Page 40 of Matilda’s Summer of New Beginnings

‘Embarrassed? About what?’ I was stunned. I started to feel the self-confidence I’d had when I walked in tonight evaporating. Was she being an utter, utter bitch?

‘Oh crap.’ Polly said, her eyes widening as she realized what she’d said. ‘I’m so sorry — maybe I should clarify why I noticed your style.’

‘Feel free.’ I was a bit huffed. I sat up straighter and folded my hands primly into my lap.

‘I noticed it, because I — well, I love it. That’s it.’ She shrugged. ‘I can’t think if you look like you belong to the fifties, the sixties, the seventies or a bit of them all. Do you know Edie?’

‘Edie? Yes. I do.’

‘Okay. So you’ll know that she’s firmly in the sixties camp?’

A mental picture of Edie at Jay’s birthday party came into my mind — short, blonde hair pulled into a stubby little ponytail with dark roots; black biker boots; tartan mini skirt; black polo-neck sweater; chandelier earrings; black eyeliner to rival even my flicks . . .

‘Yes. Absolutely,’ I said, failing to see where this was going.

‘But you look like a bit of everything. And, I was wondering if I could ask you for some help.’

‘Help?’ I really was lost now.

‘Yeah. You see, it’s like this. It’s Jay—’

Ah. Here we were. ‘Jay?’ I knew my voice was quite icy, and really, I had no claim on him, so why was I jealous that Polly—

‘Yes. He’s — well, he’s been . . .’ She took a deep breath. ‘He’s been teaching me to sing.’

‘What?’ I couldn’t help it. It came out as a strangled squeak. That was the last thing I’d expected to hear. Polly herself looked rather shocked at my little outburst and physically drew back a little.

I took a deep breath and tried to clarify. ‘Sorry. I mean, I knew Jay taught singing, but I thought he taught little children?’

‘Oh!’ Polly relaxed a little, and she even attempted a smile again. ‘Yes. He usually does teach little ones, but he heard me singing in the tea room one day. I didn’t think anyone was in, and I had Fleetwood Mac at full blast on the music system so I didn’t hear the doorbell go and was belting out “Go Your Own Way”. Anyway. Once I’d stopped dying of embarrassment, he said it sounded really good and I should go in for the Padcock’s Got Talent show.’ She blushed a bright red. The perils, I thought, of having ginger hair. ‘I wasn’t really sure, as I’ve got some real issues with the way I look and stuff.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘I mean, my legs are too skinny, and I’m too tall and there’s loads of other things I hate, and I’m just happier hiding away. But then I saw you, and I wondered if you could help me find something to wear. Jay’s really brought out my confidence with singing — and if I can do it without looking like me, I’ll be more comfortable.’

For a moment I was utterly speechless.

‘Okay,’ I said slowly. ‘Well. That was the very last thing I’d expected to hear from you, so . . .’

‘Yeah.’ Polly looked down and started interlinking her fingers. ‘I guess it was. Sorry. I just thought I’d ask. Really sorry for bothering you. Okay. That’s fine. Thanks anyway—’

‘No! I didn’t mean it like that.’ I put my hand on her wrist. ‘I’ll be happy to help. It’s something fun to do. It’s all been a bit rubbish at home, so it’ll be nice to have something fun to think about.’ I smiled at her tentatively, and she smiled back. I realized I still didn’t know if she was in love with Jay or not. I wondered how she could possibly resist him if she’d heard him singing.

‘Thanks Matilda. What — um — what do I need to do?’

I studied her for a moment or two. ‘You could start by telling me which songs you’re planning on singing?’

‘Oh! Of course.’ She brightened up. ‘I’ve been practising these — “Landslide”, “Songbird” and “Go Your Own Way”. Jay said I should do one on the stage, and keep two in my back pocket in case I win and have to do an encore. I know it’s unlikely, but I can see his point. Also, I like the songs, so I don’t mind singing them anyway.’

‘Nice choices.’ I nodded. They were my favourite Fleetwood Mac songs by a mile. ‘No — um — duets?’

‘What? With Jay?’

That was exactly what I’d implied. I’m not an angel and I couldn’t ask her outright what her intentions were with Jay, but this was a way to sort of find out . . .

‘Yes. With Jay.’ I fixed her with a Look that usually worked on Rosie and made her spill any beans she’d been hiding.

Surprisingly, the Look worked with Polly as well.

‘Oh gosh, no.’ She pulled a face and shook her head emphatically. ‘For a start, he scares me when he sings because he’s so bloody good, and secondly, I want that stage to myself because . . .’ Here, she surprised me again by grinning broadly. ‘I kind of want to impress Owen . . . from the bookshop.’ She added in response to my blank face.

‘Owen from the bookshop?’ I repeated.