The Perfect Solution

by Catherine George

  She sighed. On the Other hand, it was a bad idea to throw herself into Marc's arms at the drop of a hat however much she wanted to. Because of Polly the only relationship possible between them was friendship. A love affair, deeply tempting prospect though it might be, was out of the question.

  Polly took to school like a duck to water, even happy to have her lunch there once she found Jack and Charlie Lavenham ate theirs in school too.

  'You won't know you're born, Mrs Clifford,' said Doris the first day.

  Joanna, who felt illogically restless now she had several hours all to herself, smiled ruefully. 'I felt terrible when I handed her over this morning, Doris. I don't know why! Polly went skipping off with the Lavenham twins without a qualm.'

  For a while that first day Joanna pottered about, finding things to do instead of shutting herself in the study. But at last, mindful of recent hints from her editor, she sat down at her desk and began, very slowly at first, but eventually with her usual concentration, to work on the Snowbird adventure abandoned when Polly arrived to disrupt her life.

  Once the new routine was established, the days began to fly by. Polly, stimulated and diverted by her lessons and the company of other children, was a very different little person. There were times when she still lapsed into grief for her mother, or anxiety over seeing Marc again, but with the resilience of childhood she gradually began to accept her new way of life, an acceptance which speeded up enormously once Sunny arrived on the scene.

  Sunny was a golden Labrador, two years old, whose owners had been posted to a job abroad and couldn't take him along.

  'His neutered and well-trained,' said Mrs Blake on the telephone. 'A very attractive dog, and used to children, Mrs Clifford. His owners are heartbroken at having to part with him. Would you care to come and see him?'

  Two hours later, Joanna, who fell madly in love with Sunny at first sight, had the dog on a lead as she waited outside the school. When Polly ran out with the Lavenham twins, she stopped dead as she saw Joanna with a dog.

  'Is that ours?' she demanded, scarlet-faced with excitement.

  Rejoicing at the word 'ours', Joanna nodded casually. 'Do you like him?'

  'Go on, pat him,' exhorted Jack Lavenham, and Polly, gingerly at first, then more boldly, stroked Sunny's handsome head. The dog, panting gently, looking as though he were grinning from ear to ear, submitted to the caress with such obvious pleasure that Joanna soon had to restrain all three children from giving the dog concussion with their attentions.

  'Good move, that dog,' approved Mary. 'Now let me get my little darlings off the poor beast before the RSPCA come down on us.'

  Sunny was a very well-trained, beautifully behaved dog, and no trouble at all from the first. It was Polly who posed the problems encountered in the first few days of dog-ownership. She yearned to feed him titbits from the table, and protested stormily because Joanna said Sunny couldn't go upstairs.

  'He's a dog, Polly,' said Joanna firmly. 'He'll be much happier if we keep to the rules. And healthier,' she added, 'if you don't keep giving him bits and pieces to eat. He'll grow fat. And if he's fat he'll be ill.'

  Polly, quick to learn, thought this over and decided she hated the idea of Sunny being ill, and kept meticulously to Joanna's instructions from then on.

  'She adores him,' reported Joanna when Marc rang towards the end of the week. 'She hasn't cried for Rosa at all since Sunny arrived.'

  'My idea was a good one, then,' said Marc smugly.

  Joanna chuckled. 'An absolute brainwave!'

  'If Polly's still asking when I'm coming home, by the way,' he went on casually, 'I am.'

  'You're what?'

  'Home. I'm in London. I arrived today, jet-lagged, death warmed up, but home.'

  Joanna sat down abruptly. 'Oh. I didn't realise ‑'

  'I bade a fond farewell to Washington yesterday, I caught a flight today—or is it tomorrow?' He waited for a while. 'Are you still there, Joanna?'

  'Yes. I'm here.' Joanna gathered her dazed wits together hurriedly. 'Shall I tell Polly you'll see her soon?'

  'I'll be tied up at the paper until Saturday. If I drive down to Swancote on Sunday morning, could I take you both out to lunch?'

  'I'll cook lunch,' said Joanna quickly. 'If you like, that is.'

  'I like very much. See you Sunday.'

  When Polly heard her uncle was coming to lunch at the weekend her eyes were like stars.

