‘In the kitchen,’ I say, and she makes her way down the hall.
‘Amanda not here yet?’ Janey is already taking a glass out of the cupboard when our phones buzz in unison. It’s Amanda in the WhatsApp group.
‘She’s on her way,’ I say. ‘Anyway, how were your last few days of half-term?’
‘I haven’t murdered the kids, if that’s what you mean?’
I give her a knowing look.
‘To be honest, it’s been nice. We went on a walk and I even got my two playing Monopoly – I think they’ve finally had enough of computer games.’
I smile but I get a pang. Since Mike and I split up, he’s had the kids during the holidays and I’ve missed that family holiday time so much. There’s nothing I can do about it though. I’m the one who lives near the school and can drop them off and pick them up each day.
‘Mine only got home today and I’ve resumed my position of chief nag.’
‘Oh, love, I know it’s not easy. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bang on about how much fun we’ve had.’
I wave my hand dismissively, ‘No, don’t apologise. It is what it is and the kids had a great time with their dad – that’s what matters in all of this. Anyway, I wanted to ask about you and Jimmy. Why didn’t you go out last night?’
She looks at her hands, which are both gripping the stem of the wine glass. ‘Is everything okay?’ I press gently.
She shrugs but doesn’t look up so I move closer and put my arm around her. ‘What is it? You can talk to me.’
‘He didn’t want to go.’ Her voice wobbles as she struggles with the words.
‘Oh, Janey. Why? Was it bad timing? It was short notice.’
She shakes her head. ‘He just said it wasn’t us and went off to the pub.’
The emotion in her voice sends pain through the depths of my stomach. I’ve never seen her so vulnerable before and it shows how we all have our weak spots. ‘Well, that’s not good enough.’
‘I don’t know what to do, Steph.’ She sniffs then whispers. ‘It doesn’t feel like a marriage anymore.’
‘Oh, honey.’ I squeeze her tightly and we stay like that for a good few minutes.
‘You need a frank chat with Jimmy. Tell him exactly what you want from him. Actually, tell him how you deserve to be treated.’
She goes to say something but the doorbell shrills and she wipes her eyes and heads to answer it.
‘Hello, book clubbers.’ Amanda breezes in like a rainbow in a thunderstorm, waving a bottle of Prosecco and a bag of posh crisps. She has her copy of Jane Eyre tucked under her arm and what looks like a sheet of notes stuffed in the pages.
‘You’ve come prepared,’ I say.
Her cheeks flush. ‘If I’m doing it, I want to do it properly.’
‘Right then.’ Janey gestures animatedly towards the lounge like none of that conversation we just had actually happened. ‘Shall we get started?’
We go through and take our seats. Amanda starts us off by telling us why she’d chosen the book and what she loves about it. Janey looks as though she’s drifted off but I’m too far away to nudge her.
‘I think it’s truly wonderful. It never fails to surprise me how strong a character Jane was for the era. She was certainly a fine, albeit early example of a strong feminist character, don’t you agree?’ Amanda’s question brings Janey back to the room.
‘It was a bit long-winded wasn’t it?’ Janey says.
‘It’s an epic love story; of course it was long-winded,’ Amanda says, failing to hide her exasperation.
‘I get that,’ Janey continues. ‘The one-night stand we’ve all had is an epic romance if you start telling the story from ten years old. So, I was ten and loved building dens, then I kissed a boy for a dare when I was fourteen, did my GCSEs and six years later got drunk and—’
‘I haven’t ever had a one-night stand,’ Amanda says.
Janey casts her a look of disbelief before continuing. ‘All I’m saying is: did we really need all that stuff about her childhood at the beginning?’
‘Yes, firstly, it made her into a stronger woman, and secondly, it all tied up in the end, didn’t it?’
I sit back as the debate unfolds. Is this what a book club is supposed to be like? A year eleven rowing with their English teacher about how the book is nonsense. It reminds me of that funny meme that went around the internet a few years ago – the one that said something like this:
Teacher: Why were the curtains blue?
