The Trouble with Love (3 page)

SIX

“What are you thinking?” Sam murmured, his eyes questioning.

I'm thinking of you
, Polly told herself. Everything about Sam, the fire and the sunset and the beach, was utterly perfect. Even their dunk in the freezing sea had an air of romance about it. She wouldn't let herself ruin the magic.

“I was thinking,” she said, gazing into his warm hazel eyes, “of doing this.”

She leaned towards him and kissed him on the lips. There was a flash of delight on his face, and then he gathered her into him and kissed her back.

His hands held her face so gently, and his lips were soft and searching. She felt as though she were melting against him. He tasted of salt and the smoke of the fire, and as their kiss deepened she found herself winding her hands around his neck and pulling him closer. He tugged softly at her bottom lip with his teeth, exploring her mouth as intently as she was exploring his. Pleasure shot through her like fire. How could she ever have thought of kissing Liam?
This
was the perfect first kiss that she'd been waiting for.

“Polly!”

Polly opened her eyes, feeling a little dazed. Her name was on the wind. Someone was shouting for her. Someone that sounded like Lila.

“Kiss me again,” Sam whispered, pulling her back towards him. The feeling of his mouth on hers was indescribably wonderful—

“
Polly!
”

Polly came back to reality with a jolt. It
was
Lila, and she sounded worried.

A second voice joined in. “POLLY! Where are you?”

Ollie had joined the hunt. Any moment now, he and Lila would come round the top of the rocks by the clock tower and see her with Sam.

Polly's first coherent thought was clear.
Stop them before they see us.
It was an odd thought, she knew. But she wanted Sam for herself. The spell would be broken if too many people knew about it. She knew that as surely as she knew anything. It was their moment, hers and Sam's, and nobody else's.

“I'll be right back,” she promised, trailing her fingers through Sam's short dark hair. Shrugging off the blanket, she got quickly to her feet. “Don't go away.”

She broke into a run up the beach, right to the top of the rocks. Then she veered right past the clock tower and down to the stretch of sand on the other side. There she stopped to catch her breath, resting her hands on her knees.

“I'm here,” she gasped, raising one arm to wave as Lila and Ollie approached, hand in hand, with worried expressions on their faces. “I'm fine.”

“Polly!” Lila dropped Ollie's hand and ran up to her. “Your clothes . . . your hair! You're
drenched
. What happened to you?”

“You've been gone for ages,” Ollie complained.

Polly felt a flicker of pleasure. Ollie had noticed she was gone. But the flicker had none of the old sting about it. It was strange standing so close to him, but feeling so far away at the same time. She had never thought it could happen. Right now, all she wanted to do was distract her friends and run back into Sam's waiting arms.

“I . . . it's nothing, I was walking by the water and a big wave caught me by surprise,” she lied.

“It must have been a heck of a wave,” said Ollie, looking at the way her top clung damply to her skin.

“It was. I should have had a surfboard!” The joke sounded stilted, even to Polly's own ears. Would they realize she was lying to them?

Ollie started singing a surfing tune, lifting his arms and pretending to ride a wave. Lila laughed and shoved him in the ribs, making him topple backwards.

“No!” Ollie shouted, flailing around dramatically. “I'm drowning! A shark! A jellyfish! A jelly shark!”

Lila put her hands on her hips. “Strawberry flavoured? They're the most dangerous, I hear.”

Ollie continued groaning, rolling around on the sand by her feet.

Lila rolled her eyes. “I suggest we ignore him,” she said. Her face grew serious again. “Where have you been, Pol? We've been looking for you for over an hour. Seriously, we thought you'd been swept out to sea.”

She wasn't far wrong, Polly thought.

“You know how it can be sometimes,” she said aloud, choosing her words carefully. “I was just walking, clearing my head. I lost track of time. I'm sorry you were worried, but as you can see, I'm fine. Listen, I think I need to head home, get some dry clothes. You guys go back to the party.”

“Are you sure?” said Ollie, getting to his feet and dusting the sand off his jeans. “We can walk you back.”

“No,” Polly said, so quickly that Lila frowned in surprise. “I mean, don't miss the party on my account. It's not far and I'm pretty tired.”

Lila looked back over her shoulder, towards the secret cove. Polly could just hear the beat of music above the crash of the waves. “Well, if you're sure. . .”

“I am,” Polly said firmly.

Ollie raised his hands. “You're the boss. But I'm eating your marshmallows.”

