'No, no, I don't mean it that way we've got years and years ahead of us. But she's barely finished school. I can't bear for it all to be taken away from her.'

'But times have changed, haven't they? She could take the baby away with her they have creches and whatnot and grants and things to help girls like her.'

Polly didn't like the way he said 'girls like her'. 'But she wouldn't need to if I had the baby. She could do it all properly.'

Jack looked at her. 'Is this about Cressida or is it about you?'

Polly felt herself getting impatient. 'It's about both of us. Sure, I wish things had been different for me, but when you become a mother the things that have or haven't happened to you stop being so important. It's all about them. I'm not trying to make up for my mother, or anything like that, if that's what you're saying.'

She was angry now. He wasn't understanding. He was taking something that felt pure and right and sane and making it sound disturbed and wrong. She tried another tack. 'Suppose she goes off with this Elliot, and gets married?'

'Like you did?'

He almost threw it back. Verbal squash. This wasn't like Jack. 'Yes, exactly. Like I did. Even if it worked, and I doubt very much that it would, it would be so hard for her she'd have to give up everything she's wanted, change her life completely.'

'But she wants the baby, Poll. Maybe she even wants Elliot. Why are you so sure that it couldn't work?'

BECAUSE I WON'T LET IT, she screamed, inside her own head. 'Because it's all wrong. He's wrong for her I can see that. It wouldn't last, and then she'd have a broken marriage as well as a baby and no proper education to contend with.'

Jack put a hand on hers. 'Don't you think you might be being a bit, well, melodramatic about all this? You make her sound like some tragic Thomas Hardy heroine.'

Polly pulled away her hand. 'Don't make a joke out of this, Jack.'

'I'm not trying to make a joke out of it, sweetheart. I just think you've got way, way ahead of yourself. I think you think you need to "rescue" Cressida, not just help her. You're on some kind of crusade.'

His eyes and tone were loving. He was trying to make sense of it and, she could see, failing.

This wasn't what she had wanted. She had wanted expected Jack to fold her in his arms and murmur into her hair that, yes, of course they could cope with a baby together, and that he would be there for her, and, maybe, love her just that bit more because she wanted to do it. He wasn't saying any of that, but he didn't want to fight with her. He was still calm, still gentle.

He took his gla.s.s to the far end of the room and looked out of the window at the back garden, still bright with the orange glow of the evening. 'I've never told you much about my first marriage, have I?' He hadn't volunteered, and she had never asked.

Polly believed in second chances. And new lives. She knew he had been divorced years ago, and that there had been no one serious until her. He had said no one else was involved. 'About why we split up?'

'You said you'd drifted apart.'

'And that was true. Except that "drifted" is maybe too gentle a word. Anna left me.'

'I didn't know.' She didn't even know she'd been called Anna.

'Why would you? It was a long time ago, and I've stopped being hurt by it. Although I was never glad it had ended until I met you.'

Polly smiled. She loved the feeling that she had turned his life round.

'Was there someone else?' She couldn't think why he would have kept that from her.

Jack smiled. 'No. We were quite young when we met. We both had grand ideas, elaborate plans we were going to see the world, make a difference, you know. I was going to use my law degree for good, for Chrissakes.' He smirked. 'Standard Miss World fodder, it sounds now, but it was the seventies and we were kids.'

She and Dan had been like that once, before Cressida, Polly remembered.

'She changed. I suppose we both changed in the end. But she changed first. One day she realised that she wanted all the things I thought we both hated. A big house, two cars on the drive and kids. She really wanted kids, although we'd always said we'd never have them. And I never did. That's pretty much why she left me in the end. I gave in about the house and the job, and we even had two sodding cars and a b.l.o.o.d.y fortnight in the South of France once a year. But I never wanted the children she wanted to go with it all.'

'Why not? You'd have made a great father.'

Jack waved aside the cliche. 'No, I wouldn't. I'm a selfish man, deep down.' Polly shook her head, tried to interrupt. She didn't recognise the man he was talking about. 'I am, believe me. I never wanted to share her. I never wanted things to change. I don't want to share you.'

'That's a long time ago, though, Jack.'

