Elliot drove that disturbing thought from his head, not wanting her to suspect how on edge he felt. ‘I suggest you follow me home so I can introduce you to Joseph. I’ve bought the old blacksmith’s cottage in Trefoil Lane—do you know it?’
‘Yes,’ she replied succinctly then turned away. Going over to her car, she started the engine, not waiting for him as she set off.
Elliot slid the powerful car into gear, curbing the urge to put his foot down and overtake her when they reached the open road. So she didn’t need him to lead the way—so what? If she was trying to prove her independence then he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anyone except Joseph. The strange thing was that, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, it didn’t ring true. Deep down inside, in some long-abandoned place, he did care. He cared a lot, cared about her opinion of him. Foolish though he knew it was, he didn’t want Polly Davies to think badly of him.
* * *
It was almost nine a.m. when Polly drew up outside The Old Smithy, as the cottage was known locally. She could hear the clock on Beesdale Church chiming the hour as she got out of the car and sighed. By rights she should have been on the train by now, but what else could she have done in the circumstances? Elliot Grey needed her help even if he had been less than gracious about accepting it. Did he honestly think that she had been trying to worm her way into his good books by offering to mind his son? she thought as she walked up the path. Well, if that were the case, he was in for a shock. He might think he was next to God in the pecking order but he was a long way from being that, in her opinion!
‘Come along. I need to get back to the hospital as soon as possible.’
The subject of her thoughts swept past her and opened the front door. Polly’s mouth thinned as she followed him inside. Would it hurt him to employ a few basic good manners? she thought sourly. Behave like any normal person would do in the circumstances? She didn’t expect him to go over the top—just to appear grateful would be enough. However, it seemed that gratitude and Elliot Grey weren’t acquainted with one another.
She followed him along the hall, taking stock as she went. She knew that the cottage had been converted by its previous owners, a couple from London who had used it as a weekend retreat until travelling back and forth had become too much of a hassle. They had spent a fortune on it, if rumour was to be believed, and the original cottage now encompassed what had once been the blacksmith’s forge.
However, it wasn’t until she stepped into the kitchen that she realised just how much it had changed. The room was enormous and wonderfully spacious despite the impressive range of top-end fitments. Polly sighed as she drank it all in, from the marble-topped island in the centre to the cosy family corner complete with squashy leather sofa. It was the kitchen she and Martin had dreamed about, not that they could have hoped to own a place as spectacular as this even if they had got married...
‘Who are you?’
The question brought her back to earth with a bump. Polly turned to find a small boy of about eight years of age watching her with an all too familiar expression in his green eyes. Talk about a chip off the old block, she thought ruefully as she took in the dark brown hair, the clean-cut features, not to mention the air of reserve the child projected. He had to be Elliot’s son; the resemblance was too marked for him not to be. The only thing that set him apart from his father was the fact that he was in a wheelchair.
Polly’s gaze flew to Elliot and her heart seemed to scrunch up inside her when she saw the expression on his face, all the love mingled with a fear that she might say something to hurt the child. In that moment everything she felt about him was turned on its head, turned upside down and inside out as well. Now he was no longer a pain in the proverbial, some insufferable, self-opinionated man who needed putting in his place. Now he was simply a loving father who wanted to protect his child, and Polly realised that she could forgive him anything because of that.
CHAPTER THREE
‘MY NAME’S POLLY DAVIES. And you must be Joseph. How do you do?’
Elliot let out the breath he hadn’t even known he was holding as Polly reached out and shook Joseph’s hand. She didn’t do what so many folk did, what they thought they should do, and bend down so she was on his son’s level. She simply held out her hand and that was it, and it was a form of acceptance of Joseph’s condition that touched him in ways Elliot could barely understand. Polly wasn’t pretending that Joseph was the same as every other child his age, but she wasn’t making an issue of it either by overcompensating. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the unfamiliar lump that had found its way there.
‘Polly is going to look after you while I go back to the hospital, Joseph.’
‘Is the baby still not well?’ Joseph spun his wheelchair around, his face alight with interest. Elliot had no idea if it was right or wrong but he always discussed his cases with him. Joseph had become his sounding board, in a way; he ran through what he had done, checking in his own mind that he couldn’t have done more, and Joseph listened even if he didn’t always understand the complexities of what he was hearing.
‘No. Sadly one of his heart valves isn’t working properly. It needs replacing so I’ll have to go back and see to it. Mrs Danton has to mind her grandchildren this morning so Polly has offered to stay with you.’ It was the first time that Elliot had said Polly’s name and he felt the tiniest frisson run down his spine, like fairy footsteps tiptoeing over his skin. He wasn’t sure why it was happening and certainly wasn’t going to make the mistake of searching for an explanation so he hurried on. ‘Is that all right with you?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Joseph shot an assessing glance at Polly. ‘Are you a nanny?’
‘No. I’m a midwife,’ she replied evenly, not at all put out, it appeared, about being cross-questioned.
‘So you work at the hospital?’ Joseph continued, weighing up what she had said.