She wished they would hurry up and leave. She managed a smile. “Fine. Just go before someone else gets them.”

Ollie groaned in pretend panic and started pulling Lila back towards the party.

“Don't get hypothermia, OK?” Lila called back. “I'll call you later!”

Polly waited until they were out of sight, jigging impatiently from foot to foot. If they saw her heading down towards the water instead of home, they might come back and ask her more questions. And she really,
really
didn't want them to do that.

Finally they were gone. Polly spun on the spot, raced back past the clock tower, jumped down into the sand on the other side – and stopped in dismay.

The boat had gone. And so had Sam.

SEVEN

Polly rubbed her eyes, willing Sam to be there. But there was nothing. Just the sea washing against the rocks, and a pair of squabbling gulls that flapped away as she approached. She could hardly breathe for disappointment.

Did I dream it?
she wondered wildly. The whole thing had been strangely dreamlike. The drama on the rocks, the sighting of the boat, the catastrophic rescue and the incredible kiss. She brought her fingers to her mouth. She could still feel Sam's lips on hers. How could she have kissed a dream?

The sad remains of the campfire they had built, its flames doused by the creeping tide, proved that it had been real. But how could Sam have vanished without a word, without even a hint that he had been there with her? She thought they had both felt their amazing connection. But as usual, she was wrong.

Tears blurred Polly's eyes as she scuffed her toe through the charred, floating driftwood by her feet. There was something tragic and poetic about the dying campfire. It was just like her love life: burning bright for one moment and extinguished the next.

Why do the men in my life all disappear?
she thought in despair. First her dad, and now Sam. She didn't think she could bear it.

Polly tried to find a way of stopping herself from sinking into total gloom.
It's better this way
, she told herself as she wiped the treacherous tears from her eyes. Romance was more trouble than it was worth. Her parents had once been in love, and look what had happened to them. Relationships never worked. Why even start them?

Polly grimaced as she remembered how much she used to love the story about how her parents had met. She could see her mum's face creased into a sunny smile as she went into all the details around the scrubbed kitchen table with its view of San Francisco Bay. How she had just graduated from university in Britain and was travelling across the States looking for adventure; how she had literally bumped into Polly's dad while running for one of the cute little trams that wheezed up and down San Francisco's hills; how he had wowed her with his unconventional approach to life; and how they had married almost at once and settled in that beautiful city with its red bridge, its strange foggy weather, and the unpredictability of the ground under your feet, which would shiver every now and again like a dog shaking water off its fur.

“Do you know,” her mum would say, laughing as her dad laid his blond head on the kitchen table pretending to cover his ears, “when we first met, your dad hadn't changed his clothes in
three weeks
? I thought he was a vagrant!”

“It was
research
!” her dad used to protest in his warm American voice, peeking a little through his fingers with his head still on the table. “You can't write a thesis about living off the urban landscape with only your wits keeping you from total destitution without experiencing it for real.”

“You certainly did that,” Polly's mum had replied, ruffling his hair affectionately. “So did everyone else on that tram. The smell of you!”

“You didn't think I smelled so bad at the time,” Polly's dad reminded her. And they had smiled at each other in a way that made Polly feel warm inside.

Her parents had been magical together once, before their differences broke them apart and the world came tumbling down around Polly's ears. Suddenly it was all screaming and shouting, slamming doors and packing suitcases. Her dad leaving, and her mother crying. And then San Francisco had fallen away beneath the wings of the aeroplane, bringing Polly's mother home, and Polly to a cold, crowded place full of strange customs, tiny roads and the horrible reality of wearing the exact same school uniform day after day instead of the brightly coloured tunics, zebra-print leggings and sneakers with glittery laces she had worn in the past. Even now, six years on, she felt as if she had left more than just her heart back in the States. She had left her identity there as well.

It's best to leave Sam as just one perfect memory
, she consoled herself.
Not even I can ruin a memory.

She turned away from the sea and trudged up the beach. Suddenly the thought of a warm shower, cosy slippers and her fluffy onesie consumed her. She would use her favourite organic shampoo, and break open the new pot of body cream she had been saving since her birthday. She would throw away the skirt which had brought her so much trouble today, and fix up the perfect outfit for tomorrow. She would forget about all the plans and hopes she'd had, of walking on the beach with Sam and holding his hand and maybe even taking him to Kissing Island by the light of a full moon, where they would kiss and dream and talk about the stars.