  'He can come when we take Sunny for a walk. He'll like Sunny, won't he? Can I get down, please?' Barely waiting for Joanna's permission she left the breakfast table to crouch down by the dog, telling him how much he'd like Marco, and what fun it would be to go for walks together.

  Joanna watched indulgently, wondering how Marc would react to the change in his niece. Polly was a different child from the woebegone little creature he'd left behind.

  Instead of racing by, time dragged interminably until the weekend. In vain Joanna ordered herself to stop behaving like a schoolgirl with her first crush. She had to force herself to concentrate on her work, to banish the clever, olive-skinned face which kept coming between her eyes and the page. She was glad when Friday afternoon came round at last, and she could officially abandon work for the weekend.

  'What's up?' demanded Mary, as they waited outside the school for their charges. 'You're like a cat on hot bricks. Work going badly?'

  'Concentration's bad,' said Joanna with truth.

  'Hardly surprising, is it!' Mary eyed her, frowning. 'Something wrong, Jo?'

  Joanna smiled sheepishly. 'Nothing more than usual. Life's a bit hectic these days, that's all. Not that I'm complaining,' she added hastily.

  'You're not brooding over Paul?'

  'Paul?' Joanna turned wide blue eyes on her friend.

  'Yes, Paul,' said Mary drily. 'Your husband.'

  Joanna blushed to the roots of her hair. 'No. Oh, Mary, I should be. But I'm not.'

  'Glad to hear it,' said Mary succinctly, then waved. 'Brace yourselves. Here they come.'

  Happily Saturday was a fine, sunny day which meant Joanna could channel both her own and Polly's energies by taking Sunny on walks as long as Polly's small legs would allow. Jack and Charlie came to tea, which put the finishing touch to both her own and Polly's exhaustion, and once George had collected the twins and Polly was in bed Joanna retreated to put her feet up on the sofa with a new novel. Sunny, apparently as glad as Joanna for a rest, lay stretched out on the floor beside her, snoring gently, while Joanna planned her menu for the next day. She smiled dreamily, abandoning any attempt to disguise the fact that she was as excited as Polly over seeing Marc Anstey again.

  After the large doses of fresh air Joanna felt drowsy in the warmth of the drawing-room. Her eyes grew heavy and the book slid, unnoticed, to the floor as she dozed. Suddenly she woke with a start, to see Marc's face, disembodied at the window. For a moment she thought she was dreaming, that his face was some kind of wish fulfilment, then she realised he was smiling and disturbingly real, and she felt a great rush of joy at the sight of him. Stealthily, in an effort to leave the dog sleeping undisturbed, she tiptoed on bare feet from the drawing-room and closed the door behind her before racing across the hall to fling open the door.

  'I'm a little early for Sunday lunch,' said Marc without preamble and seized her in his arms, kissing her fiercely, in a famished, unstoppable way which left Joanna unsteady on her feet when he released her.

  'I've been dreaming of that,' he said huskily.

  'I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow,' said Joanna breathlessly. She brushed past him to close the door with hands which shook so much that she could hardly shoot the bolt.

  'I managed to finish up earlier than I thought, so instead of going back to my lonely flat I rang the Lamb and Flag in Swancote, bespoke me a room for the night, then drove down here like a bat out of hell.' He reached out a hand to touch her cheek. 'Are you glad to see me?'

  'Would there be any point in denying it?' she asked mockingly
.

  His eyes danced. 'No. Not after that kiss.' He looked about him. 'Where's this guard-dog of yours, by the way?'

  'Asleep in the drawing-room.' Joanna opened the door. 'Here, Sunny. Here, boy. Come and say hello.'

  Sunny was shameless in his predilection for the new arrival. Joanna chuckled as the dog fawned over Marc. 'He obviously fancies you like mad.'

  'Never mind the dog—does his owner feel the same? If not madly, at least a little.'

  He turned to look at her so suddenly that Joanna had to think fast. 'Even if I do, I'm not going to let myself,' she blurted.

  His eyes narrowed. 'Am I allowed to ask why?'

  'Because I'm too vulnerable at the moment. You must be, too, in a different kind of way.' Joanna's chin went up. 'If ever—I mean if we were to become involved in that way I'd want it to be for normal, healthy reasons, not because our link with Rosa pushed us together.'

