Page 29 of His Best Friend's Baby

She could see Seth inside the shed, dressed in his dark blue overalls, sleeves rolled back to his elbows, his muscular forearms streaked with grease. She remembered how she used to tease him when they were in high school, calling him ‘grease monkey’.

Back in those days, she’d privately scorned Seth’s lack of ambition—he’d been clever and could have been a doctor, lawyer or anything he liked really. Polly hadn’t understood why he’d chosen to follow in his father’s footsteps and stay in Wirralong, running the service station.

But now that she’d spent time with Seth again, she realised that he’d used his talents wisely. Not only had he enjoyed work that suited him, but he’d taken on creative projects that he loved and that stretched him in ways she could never have imagined. Seth had made the right choices.

And at this very moment, he was standing in his workshop with his back to the street and his concentration was entirely focused on what must have been a vehicle’s engine, hanging from chains above him. Momentarily, Polly contemplated scurrying past, but then she felt guilty.

She couldn’t just run away. She couldn’t do that to Seth. Not after everything he’d done for her.

Swallowing a sudden flurry of nerves, she took a few steps towards the open doorway. ‘Seth.’

He turned quickly and his eyes widened when he saw her. ‘Hey, Pollz.’

Now that she was face to face with him, the prospect of leaving him was drained of its appeal. But that was the reaction Polly had feared and it was actually why she needed to get away. She couldn’t afford to be sucked into a fantasy where she didn’t belong.

‘I—I’m on my way to the bus station,’ she told him. ‘I’ve left a note explaining everything.’

She saw the flare of shock in Seth’s eyes, but as he came closer, using a rag to wipe at the grease on his hands, his gaze was narrowed and assessing, rather like a detective in a TV show trying to understand a criminal.

‘So, you’re off,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re determined to do the bus thing?’

‘Yes, I am, Seth.’ Polly swallowed, telling herself she shouldn’t feel so nervous. After all, she wasn’t a criminal. She was a perfectly law-abiding, rational woman who was making a sensible decision to reclaim her independence. ‘I knew you were busy, so I’ve left you a note at the house.’

‘Right. Okay then.’ Stiff jawed, Seth looked away quickly, staring hard at something in the distance. His chest expanded and contracted and he may have sighed. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always going to tread your own path.’

As he said this, Polly was momentarily distracted by a memory of the two of them in Year Twelve, mulling over an English project. They’d both been intrigued by Robert Frost’s poemThe Road Not Takenand Seth had read the closing lines aloud.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less travelled by,

And that has made all the difference.

‘That’s me,’ Polly had said at the time. ‘I’ll be on the road less travelled.’

Seth had laughed at her and told her poetry wasn’t some kind of fortune telling.

Just the same…

Hastily, she wrenched her thoughts back to the present. To this uncomfortable farewell. ‘I don’t want you to think I haven’t appreciated everything you’ve done for me,’ she said. ‘You’ve been beyond amazing, Seth. You’ve done way more than I ever could have dreamed—for me and for Summer. I owe you so much.’

‘You don’t owe me anything, Polly.’ He gave a slow shake of his head. ‘And just for the record, it’s called friendship. And that doesn’t need repayment.’

He came even closer now and Polly folded the edge of the muslin sling back, so he had a good view of Summer, asleep with one little hand curled under her chin.

‘So innocent,’ he said gently. ‘And I’m covered in grease, so I won’t touch her. You’ll have to give her a goodbye hug from me.’

‘Sure.’ Polly could hear the break in her voice. This wasn’t supposed to be so hard.

‘And you’ll have to imagine I’ve given you a hug, too.’ Seth gave Polly a smiling wink as he said this, but somehow his smile seemed sad.

Damn him. Polly tried for an answering smile and missed by a mile, and now she was the one who needed to look away.

‘But I should warn you,’ Seth was saying next. ‘I’ll come to that bloody bus terminal and block the doorway if you don’t promise me you’ll keep in touch.’

The sudden fierceness in his voice was a surprise. Polly blinked.

‘You have to let me know how you and Summer are getting on,’ he said. ‘Don’t leave me hanging like this bloody motor.’ He cocked a thumb up to the machinery suspended rather menacingly by chains from a gantry behind him.

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