Student: Don’t know.
Teacher: Blue represents sadness. The fact the curtains are closed means they’re preventing the light from coming in. Therefore suggesting an impenetrable sadness hangs in the room.
Author: The curtains were effing blue.
I giggle to myself.
‘How about something with a bit of grit next time?’ Janey says, unconvinced by Amanda’s gushing about Jane Eyre.
‘I really enjoyed it.’ I shrug. ‘I agree with Amanda but how about you choose the next one?’
‘Okay, but first, wine.’ Janey jumps out of her seat and heads to the kitchen.
When Janey returns, Amanda draws a loud breath, prompting me to look over. I expect to see her looking impatient, but instead, she’s staring at the cover of the book, which is resting in her lap. ‘There was another reason I chose this book.’
‘Oh?’ Janey and I say in unison.
Amanda removes a pristine, white handkerchief from her cardigan pocket and dabs the corner of her eye. It’s certainly the night for it.
‘I’ve had this copy for thirty-five years.’ She strokes the cover lightly. ‘I bought it in Haworth, the day my husband, George, proposed. We’d been on a day trip and walked up to the Brontë parsonage, visited the museum and eaten cake in this beautiful little café. It was the perfect day and after he’d bought me this book, he walked me up to the Brontë waterfall and got down on one knee.’
‘How romantic,’ I say fondly but Amanda doesn’t respond.
‘There’s something I’ve needed to talk about and the truth is, I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a long while,’ Amanda says quietly and I get a pang of sadness.
‘You can talk to us,’ Janey says softly and I back her up with warm smile.
‘I lost George last year and the pain …’ She bursts into tears. Immediately after, Janey and I rush to her side.
‘I’m so sorry, Amanda.’ I thought she was married but her house did feel suspiciously empty – perhaps I should have said something then.
‘I suppose I chose this book as a way to remember George, but also as a way to talk about him. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. Talking about it isn’t easy.’ She blows her nose and I stroke her back. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t like it, Janey.’
‘Oh my goodness. Don’t worry about me. I feel terrible now for saying those things. You can talk about anything with us. Tell me what he was like?’ Janey soothes.
Amanda talks for a while about how charming George was. He sounds like he had a good sense of humour and treated her like a queen too. It’s easy to see why he’s left a huge hole in her life.
‘Then he had a heart attack. Without warning, it struck him down on the golf course and that was that.’ She dries her eyes with the now sodden handkerchief.
My throat constricts. I know how it is to love someone and lose them suddenly. I also find it too hard to talk about.
‘It makes you realise how short life is,’ Janey says. ‘How every day counts.’
I give her a look to say she should take her own advice.
‘Anyway, enough about me.’ Amanda pulls out a pocket mirror from her handbag and wipes away the mascara that had smudged around her eyes. ‘How’s your new job going?’ It’s a clear attempt to lighten the mood, but I can see how much she needs me to take the bait.
‘On the whole, I love it, but it was quite traumatic yesterday. Edward, the vet, had to put an old sheepdog to sleep.’
‘Oh, that’s sad,’ Amanda says.
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‘Pet Sematary,’ Janey says, sloshing more wine into each of the glasses on the coffee table. ‘That’s what we should read next. The sheepdog story gave me the idea – we wanted something with grit.’
I shake my head. ‘Pet Sematary it is.’
Amanda and Janey fall into an agreeable conversation about Stephen King but since telling the sheepdog story, I seem to have Edward on the brain. I keep trying to picture him and Stacy together, but I can’t make them fit. Why is it bothering me so much?
‘Are you with us?’ Janey is looking at me.
‘Yes.’
‘I was just saying you need to get the book request in at the library if you’re going to get a copy in time. You looked as though you’d gone to another planet for a minute.’
‘I was just thinking about work.’
Janey turns to Amanda. ‘Has she told you about the hunky vet she works with?’
Amanda shakes her head but hunches forward in her seat like she’s ready to hear more.