  'Shall I go out and come in again then?' he asked with sarcasm. 'I find it a little difficult to revert to formality now, after that kiss.'

  She grinned. 'I don't require formality, Mr Anstey. Let's just be friends. Good friends, of course.'

  'With the accent on the "good".' His eyes lingered deliberately on her mouth. 'It seems a pity. Would you believe that while I was in the States I resisted quite a few blandishments just because of your beautiful blue eyes?'

  'I'll try,' said Joanna tartly, leading the way into the kitchen. 'Shall I make you something to eat now?'

  'No. I had a large celebratory lunch. I'd like some coffee, though, and while you make it will Sunny here let me go up to see Polly?'

  'Try him.'

  Sunny was quite happy to let Marc upstairs. He made it plain he would have liked to go too, but in response to Marc's command the dog lay obediently at the foot of the stairs, waiting with his handsome head raised in longing for this new, fascinating human to return.

  'Polly looks well!' said Marc, coming into the kitchen. He closed the door behind him. 'She's sleeping like a log.'

  'Now we have Sunny we walk a lot. The fresh air knocks her out.' Joanna poured coffee for them both, then sat down at the kitchen table. 'So how was Washington?'

  'Hectic.' Marc sat down opposite her, looking to Joanna's eyes even more attractive than before now some of the lines of grief were smoothed from his lean, dark face. He smiled into her eyes, reaching a hand across the table to touch hers. 'How have you been, Joanna?'

  'At first it was hard going,' she admitted, withdrawing her hand gently. 'After you'd gone Polly relapsed badly, as I told you. But since she started school she's been a different child.' Joanna explained about the help the Lavenhams had given, and how Polly liked playing with the twins. 'Then Sunny came on the scene.' Joanna grinned. 'She's been telling him how much he's going to like you, and she was right!'

  'Children and dogs always like me,' said Marc smugly, eyes gleaming. 'It's a good indication of a chap's character. Paul hated dogs, which proves my point.'

  There was a sudden, charged silence, then Marc shook his head. 'Sorry, Joanna.'

  She shrugged. 'You can't help how you feel, I suppose. And we can't pretend Paul never existed. He did. And until recently, too. I keep feeling that a widow with any pretensions to sensitivity wouldn't even be here with you like this. We hardly know each other, really, Marc.'

  'Owning to pressures beyond our control we've got to know each other faster and more intimately than we'd ever have done if we'd met in the usual way.' He captured her hand again, caressing it gently. 'Nothing on earth will alter the fact that Rosa and Paul are gone. But you and I are here and alive, Joanna. Is it so terrible to be attracted to each other? Neither of us is hurting someone else, as Paul and Rosa did. Paul was no husband to you, not for years, anyway. Why should you feel guilty about wanting to live and ‑?' He stopped short, his eyes completing the sentence for him as they held hers.

  'I see your point,' she admitted. 'But I doubt if the world at large would feel the same.'

  'I don't give a damn about the world at large. The opinion I care about is yours.'

  'Is it? Then in my considered opinion we should go into reverse a little. Get to know each other better before ‑' She paused, flushing.

  'You stopped at the interesting bit.'

  'You know perfectly well what I mean.'

  Marc smiled. 'Yes, Joanna. I know exactly what you mean. And I won't tease you any more. I'll do my utmost to behave. But it won't be easy,' he added, his caressing eyes bringing heat to her cheeks.

  They spent the rest of the evening in the drawing-room, Sunny on the floor beside Marc's chair while they caught up with each other's news.

  'You must be pretty tired,' she commented, after yawns began to punctuate Marc's conversation rather regularly.

  'I haven't caught up on myself yet. I've been working flat out to get back home to finalise a little matter I embarked on some time ago.' He stretched luxuriously, looking very pleased with himself.

  'Am I allowed to ask what it is?' asked Joanna, curiously.

  'A new job. It was confirmed today. As from the first of next month I shall no longer go a-roving to foreign parts. I shall be foreign editor of the Citadel, and based in London. Are you going to congratulate me?'

  Joanna looked at him uncertainly. 'I don't know yet. How will the new arrangement affect Polly— and me?'