‘No. I’m a community midwife. I deliver babies at home and also take care of the mums before and after their babies are born.’
‘Dad thinks you lot should be banned,’ Joseph told her, ignoring Mrs Danton’s tut of disapproval. ‘He says you do more harm than good.’
‘So I believe.’ Polly glanced at him and Elliot stiffened in readiness for what would come next. ‘Sadly, even the cleverest people can be wrong sometimes, Joseph.’
Joseph laughed, his small face lighting up with amusement. ‘Dad won’t like you saying that—do you, Dad?’
‘Ahem. It’s a discussion best left till another time,’ Elliot murmured, feeling as though he had been caught flat-footed. He had expected a far more acerbic response and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Surely Polly wasn’t softening towards him...was she?
Those wretched fairies were at it again, running fairy-sized races up and down his spine, and he had to force himself not to get side-tracked by that strangely appealing thought. Mrs Danton was putting on her coat and he thanked her for minding Joseph then turned to Polly as soon as she had left. ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be so you may need to sort out something for lunch. Joseph can show you where everything is.’
‘Fine. It’s not a problem.’ She shrugged off her coat and tossed it over a chair then went to the kettle and switched it on. ‘How about a drink, Joseph? Juice? Milk? Hot chocolate? What do you fancy?’
‘Cola,’ Joseph replied immediately.
‘Oh, no,’ Elliot began but he got no further.
‘Nice try, sunshine, but I doubt if your dad lets you have fizzy drinks at this time of the day, so choose something else,’ Polly said firmly.
‘Milk then,’ Joseph muttered, rolling his eyes.
‘Coming right up.’
She went to the huge American-style refrigerator, took out the milk then opened a cupboard and took out a glass. Elliot watched in amazement, marvelling at how at home she seemed to be.
He was still finding his way around, opening cupboard after cupboard before he found what he wanted, and it was galling to admit it, galling too that she had dealt with Joseph so efficiently. People had a tendency to let him get away with things because of his disability, but not Polly. She had treated him the same as she would have treated any other child and, for the first time since Joseph was born, Elliot felt redundant. He wasn’t sure if he liked the idea either.
‘I’d better get going,’ he said gruffly, realising how ridiculous he was being. He should be glad that Joseph seemed happy to let Polly look after him. ‘Can you walk me out?’
‘Of course.’ Polly grinned at the little boy. ‘Your dad’s probably going to give me a list of dos and don’ts so be warned: I shall be completely up to speed when it comes to any more dodgy requests, young man!’
Joseph laughed again and Elliot hid his amazement because it wasn’t like him to take to a stranger so readily. Joseph could be difficult at times yet he seemed to have responded instantly to Polly the same as he, himself, had done. It was another thought that Elliot didn’t intend to give any room to. He strode along the hall, only halting when he reached the front door. Polly had stopped as well, so close that once again he could smell the scent of her shampoo, a fragrance that made his senses tingle... Clang! The barriers came down, shutting off that idea before it could go any further. He never entertained such fanciful thoughts about any woman and he refused to start now.
‘Joseph has medication he needs to take,’ he said, enunciating every word as he strove to clear his mind. ‘The details of time and dosage is in the top drawer of my desk in the study, along with the tablets he takes.’ He pointed out the room. ‘Any problems then phone me. My number’s on speed dial, along with the number of Joseph’s consultant in London. You can phone him if there’s a problem and I’m unavailable for any reason.’
‘Isn’t Joseph registered at The Larches surgery?’ Polly asked, frowning.
‘He is, but I would prefer it if you contacted his consultant if there’s a problem and you can’t reach me. Professor Rose has been responsible for Joseph’s care since he was a baby and he’s fully conversant with his case.’
‘I see. What exactly is wrong with Joseph?’
‘Spina bifida,’ Elliot replied succinctly. He knew it was stupid but he still found it difficult to talk about his son’s condition. Guilt rose up inside him, as it did every time he had to explain what was wrong with Joseph. He should have checked that Marianna was following her consultant’s advice and taking the supplements he had prescribed then maybe Joseph wouldn’t have been born with this condition!
‘I imagine it was detected during his mother’s pregnancy,’ Polly said gently and her tone was such a contrast to the rush of emotions which had hit him that Elliot couldn’t help reacting.
‘It showed up on one of the scans.’ Elliot tried his best, he really did, but it was impossible to keep the anger out of his voice. ‘And if Joseph’s mother had had her way then he wouldn’t be here now.’
‘Really!’ Polly exclaimed, unable to hide her surprise. ‘You mean that she wanted a termination?’
‘Yes. Marianna couldn’t handle the thought of having a child that wasn’t perfect,’ he replied harshly. Polly had the impression that he was struggling to regain control, but it was obvious that he was finding it difficult. There was anger in his voice when he continued and her heart ached for him. ‘The only thing she wanted was to get rid of the baby as quickly as possible.’
‘So how did you manage to persuade her to keep it?’ she said gently, wishing there was a way to comfort him. She sighed softly because, even though they had met only that day, she knew that he wouldn’t welcome her sympathy.