'I haven't changed.'

'What about Cressida and Daniel?'

'I met you, and I fell like a stone. I didn't even find out about Cressida and Daniel until it was too late.'

Polly laughed nervously. 'Are you saying you wouldn't have got involved with me if you'd known about the kids?'

He leant towards her, although he didn't trust himself enough to come across the room and touch her.

'What I'm saying is that it probably mattered to me that the kids were nearly grown-up, nearly gone. I knew I'd have you to myself before too long.'

Polly was shocked. Now Jack came towards her. 'Don't get me wrong.' Now he wanted her to understand him as much as she wanted him to understand her. 'I love them, really I do. At least, I'm starting to, without even trying. Daniel and Cress they're great. Really. I even think I was getting used to the idea of being a stepfather, you know, really being involved in their lives. I like being here with you all. A family.'

'But just not that involved.' Polly knew she sounded unkind, but she couldn't help herself.

Jack rubbed his head. 'That's not fair. You're talking about something different. You're asking me to be a father, in effect.' Polly shook her head. 'Yes, yes, you are.' Jack was firm. 'I don't know if I can do that.'

Polly looked him straight in the eye. He caught the implication. 'Not even for you.'

'I do know that I have to do this if she'll let me.'

Checkmate.

She wouldn't beg him. She wouldn't tell him that if he loved her he would be able to do this for her. She knew it wasn't that simple. He did love her. It wasn't going to be enough. She was suddenly afraid. What the h.e.l.l happened to boy meets girl and they live happily ever after? Polly wondered.

Jack kissed her when he left, a kiss full of sadness and tenderness. She had clung to him, but said nothing. She hadn't really known then how they had left it.

But now as she sat in the dark on the sofa, she knew that she was alone again.

Polly and Susan 'I don't understand,' Susan was saying. Things had changed so much since the reading club's last meeting. That night had been good. They'd had one of the best discussions yet, and a nice evening besides.

Polly had seemed fine then, like everything was sorting itself out with Cressida. She'd even seemed excited, talking babies with Harriet and Nicole, laughing about being called Granny. She and Jack had set the date for the wedding, at Christmas. She and Susan had talked about finding a day to go shopping together for something for her to wear. Susan had been busy since then with daily visits to Alice and the boys flitting in and out with their insatiable appet.i.tes and endless laundry, and she hadn't called Polly as often as she usually did, and now she was confused. Polly hadn't known at the reading club in June, about Elliot. She supposed that changed everything. Although she wasn't sure why. Maybe Polly had felt more in control when she thought Joe was the father. Now that she knew he wasn't, maybe she was frightened she was going to lose Cressida. But what had that to do with Jack? How could it be over between Polly and Jack so suddenly? Susan's instinctive, characteristic reaction was guilt had she not been a good friend? She knew it had been right to tell Polly about Elliot. What other choice had she had? She reminded herself that Polly hadn't called her either.

Tonight was their regular date, at the Italian, and it was crowded with people spilling out into the courtyard on a still, close July night, sitting bare shouldered and open necked at the tables under fairy lights, with candles in hurricane lamps flickering around them. Susan had booked too late to be outside she had forgotten the date until that morning and they were at the table towards the back, where the owners had used huge mirrors to make the narrowing of the restaurant towards the kitchen less obvious. She could see them both now in the mirrors. They looked tired and pale, despite the season, and about ten years older, she thought, than the last time they had been here. Something like depression settled about her, tinged with a new worry about Polly. When you had a busy life and a crowded head, you sometimes ticked off boxes next to the names of people and things you cared about. Made them like the juggling b.a.l.l.s in your perpetual circus act that you didn't have to keep an eye on at any particular time. Things you didn't have to worry about, not just now. Alex was ticked, he was on holiday with his good-natured crowd of medical-student friends. Ed was ticked, because he'd just been home for an overhaul, as Roger called it. Polly had been ticked off, too. Now she felt she might not have checked the status for too long.

Any parting had not been of her making, Susan could see that. She looked forlorn. A bottle of Chianti and two platefuls of doughb.a.l.l.s later, the story had spilled out, punctuated by stealthy tears, some anger, and 'You understand, don't you?'

