dad was having a mid-life crisis. Perhaps he was. But was his aim to leave a trail of broken hearts just so he could satisfy his lusts?
Polly hadn’t realised that the film had finished, the house had fallen silent, and that Brendan was watching her crying into her mug of tea from the kitchen door.
“You all right, Mum?” he asked.
Polly fairly jumped out of her skin.
“Sorry.” Bren
dan crossed the room and gave her a sideways hug. “What’s up? Who was that on the phone?”
“Kate,” Polly said quietly, fighting back more tears.
“Hmm…what did she want?” He crossed the room to the fridge and grabbed himself a can of cola.
“She wanted to talk.”
“Got a cheek, hasn’t she?”
“She said your dad left her.”
“What? Why?”
“For Heather,” Polly answered quietly.
Brendan shook his head. “Heather? Who’s she?”
“The…er…the maid.”
“What!” Brendan almost spat his drink out.
Polly watched as he swore and kicked the cabinet door. “I feel sorry for her,” she muttered.
“Well, don’t! She was shagging Dad behind your back, Mum. Now that she’s had the same thing done to her, she wants your friendship back.”
Polly nodded. “Something like that, yeah.”
“Tell her to sod off.”
Polly finished off the remaining tea in her mug and pushed it away from her. No matter how many times she swallowed, she couldn’t remove the lump in her throat. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”
“Ok, Mum.” Brendan crossed the kitchen and enfolded her in his arms.
Polly sobbed. She couldn’t help herself. The hug was just what she needed. Brendan held her tightly until she stopped and she kissed his cheek as they parted.
As she reached the bottom stair, Brendan spoke out. “Mum, what on earth is going on in that man’s head? It’s like he’s not thinking at all!”
She replied sadly, “I think that’s the problem, son. He is thinking, just with the wrong head.”
* * * *
The rest of the week passed in a blur. Brendan went away to the beach with Abigail and Polly was left alone to think about her next book. She knew she ought to have something to present to Jackie the next time they spoke. Kate called repeatedly and left messages when Polly refused to pick up. She knew she’d give in eventually, but right now she was hurting too much to deal with Kate.
The departure date for her holiday drew nearer and Polly found herself getting excited. More than once, she thought of what Jackie said about the Greek lover in Chapter Seven and giggled to herself. It felt a little naughty to be thinking that way. What the heck? It could be just the tonic I need.