Don't think about what could have been
, she ordered herself fiercely.
There's no point. Just walk faster
. Her feet were like blocks of ice.

As she turned into her road, a figure detached itself from the pillar by her driveway.

“Hi,” said Eve. “I was waiting for you.”

Eve was the last person Polly wanted to see. She smoothed down her damp hair as best she could and folded her arms like a barrier between them.

Eve's face was pale in the streetlight. She jammed her hands deep into her coat pockets. “I wanted to talk about earlier. When you saw me, you know. . .”

“Making out with your best friend's boyfriend?” Polly enquired.

Eve fiddled with a lock of auburn hair. “Max, yes.”

“And you're here so I can congratulate you?” Polly was in no mood for making Eve feel better about what she'd done.

“Of course not!” said Eve. “I just wanted a private word about it.”

“You have one minute,” Polly said. Her teeth were starting to chatter again. She had to get inside before hypothermia became a genuine concern.

“I just wanted to know. . .” Eve began. She shifted her weight to her other foot and fiddled with her hair again. “What will it take to keep you quiet about me and Max?”

“What?”

“We don't want this getting back to Rhi,” Eve said.

The way she said “we” made Polly realize something. “That wasn't the first time, was it?” she said incredulously.

Eve lifted her chin. “We've been seeing each other for a couple of weeks. Since Valentine's Day, actually. What Rhi doesn't know can't hurt her.”

Eve was unbelievable, thought Polly. How could she behave so badly towards her best friend? She squirmed a little as she thought of the fantasies she'd had about Ollie. But the difference was, she would never act on them.

“So?” said Eve impatiently. “What do you want?”

Eve wouldn't hesitate to use this kind of information for evil purposes. She assumed Polly would do the same. Eve didn't know her at all.

“I would love the world to see you for the nasty person that you really are,” Polly answered coolly. “I might start dropping hints in the corridor after half-term.”

Eve went paler. “You wouldn't. Would you? Rhi would totally kill us both.”

Rhi was more likely to shatter with misery, Polly thought. Eve Somerstown understood nothing about broken hearts. She wanted Eve to leave.

“All I want is for you to leave Lila alone,” she said, feeling bone weary. “Stop all your tricks and wind-ups. Enough is enough, Eve.”

Eve scuffed the ground. “And if I do, you'll stay quiet? No hints, nothing?”

“Go home,” Polly said coldly, and headed up her driveway without looking back. She could feel Eve's eyes watching her.

“Fine,” Eve called after her. “But if Rhi finds out, let's just say I'll know who to blame.”

Eve's footsteps echoed away down the road. But Polly wasn't listening any more. Her eyes were fixed on someone else waiting in the driveway, his car parked up against the laurel bushes by the front door. She couldn't process what she was seeing.

“Dad?” she said in disbelief.

“Hey, Polly Dolly,” said her father with a broad smile. He lifted his arms hopefully towards her. “Give your old dad a hug?”

Polly's feet wouldn't move. “What are you doing here?” she managed.

When it was clear Polly wasn't going to run into his arms, her father tucked his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat. “Your mother asked the same question. She's locked me out of the house.” He nodded at the tightly shut front door.

Polly started trembling. The shock of seeing him standing there, like he'd done nothing, like everything was normal. . . It was too much. She hadn't seen or heard from him in months, not since the last argument her parents had had in this exact same driveway, complete with smashing dishes and a call to the police from concerned neighbours.

“Why didn't you tell me you were coming?”

She knew the question sounded sharp. She couldn't help it.

“I tried.” Her father pulled a face and looked at the front door again. “Your mom must have intercepted all my messages.” He held out his arms again. “I didn't come to see her, though. I came to see you.”

Polly wanted to fall into his arms and cry all over his shirt. Her feet still wouldn't move.

The front door opened.

“Get inside, Polly,” said her mother, in the hard voice Polly knew so well. “Your father is leaving.”

“I have a right to see my daughter, Ginny,” protested her dad. “You can't keep me away from her.”

Polly's mother glared at him. “Watch me, Alex! Polly? Inside.”

Polly looked from her mother's furious face to her father's crumpled, disappointed one. Tears gleamed in his eyes.

“Inside
now
,” her mother repeated in a voice of iron.

Polly moved, ghostlike, towards the door.

“Call me,” she said quietly as she passed her dad, so only he could hear.