he fall in love and run the risk of being let down. Oh, he would love Joseph and love him enough to make up for the fact that the boy didn’t have a mother, but he wouldn’t give his heart to anyone ever again. Was he really prepared to change all that, to open himself up to more heartache?
Elliot took a deep breath then switched on the computer. He would write up his case notes and then he would go home. Home to his son, the only person he needed, the only person he would ever love.
POLLY WAS JUST heating some soup for Joseph’s lunch when she heard a car drawing up outside. The morning had flown past as she and Joseph had found various things to do. It turned out that he was an accomplished artist and he had spent some time in the garden drawing a picture of the surrounding countryside. Polly had helped him manoeuvre his chair outside, no easy task as the ground was rather rough. She intended to mention it to Elliot before she left. Now she glanced around when she heard his footsteps coming along the hall.
‘Good timing. I’ve just heated some soup for lunch. There’s enough for two so sit yourself down while I fetch Joseph. He’s outside, finishing off his picture.’
‘Outside?’ Elliot’s expression darkened as he glanced towards the garden. ‘It’s far too cold for him to be out there.’
‘Nonsense,’ Polly said firmly. ‘It’s a beautiful day and the fresh air will do him good. It’s far better than spending the day in front of a television screen, if you want my opinion.’
‘I don’t. I shall decide what’s best for Joseph, and sitting outside in the cold is the last thing he should be doing.’
He didn’t say another word as he strode out of the back door. Polly pulled a face at his retreating back, not caring if it was childish. There was something about Elliot Grey that seemed to bring out the worst in her. She spooned the soup into bowls and set them on the table then took a loaf of bread out of the bread bin. There was butter in the fridge and she put that on the table as well. She had just finished when Joseph came whizzing back into the kitchen and came straight over to her to show her the picture he had drawn.
‘I’ve finished it, Polly. What do you think?’ he asked eagerly.
‘That you are one very talented little boy.’ Bending down, she gave him a hug. ‘I absolutely love it, Joseph. It’s brilliant, isn’t it, Elliot?’ she added, glancing up in time to see the strangest expression cross Elliot’s face. The best way to describe it was a kind of wistful sadness, although it disappeared so fast that she found herself wondering if she had imagined it.
‘Yes, it is. Although, as I said before, Joseph should never have been allowed to sit outside in the first place.’
Joseph’s face fell. He didn’t say anything else as he manoeuvred his chair next to the table, but Polly could tell how disappointed he was by his father’s reaction. Had Elliot really needed to spoil the moment for him by saying that? she thought angrily. It was on the tip of her tongue to remonstrate with him but she knew it would be wrong to say anything in front of Joseph and risk upsetting him even more. She settled instead for pouring Joseph a drink of juice and switching on the kettle, although Elliot could make his own coffee. She certainly didn’t intend to stick around and pander to him!
‘Right, I’ll leave you to it then.’ Polly picked up her coat, feeling her heart suddenly sink. Looking after Joseph had proved the perfect distraction but now she needed to think about what she was going to do. It was only midday and there was still time to catch the train to London; however, the thought of spending the coming week wandering around on her own wasn’t appealing, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t face going back to Martin’s parents’ house—it would be too awkward for all of them. There was always the cottage, of course, but she had no idea if Martin was planning to stay there once he came back home. Panic gripped her as the true precariousness of her situation hit her. She simply didn’t have anywhere to go!
* * *
Elliot wasn’t sure what was going on but there was definitely something wrong if the expression on Polly’s face was anything to go by. Even though he knew that he shouldn’t get involved, he couldn’t help himself. Walking around the table, he slid his hand under her elbow and steered her to a chair. ‘Sit down before you fall down,’ he said gruffly because acting the part of the Good Samaritan didn’t come easily to him. The kettle clicked itself off so he went to the counter and spooned instant coffee into a mug. ‘Sugar?’ he asked, his heart lurching when Polly stared blankly back at him.
‘Polly doesn’t take sugar,’ Joseph told him helpfully. ‘She just has milk in her coffee.’
‘Right. Thank you.’ Elliot smiled at his son and Joseph smiled back, making it clear that he had forgiven him for his over-the-top response before. It had been OTT too, Elliot admitted as he went to get the milk from the fridge. Although it was a bit chilly outside, Polly had been right to say that Joseph would gain more from being in the fresh air than being stuck in front of a television screen.
Elliot felt his hand start to shake as he added milk to the mug. It was the first time he had ever conceded that anyone else might be right when it came to what was best for Joseph and it unnerved him. Up till now he had been the one to make all the decisions concerning his son; he had been the one to make all the rules too. And yet here he was, admitting that this woman who he had met only that morning knew more than he did about what was good for Joseph.
The thought disturbed him so much that it was a miracle he didn’t spill the coffee as he took it over to the table. He had sworn that he would do his best for Joseph after he was born and that every decision he made would be in his son’s best interests too, but what if he had been fooling himself? What if the decisions he had made weren’t the best he could have taken? There was only him to make any decisions, after all. Marianna had made it clear from the outset that she’d wanted nothing to do with their child, not when, as she had put it, he was so hideously damaged. Elliot hadn’t realised before how much he would have liked to discuss the choices he’d had to make. He had simply done what he had thought was right, but what if he could have consulted someone else, someone like Polly, who saw the situation through fresh eyes?
Elliot took a deep breath, tamping down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. He mustn’t go down that route, no matter how tempting it was. As he knew to his cost, allowing people into his life was a recipe for disaster.
* * *
Polly felt her stomach churn as the smell of the coffee hit her. She swallowed hard, afraid that she would embarrass herself even more by throwing up. That Elliot had realised something was wrong was obvious and she hated to think that she was making a fool of herself, only she couldn’t help it.
Where was she going to live, not just now but in the future? Could she even remain in Beesdale or would she have to move somewhere else? Martin’s family were well-known in the town. Martin’s father had founded the local solicitor’s office, and Martin had gone to work there with him after he had finished university. The firm handled all the legal work in the area and both Martin and his father had a reputation for being completely honest and trustworthy. Although her brother, Peter, had decided that it would be better to tell everyone it had been a mutual decision to cancel the wedding, as Martin had suggested in his letter, would they believe that? After all, she and Martin had known each other for years and there was bound to be a lot of speculation as to why they had decided to call off the wedding at the very last moment. The thought of everyone finding out that Martin had left her for another woman was more than Polly could bear. The last thing she wanted was to be seen as an object of pity!
‘Here. Drink this.’
A large hand pushed the mug towards her and Polly jumped. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had forgotten where she was for a moment. Picking up the mug, she took a gulp of the coffee then gasped when it scalded her throat.
‘Careful!’
The same hand