‘I knew you’d Facebook-stalked him,’ I say. Janey laughs.
‘I might have had a little look. If he’s single, he’d be quite the catch. Tall, good-looking and he must have a sensitive side, wanting to save animals for a living.’
‘He … well … I suppose. He’s a nice guy but he’s just my boss.’
‘Oh yeah.’ Janey winks.
‘He is.’ My voice is a high-pitched squeal. ‘He’s a very good boss too and I don’t want to jeopardise my job so don’t go gossiping. You know how things spread in this village.’ Janey pretends to zip her lips shut. ‘Anyway, I don’t think Amanda wants to hear this.’
‘Oh I do. When I asked about work I was hoping to lighten the mood, but this has exceeded my expectations ten-fold.’ She grins.
‘Well, for the benefit of those in the room desperate for something juicy, he’s seeing someone.’
Janey’s jaw drops. ‘Who?’
‘A woman called Stacy. I don’t know her but Carly at the practice said they go out together from time to time.’
‘That’s a shame – he’s hot as hell,’ Janey says, curling her feet up on the sofa.
‘So, are you thinking about courting?’ Amanda asks as Janey snorts.
‘No. Not at all,’ I say with the powerful assault of anti-aircraft missile.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to seem nosy.’ Amada clears her throat. ‘I’m not very good at the whole girls’ chat thing.’
My abdominal muscles tighten. I’ve made her feel bad. ‘Don’t apologise, it’s just not something I’ve ever considered. It’s a shock to even think about dating again. I’m run ragged by the kids each day and my body is a mess. My stomach is saggy from three kids, I’m covered in cellulite and my pubic hair is trespassing way beyond my knickers’ elastic. In all directions.’
‘Don’t worry about your tummy – we all have that and you can get a bikini wax,’ Janey says.
‘I just don’t think I could pull myself together enough to go on a date.’
‘Understandable,’ Amanda says with a small apologetic smile. ‘I’m not sure I could consider dating again.’
‘But you’ve never had a one-night stand,’ Janey says, then screws her eyes up. ‘I’m sorry, that was insensitive. I’ve had too much wine.’
Amanda laughs. ‘Don’t worry. A year has passed – I’m okay. It was a difficult year. My daughter couldn’t get back for the funeral and we don’t have much family. I’m okay though now. I just felt like I needed to talk about George to bring his memory alive. It was starting to feel a bit like he didn’t exist.’
‘That’s what friends are for,’ I say.
‘And never say never on the one-night stand.’ Amanda winks but I suspect she’s just teasing Janey.
‘God, I can’t imagine going through all that awkward first date stuff now,’ Janey says.
I laugh along, but the truth is, as scary as dating seems, a lifetime of being alone is terrifying to me. Perhaps that’s why she puts up with Jimmy, because the alternative is more frightening. Yes, right now dating seems too much, especially with Henry being so small, but I’d like to think I’ll meet someone in the future. Someone to share meals and walks with, someone to grow old with. Otherwise, when the kids leave home, I’ll have nobody.
‘Can you pass me the Prosecco?’ My voice croaks.
‘It’s all gone.’ Janey shrugs. ‘I probably should call it a night. Both kids have swimming in the morning and it’s hard enough to drag myself out of bed at the best of times.’
‘I should get going too,’ Amanda says. ‘But thank you, both. As weird as it sounds after all the tears, I had a wonderful evening.’
When I close the door, I don’t feel like going to bed, so I open a bottle of rosé from the fridge and flick through Netflix for something that doesn’t require too much brainpower. I find it hard to concentrate. I’m too light-headed. If I didn’t know better I’d swear I was coming down with something, but I’ve felt like this since Janey brought Edward up and we had the whole conversation about dating. After a few sips of wine, the unease starts to melt a little. I put on a new comedy series that people have been raving about but find myself flicking through my phone. It buzzes in my hand. It’s Amanda on our WhatsApp group.
Thank you for being there xx
Immediately Janey replies:
Any time xx
Then Amanda.