  Marc stared at her, astonished. 'You don't honestly think I'd take her away from you now that she's settling down in Swancote?' He paused. 'Unless that's what you want, of course.'

  'Of course it isn't,' she snapped. 'How can you even suggest such a thing?'

  He passed a hand over his face, then leaned forward in his chair. 'Shall I tell you why I put in for the new job, Joanna Swan? Because it meant being based permanently in the UK. And why did I want that? So I could see more of you—and Polly too, of course. It beats me how you could think I'd take her away from you!'

  Joanna quailed before the fierce light in his eyes. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' She pushed a glossy wing of hair back from her face. 'It's just that I've grown so attached to her already—I couldn't bear the thought of losing her.'

  His eyes softened. 'I realise that. So, now you've had time to calm down, am I allowed to ask if you welcome the idea of having me around more often? In my function as Polly's legal guardian, of course.'

  'I think I can handle that,' said Joanna matter-of-factly, hoping he had no inkling of how much the idea thrilled her. 'Were there many people after the job?'

  'Hundreds! But with me in the running, of course, no one else stood a chance.'

  'So modest!'

  He gazed at her, sighing. 'This is going to be very difficult for me, Joanna.'

  'What is?'

  'Trying to keep my distance. You must know I'm straining every muscle to stay where I am instead of coming over there and taking you in my arms.'

  'Take Sunny for a walk in the garden instead,' she said briskly. 'I'll make some sandwiches while you're out.'

  Marc laughed ruefully and jumped to his feet, clicking his fingers to the willing dog. 'You're a cruel lady. Come on, hound. Let's go cool off in the night air.'

  Joanna felt absurdly happy as she put a snack together in the kitchen. It was useless to tell herself that a woman who was thirty next birthday shouldn't be feeling like a starry-eyed teenager, that one look from Marc Anstey's black eyes shouldn't be enough to melt all her resistance. Not that she was going to let him know that it did. Nor, she thought bleakly, was she going to let him make love to her, no matter how much she wanted him to. It was all too sudden, too new. They had known each other far too short a time to rush into something which would inevitably end in tears. Polly's, as well as her own.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Joanna woke next morning to a feeling of anticipation she knew at once was due to Marc's unexpected reappearance. She sang off-key as she showered and dressed, deciding to stop worrying about relationships and just enjoy the day with a fascinating, charismatic man who made it fla
tteringly clear he found her desirable. She put on a new strawberry-pink wool shirt and grey flannel trousers then went in to Polly, who was sitting up in bed, tongue between her teeth in intense concentration as she sketched the row of battered teddies on the shelf. Polly held up her face to be kissed, then went on with her masterpiece while Joanna marvelled at the way the child had contrived, with a minimum of basic lines, to portray the characteristics of each separate bear.

  'Goodness, darling,' said Joanna. 'That is good.'

  'I like drawing.'

  'I know you do. But could you go back to it later? Sunny needs a walk.'

  Polly agreed.

  'Guess who came to see us last night?' said Joanna, smiling, when they were out in the garden.

  Polly's bright black eyes looked puzzled. 'I don't know. Who, Jo?'

  'Your uncle! He came home a day early.'

  Polly stared, her lower lip quivering. 'Marco! Didn't he come to see me?'

  'Of course he did, the moment he arrived. But you were fast asleep. Don't look like that,' added Joanna hastily, bending to hug the child. 'He's staying in the village. He'll be here soon.'

  In wild excitement the child went careering round in circles with the barking dog, too pent-up at the thought of seeing her beloved Marco again to eat much breakfast when they went in. Joanna hadn't the heart to scold her. She couldn't eat much herself. And she was old enough to know better, she reminded herself as she began preparations for the celebration lunch.

  The reunion between Marc Anstey and Polly was touching to see, the presence of an excited, barking Sunny a welcome touch of lightness as the child wept with joy to see her uncle again.

  'Hey,' said Marc huskily, 'you mustn't cry, tesoro Look, you're upsetting Sunny!'

  Quick to comfort the dog, Polly forgot her tears as she pulled Marc into the house and began to talk nineteen to the dozen about the Lavenham twins, and all the new friends she'd made, and the lessons she did at school.