Page 9 of His Best Friend's Baby

‘Polly confirmed that you’re old friends,’ she’d said. ‘And I decided I might as well give you her phone number and address, just in case—well, in case she doesn’t call you. As you probably know, Polly can be a bit stubborn and proud, but I still reckon she needs cheering up.’

When Polly didn’t respond to Seth’s second knock, he phoned her, rather than calling out and attracting the attention of her neighbours. He half-expected that she wouldn’t bother to pick up the phone, but to his relief she answered.

‘Go away, Seth.’

Not the best of starts. ‘Polly, I need to talk to you.’

‘No, you don’t. I’m okay. I’m fine.’

‘I’m pleased to hear that, but I’m not.’

After a beat of silence. ‘You’re not okay? What’s the matter, Seth? What’s happened?’

‘How can I be okay when one of my oldest friends is locking me out, simply because I want to talk to her?’

A heavy sigh sounded in his ear. ‘Did Celia put you up to this?’

‘She gave me your address, but only after she checked with you that I wasn’t some kind of weirdo stalker.’

Now there was a longer stretch of silence. Seth tried a different tack. ‘Listen, Pollster, I’m not in town for long and I was hoping to ask you out.’

‘Out?’ She made it sound like a prison break. ‘Where do you want to go?’

‘Anywhere that serves a decent steak.’

Abracadabra. Clearly, he’d said the magic word. Now, Polly’s door opened, but it was still just a crack. ‘A steak would be great,’ she said and she sounded quieter, maybe even penitent. Seth thought he caught the slightest hint of a sheepish smile. ‘I won’t invite you in, though,’ she said. ‘I need to get changed. Can you give me five minutes?’

Seth would give her five minutes, ten minutes—thirty if she needed them. He had no idea what arrangement she’d made with her baby’s father, but the brief glimpse he’d caught of her living quarters had bothered the hell out of him. Damn it, she didn’t deserve to have landed in this mess.

Regrets were never useful, but Seth wished he hadn’t overreacted last year when Polly had come to Wirralong. If he’d gone ahead with her crazy IVF plan, she might have relaxed her rigid rules. Who knew? If he’d played his cards right, she might even be living comfortably in Wirralong where he could at least have kept an eye on her.

A voice in his head argued.You reckon? Come on, dude, how clear did she make it that she didn’t want you in her life?

This was true, of course, and by now they might have been at each other’s throats.

Or not.

While he waited, the arguments went round and round.

*

Polly only hadone maternity dress that she deemed decent enough to wear to a restaurant—a black, woollen Mama Muse tunic that she’d found in an op shop. When she teamed it with a long-sleeved, black-and-grey-striped T-shirt, black leggings and ankle boots, it didn’t look too bad. Not that anything looked good when you were eight months pregnant.

Luckily, she had washed her hair earlier in the day, so it was clean and shining. Her hair was quite long now, as she’d let it grow past her shoulders, to save on haircuts, and she decided to sweep it up into a loose knot. Lately, she hadn’t bothered much with jewellery, but she still had her favourite, silver hoop earrings and these might give her a small confidence boost, which was something she sadly needed. At the last minute, she also decided to wear her contact lenses instead of her specs.

She wasn’t the slightest bit sad about turning off the soup, but she felt nervous as she opened her door again. Seth was still waiting and the complicated emotions that showed on his face when he saw her almost made her cry.

Polly blamed her hormones.

*

‘So, when’s yourbaby due?’ Seth asked, once they were in his vehicle and whizzing along lanes of heavy traffic into the city.

Polly was grateful he hadn’t dived straight into quizzing her about Stringtech’s collapse or the apartment she’d lost. She was much happier talking about the baby. ‘Four weeks to go,’ she told him.

‘Not long.’

‘No.’ It was hard to believe that the end of her pregnancy was now in sight. Such difficult months they’d been, although the problems were only on the work front, fortunately. Polly’s healthily growing bump and the baby’s increasingly vigorous movements had been the one joyous thing happening in her life.

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