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‘Yes,’ Polly said. ‘Yes, sure. That’s fine, thanks. I remember him.’
‘He seemed really concerned about you.’
‘Really? What did you tell him?’
‘Nothing, Pollz. Well, only that Stringtech had gone bust. But that was obvious, given that the office space is still totally bare. Nothing personal about you, though. Sorry if I said too much. I thought he seemed the real deal.’
‘Yes, he is. He’s an old friend from schooldays.’
‘Right. Phew. You had me worried there for a moment. So would you like his phone number?’
‘Yes, please. Fire away.’ Polly was pretty sure Seth’s phone number hadn’t changed, but it was easier to let Celia pass it on than to try to explain.
Her friend rattled off the number, exactly as Polly remembered it. ‘I thought he looked like fun,’ Celia said and Polly could hear the smile in her voice. ‘I thought he might cheer you up.’
‘Yeah, well—thanks for thinking of me.’
‘Polly, are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Of course. Why do you ask?’
‘You just sound a bit different.’
‘No, I’m fine. Thanks for passing on Seth’s number.’
Polly disconnected and set her phone on the little table she used as a desk. She couldn’t imagine why Seth might be looking for her and she was desperately curious to know his reason. But she certainly didn’t feel brave enough to phone him. Not when she was still hit by flashes of red-hot embarrassment whenever she thought about the last time they’d spoken.
She’d handled that night so badly. It might have turned out perfectly, if she hadn’t been so headstrong and inflexible. And now she was at rock bottom. Unemployed, pregnant and almost homeless.
When Stringtech had gone belly-up, thanks to a series of very poor decisions her boss had made, Polly had found it really hard to jump into another job. It didn’t help that she’d been named as a partner in Stringtech, even though the partnership had been a mere formality on paper rather than an actual business deal. Other new start-ups were nervous about the slightest whiff of failure.
It also hadn’t helped that any money Polly once might have inherited from her dad had gone straight to his new wife, Mariah, and her three children from her previous marriage. Polly was pretty sure this hadn’t been quite what her father had intended, but she hadn’t had the heart to contest the will.
Of course, the IVF treatment had cost a bomb. Polly might have been more cautious if she’d dreamed she might lose her steady pay cheque. She had only managed without a wage for a matter of months before she’d felt compelled to sell her lovely, two-bedroom apartment. Sadly, after she’d cleared the bank mortgage, she’d been left with little more than her original deposit. But that was now her nest egg and she was trying to hoard as much of it as possible. Which meant renting the most modest accommodation she could find.
She would be mortified if Seth discovered the sorry state she’d sunk to. A girl had her pride, after all.
With a heavy sigh, Polly turned back to the vegetables on the chopping board. Onions, carrots and celery were waiting to be lightly browned in olive oil, and she had a couple of chicken thighs that she would add, before putting in the water and stock cube. She might prefer chicken breast, but thighs were cheaper and they shredded okay into soup and would provide protein for her evening meal. Her baby needed protein and, although a vegetarian diet might be better for the planet, Polly was tired of beans and chickpeas.
As soon as the soup was simmering, she would get back to work on her laptop. These days, she was working as a sole trader, picking up small jobs here and there, and her workspace was a tiny table squeezed into a corner of a poky little kitchenette in a teeny studio flat.
Along the opposite wall was her bed, which, for her morale’s sake, she tried to make look like a sofa during the day, covering it with a striped throw rug and cushions. She was horribly uncomfortable living and working in such a tight space, especially now that she was thirty-six weeks pregnant, but at least she had a roof over her head.
And the baby wouldn’t take up too much room for the first few months.
After that?
Polly gritted her teeth. After that, she would have no choice. She would have to move to better accommodation, which meant she had just twenty-eight days to build up her client base so she could continue to work from home.
Chapter Three
Even before Sethknocked on Polly’s door, he was worried. He’d seen the graffiti and overflowing rubbish bins in the narrow, treeless streets beneath the tower block where she lived. He’d smelled the stale air in the lift as it creaked slowly upwards. He’d walked the narrow, not very clean corridors.
Now, as Polly answered his knock, she only opened the door a mere crack, but he could see she looked anxious. Her eyes widened with shock when she recognised him and then, without a word, she slammed the door shut again.
But Seth had seen enough. That brief glimpse had shown him her cramped living quarters. And her massively pregnant belly.
Shocked and dismayed, he knocked again. The hairdresser, Celia, had warned him that Polly might be difficult. No surprise there, of course, but he was grateful Celia had at least phoned him back.