Polly had decided she wanted to look after the baby for Cressida while she went about having the normal life of a twenty-year-old student and for Jack to help her. Jack couldn't handle it. And she did understand. And she didn't. Susan didn't know what to tell her friend, who, incidentally, didn't seem to have talked to Cressida about her plan.

'I thought I'd wait until after the baby's born.'

'Do you think that's a good idea? Wouldn't it be easier for Cress and you, for that matter to make an objective decision about what's best for all of you if you talk about it beforehand?'

'Maybe.' Susan could see that Polly was considering what she said. 'But until the baby comes, she won't have the first clue about what's involved in taking care of it, the way it affects everything.'

'And you think understanding that will make her more likely to hand it over to you?'

'I don't know. But you sound like Jack. I don't want her to "hand it over". This isn't about control, Suze, I promise you. This isn't for me you of all people should understand. Wouldn't you want to do this for the boys?'

Susan thought about it. She knew what Polly meant, of course. She couldn't think of a mother she knew who wouldn't feel the impulse. She wanted to do it for Alice, let alone the boys. Take care of it, shoulder it all, make everything all right. She also knew that what Roger had said was right. You couldn't. 'I might want to, I can see that, but that doesn't mean it's the right thing to do. Anyway, I can't imagine Cress saying yes. It just doesn't sound like her.'

'I'll make her understand. She'll be the mother, she will always be that. I just want to help with the practical bit until she's ready to do it on her own.'

'Had you thought about how you'd afford to do what you're talking about?' Did that sound patronising? Polly did all right for money, Susan knew. Dan was good at his fatherly responsibilities, and Polly was very good at her job.

'Of course.' Polly's face told her she had been patronising. 'I've been at Smith, March and May for donkey's years and the least they can do is give me a few months' leave. I know Dan would help out he wants the best for Cress as well.'

'Okay, so that's a few months and a bit of kit sorted out. What then?'

'I wasn't expecting Jack to fork out, if that's what you're thinking.' Polly was afraid she sounded more defensive than she felt. She couldn't bear Susan being the second person in a row who didn't understand what she wanted to do.

Susan didn't rise to the bait. 'I know, Polly. It never crossed my mind. But you do have a plan?'

'Well, yes, of course. He or she would have to go into a day-care creche and there's one not far from the office. One of the other girls at work has a daughter there. We'd be the same as any other family.'

'But isn't that what Cressida would be doing with the baby?'

'No.' Polly shook her head vehemently. 'It's not the hours between nine and five that make a parent, Suze. You know that as well as I do. It's the nights and the evenings, the mornings and weekends and all the other times when they aren't in the creche, the lion's share of their lives.'

'That's true,' Susan conceded.

'And those are the times that I want Cress to be free. Not just for the lectures and the tutorials there's so much more to college than that. Look at what Alex and Ed get up to... That's what she'd be missing out on. And you know Cress.'

Susan felt as if she didn't really know Cressida at all now. She knew the Cressida who had gone out with a boy called Joe. He had always seemed a sweet guy, and he had been devoted to Cressida since Susan couldn't remember when. Well, she could. Since they used to sit together, but a whole person's width apart, on Polly's sofa after school, watching Grange Hill and holding hands, adorably chaste and childish.

She knew that Cressida was a bit wild, had her funny ways about her, but an affair with a married man? A man they all knew, if only vicariously, through the reading club. And that she had become pregnant. That still seemed to Susan the province of silly girls, often from broken families, either ignorant or horribly misguided. She knew Polly and Dan weren't together, but she couldn't bring herself to think of the home as broken, of their family as dysfunctional. And Cressida was a clever girl too clever for this b.l.o.o.d.y awful mess.