‘By offering her the one thing guaranteed to make her change her mind: money.’ He laughed and she flinched when she heard the bitterness in his voice. ‘I paid my ex-wife to have Joseph. And I’ve never regretted it either.’
Polly didn’t know what to say. Elliot had paid Joseph’s mother to go through with the pregnancy? The thought of how traumatic it must have been for him to do that brought tears to her eyes but she blinked them away. It wouldn’t help him if she gave in to her emotions.
‘It must have been a very difficult time for you,’ she said, struggling to strike the right note, not an easy thing to do when she felt so shaken by what he had told her.
He shrugged. ‘It’s all water under the bridge now.’ He opened the door then glanced back, and Polly felt her heart catch when she saw the pain in his eyes. Maybe he claimed that it no longer mattered but she could tell that it did. ‘Any problems then phone me.’
‘I will,’ she promised, although she doubted if he had heard her as he was already walking to his car. She closed the door, knowing it was pointless standing there to wave him off. That was something else he wouldn’t appreciate and it hurt to know how determined he was to distance himself from other people. It was an effort to smile when Joseph looked expectantly at her as she went back to the kitchen. Maybe it had nothing to do with her, but she hated to think of Elliot choosing to lead such a lonely existence.
‘Right, young man, what do you usually do at this time of the day?’ she said, forcing herself to sound upbeat. The last thing she wanted was to upset Joseph. The thought of his mother not wanting him because he wasn’t perfect hurt, but she managed to contain her feelings. ‘I imagine you’re in school normally but, with it being the Easter holidays, we need to find something to occupy you. What’s your favourite way to pass the time?’
‘Playing on my games console,’ Joseph replied promptly. He spun his chair around and made his way to the huge television set mounted on the wall opposite the sofa. Picking up the remote control, he switched it on then turned on the games console as well. ‘Do you know how to play?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Yes, although I’m not very good,’ she admitted, feeling pain stab through her as she picked up the spare controller.
After their parents had been killed in a car crash when Polly was twelve, she and her brother had gone to live with Martin’s family. Both sets of parents had been close friends and it had seemed the natural thing to do in the absence of any other family to look after them. Peter and Martin were three years older than Polly, but they had included her in all their games. Even though Peter had moved to New York after he had finished university, he and Martin often played online together. Now she sighed as she sat down on the sofa. She couldn’t imagine them playing again after what had happened. Cancelling the wedding was going to have repercussions for a lot of people.
She played for a little while then excused herself to check on Joseph’s medication. Times and dosages were clearly written down on the sheet of paper she found in Elliot’s desk, along with the medication itself. Joseph wasn’t due to take anything until lunchtime so she put everything back in the drawer and turned to leave, pausing when she caught sight of a photograph on the shelves behind the desk. It showed a beautiful blond-haired woman laughing into the camera. Was this Joseph’s mother? she wondered. Elliot had referred to her as his ex-wife but the fact that they were divorced didn’t mean he wouldn’t have a photograph of her. Even if she had behaved deplorably, it didn’t rule out the fact that he might still have feelings for her.
Polly turned away, surprised by how painful she found that idea. What did it matter if Elliot was still in love with his ex-wife? It had nothing to do with her.
* * *
‘I’ll be in my office. Tell the parents I’ll speak to them shortly.’
Elliot left Theatre, not bothering to check if his instructions had been noted. He simply expected his staff to do what he said and that was that. Was he being arrogant, perhaps? he found himself wondering as he headed to the changing rooms. Polly Davies would have said that he was and the fact that her opinion counted for anything was a source of irritation to him. He had met her only that
day so why should he care what she thought?
He showered and dressed then made his way to his office. The previous incumbent had decorated it according to his taste and Elliot was keen to stamp his own mark on it as soon as he could. He cast a disparaging glance at the wall behind the desk, which was filled with photographs of the babies his predecessor had treated. He didn’t need pictures to prove he was good at his job and had no intention of carrying on the tradition, although, if he was honest, wouldn’t he have been glad to see some kind of visible proof that Joseph would survive in the days following his birth?
Elliot’s brow furrowed as he sat down. It wasn’t like him to start having second thoughts and the fact that he was debating the merits of some old photographs surprised him. Quite frankly, he had been behaving completely out of character ever since that morning and although he wished he could blame it on the accident, he had a feeling that it had more to do with one irritating young woman. Polly Davies had got under his skin and the sooner he got her out again and returned to normal the happier he would be!
Alfie’s parents arrived a few minutes later so Elliot pushed all other thoughts out of his head while he dealt with them. He ran through what he had done, outlining the procedure to replace the faulty valve in their baby’s heart. The parents had had no warning that anything was wrong so it had been a huge shock for them when Alfie was born and rushed to Theatre. Elliot found that he could relate to how they felt and was less brusque than he might have been normally as he explained that although Alfie was still very poorly, he was hopeful as to the outcome. Sister Thomas smiled approvingly as she ushered the young couple out of the room.
Bride for the Single Dad Page 3
