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Several weeks had passed before she’d sent him a polite email, having obviously found his address on his business website. Very civilly, she’d apologised for upsetting him and she’d also made it very clear that she wouldn’t bother him again.
Seth had replied, offering an apology of his own and suggesting that they should stay in touch. He’d assured Polly he was keen to hear how her plans had worked out. But in twelve months there had been no response.
He supposed her silence was hardly surprising.
Problem was, he’d continued to wonder how she was faring. He remembered how close Polly and her dad had been, and he knew her father’s death must have left a huge hole in her life. And Seth also suspected that Polly probably didn’t have a huge circle of friends.
At school, she’d never been a great mixer, had never really been part of the ‘cool crowd’. Sad truth was, it made a weird kind of sense that she was now deliberately planning to live the solitary life of a single parent.
Even so, that prospect bothered Seth too. But damn it, he shouldn’t feel responsible for Polly. Hedidn’tfeel responsible for her. And yet, now that he was considering taking a break, he found himself thinking about having a day or two in Melbourne. He could see a show, catch up with old friends—and perhaps try to get in touch with Polly, just to ease his guilty conscience and reassure himself that she was okay.
*
It was onlya week later when Seth found himself, dripping wet from a deluge of rain, standing in an arcade in inner Melbourne. He’d discovered the address at the bottom of the one and only email Polly had sent him last year and had decided he needed to set his mind at rest.
All the way from Wirralong, he’d had to drive through the blasted rain, windscreen wipers thrashing madly, and when he’d arrived in the city, it had been, unsurprisingly, bleak and unwelcoming. He’d made a dash from the car park through pelting sheets of water and, although he was now undercover, his Driza-Bone coat dripped onto the arcade’s tiled mosaic floor. So, he wasn’t in the best of moods when he realised he was not going to find Polly here.
It was pretty damn obvious that the office where she was supposed to work was now abandoned. Seth was sure it was the right place. The address matched exactly and the name ‘Stringtech’ on her email header was still displayed on a plaque above the entrance.
But even the briefest glance through the glass-fronted door showed that the office was empty. A huge red ‘For Lease’ sign was taped across the shopfront window and, when Seth leaned in to peer more closely, he could see that the area had been cleared of furniture, leaving just a few electric cords dangling from sockets. The walls were completely bare, apart from marks left by frames or sticky tape, and the floor was covered by an ancient, very worn grey carpet that looked badly in need of a clean.
‘If you’re looking for help from that lot, you’re out of luck.’
Seth turned to find a young woman standing beside him. She was dressed in black, the colour the majority of Melbourne folk seemed to prefer, and she had short, spiky, bright aqua hair and at least six piercings in her left earlobe. She carried an enormous polka-dot umbrella, now closed, that was also dripping onto the floor.
‘Stringtech closed down a few months back,’ the girl said, following his gaze through the window.
‘I was afraid that must be the story.’ But Seth had always been an optimist. Already, he was telling himself that the Stringtech start-up had been so successful they’d moved to a bigger office, possibly on the top floor of some impressive skyscraper.
He offered the young woman a hopeful smile. ‘I don’t suppose you know where they’ve moved to?’
She shook her head. ‘Poor buggers went bust. They’ve scattered to the four winds.’
Did this mean Polly had lost her job?
Dismayed, Seth frowned. ‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’ He supposed he had no choice now, but to give up on finding Polly. But he couldn’t help asking, ‘So you knew the people who worked here?’
‘Sort of. My shop’s a few doors down, but these guys were all computer geeks and I’m a hairdresser, so we didn’t have a whole lot in common.’ With that, she grinned at him. ‘Was there anyone in particular you wanted to see?’
Seth almost didn’t bother to tell her. There seemed little point, but her manner was so friendly, he might as well try. ‘I was hoping to catch up with Polly Martin.’
‘Polly? Oh, wow!’ The girl’s grin broadened. ‘How—’ Rather cheekily now, she let her gaze travel slowly over Seth. ‘How interesting.’
‘Polly and I are old friends,’ he felt compelled to explain. ‘From way back. From our schooldays.’
‘Right.’ She managed to sound as if she only half believed him.
Ignoring this reaction, he said, ‘So you know Polly?’
‘Yes, I do, actually. I’m her hairdresser. I’ve been cutting her hair for years.’
Seth recalled Polly’s visit to Wirralong last year, pictured her pale oval face and the black-rimmed spectacles that had made her look serious and scholarly, and her shiny dark hair, skilfully styled into a bob that curved just below her jawline. ‘Are you still in contact with Polly?’ he asked.
‘Sure. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen her, but yep, we’ve kept in touch.’
How is she? he wanted to ask.Is she pregnant? Has she found another job?
To Seth’s surprise, the hairdresser gave him a broad smile. ‘Are you going to make contact with Polly? I reckon she’d love to see you.’