Susan wanted to be a good friend to Polly, and to Cressida, but infidelity didn't sit well with her. She had married for life, and expected Roger to have done the same. She'd be furious with the boys if they cheated on girlfriends or wives. She didn't like even the simplest forms of dishonesty and deceit. But she wasn't naive, and she had seen a lot. She knew that the success of her marriage was only partly down to effort. The rest was luck, and she and Roger had had that in spades. Not only did they still fancy each other after all these years, which she viewed, particularly on Roger's side, as a miracle she seemed physically, emotionally, in every way different from the girl he had fallen in love with all those years ago but, and this was far more significant, life hadn't pushed any tragedy in their path. Who could say, without any doubt, that their happy marriage could survive a real tragedy? Susan certainly considered childlessness to be that: the boys were everything to her, as were Cressida and Dan to Polly. She couldn't blame either Cressida or Elliot entirely for what had happened. Suppose Elliot wanted to make a go of it with Cressida? Wasn't that option open to them? She was afraid Polly was still treating Cressida like a child, not acknowledging the ma.s.sive leap towards adulthood that she was about to take, and not caring, particularly, with whom she might want to take it.

'Does everyone know, now, about the baby being Elliot's?'

Polly bristled at his name. 'Pretty much, I think.'

'And Jack?'

'And Jack. I saw him the day after you told me.'

'Before you asked him if he'd help you look after the baby?'

It grated with Polly to hear it put that way, but that was exactly what she'd asked Jack to do.

'Yep.'

'And it was this looking-after-the-baby question that made Jack walk away?'

'I suppose so, yeah. It all got a bit messy for him. I think he'd probably been trying hard to take it all on board the baby and Dan and everything, and this was, like, the straw on the camel's back, you know. I think my baggage got a bit too heavy for him.'

She didn't sound angry she wasn't even trying to blame him just sad. Susan saw her love for him all across her face.

'How have you left things with him?' Susan asked.

'I don't know. He said he couldn't handle it, and then he went. I haven't heard from him since.'

'Do you want me to call him, have a chat?'

Polly smiled at her friend. That was so Susan. 'Thanks, really. But I don't think so. Better to find out now than later. I should never have got myself into it in the first place. I blame you.' And she laughed. 'You said I should say yes!' Susan wasn't fooled. She knew Polly loved Jack, and was pretty sure Jack loved Polly. That this business with Cressida was going to get between them and ruin them seemed, to her, very much like another tragedy.

She put her arm round Polly. 'I'm sorry,' she said.

'Me too,' Polly replied.

Susan got brave, then. 'You don't think, do you, that maybe there's a future for the two of them Elliot and Cressida?'

'I don't know. I hope not. I can't tell you why, I just know it's not the right thing for her. I know it. And that's why I can't ask her before it's born. I can't get in the way, not if that's what she wants. Not if he's what she wants. I have to wait for her to come to me, tell me what she's feeling. And I don't think, right now, that she has the first idea of what that is.'

Later, after they had salvaged the evening, with tiramisu, an Amaretto with coffee and talk about everything except Cressida, Elliot and Jack, when they were walking arm in arm along the road to the taxi rank at the top of town, Susan said, 'I do think you ought to think about talking to Cressida before the baby comes, if you're serious.'

'I'm deadly serious, Suze. This can work. When I had decided that was what I should do, I felt like the clouds had parted everything felt like it was the right decision.'

'Even if it costs you Jack.'

'Even if it costs me Jack. You're a mum, Suze. Wouldn't you throw Roger into the path of a runaway train to save Ed and Alex?'

Susan laughed. She wouldn't have put it that way, but she knew what Polly meant.

'I'd throw Dan.'

'You'd throw Dan in the path of a runaway train for sport, not for the kids! Admit it.'

Now Polly was laughing, even if tears weren't far away. 'Okay, you're right. I'd throw Jack. For Cressida. That's it.'

She'd got it worked out. Susan wondered what Cressida would say, and hoped Polly wouldn't lose out in both ways.

Before they parted, Polly turned to her. 'I'm sorry I haven't asked about Alice all night. What a selfish cow. How is she?'

'She's not great. Nothing dramatic to report. She's just slowly, inexorably shutting down. There isn't anything we can do.'

'Oh, Suze.'

'I'm getting used to it. I'm okay. I've been going a bit less often lately. You and Roger were right there's no point as far as Mum's concerned and, my G.o.d, it depresses the h.e.l.l out of me.'