Sorry if I upset you, Stephanie. I won’t mention it again xx
There’s that pang again.
No, I’m sorry. I was just taken by surprise. I pause before adding, We’re friends now. You can say anything to me xx
Chapter 19
‘Temperamental cat?’ I ask a rather flustered Edward. He’s emerged from the examination room looking a little red and dishevelled – he’s even loosened his tie – things must be bad.
‘The little rascal won’t let me near her. I need the nurse to hold her still.’
Helen, the nurse, is out on her lunch. ‘Is Mrs Pearson not due back to collect Ruby soon?’ I’d overheard her telling Carly she’d be back at one and it’s five to.
Edward rakes his hands through his hair. ‘She’ll have given her Yorkshire pudding again, you mark my words, but without examining her abdomen, I can’t be certain.’
‘If it’s just holding her still, I could do it.’
Edward glances around the empty surgery and nods. ‘Yes, please. I need to go to the farm soon to check on one of the horses down there so I could do with sorting Ruby and her irritable bowel sharpish.’
I follow him into the small room where he puts the cat on a metal table. She arches her back and hisses. I wonder if she can sense I’m a dog person.
‘Relax, Ruby, I just want to feel your tummy. If we don’t get to the bottom of this, we could have a much bigger problem on our hands and we don’t want that, do we?’ he says, looking the cat dead in the eyes. I can’t help but smirk at Edward in his slightly rumpled tweed, talking ever so earnestly to a cat.
‘Steph, I’m going to lie her down on her side. Could you help restrain her? You’ll have to use a bit of force – she’s quite feisty.’
He lies the cat in position. ‘I need you to put your hands where mine are and whatever you do, don’t let her go.’
Slowly, I slide my hands along her glossy fur, until they reach Edward’s. He gives me the nod, so I slide my left hand beneath his big, warm hand. Little bolts of electricity zap me as I do and for the few seconds it lasts, I can’t focus on anything but his touch – it’s strangely pleasurable. I swallow hard before moving my right hand into position. The same thing happens again. I wonder if he felt that too or if it’s just my imagination. I study his face. His jaw is set, his eyes are serious, intent and giving nothing away. I get an overwhelming urge to reach out and run my hand over his smooth skin; instead, I look at the wall and try to focus on the job in hand. He listens to the cat’s chest or abdomen – it’s impossible to tell – then slides the stethoscope off.
&
nbsp; ‘I’ve already run blood tests and X-rayed her but there is definitely some bloating. I’m just going to apply some pressure to see if she’s in any pain.’ He looks at me pointedly so I nod even though he’s talking to me like I’m the nurse but I really have no idea about anything other than the mild palpitations his proximity is causing me. As he presses her stomach, the cat wriggles and claws at my hands and I reel backwards.
‘Sorry,’ I say realising I’ve let her go. I pin her back down.
The bell on reception shrills. ‘That will be your mummy,’ I say to Ruby. ‘Do you still need me or should I go through? Carly was outside when I came in.’
He pauses in thought. ‘You go. I had a good feel and she seems okay.’ As I place my hand on the door handle, he draws a breath. ‘Oh, and thank you for stepping up. You’ve saved me a lot of apologising and explaining.’
Warmth reaches my cheeks and I allow myself a little smile as I leave the room with a new level of envy for Helen.
‘Hi, Mrs Pearson,’ I say, donning a huge smile.
‘Ruby. I’m here to collect her.’ She presses her lips into a hard line. Pleasant as always.
‘Take a seat, Mrs Pearson. Edward will bring her out in just a moment.’
I start generating the invoice for Ruby’s treatment. As I tap away at the keyboard, I sense Mrs Pearson’s eyes weighing heavily upon me. I glance at her and she doesn’t even have the decency to look away.
‘Is there anything I can help you with whilst you wait?’ I ask.
‘No.’ Thick air hangs around her. Slowly, it makes its way towards me and my throat is constricted. I swallow hard. Suddenly, the door to the examination room opens and Edward waltzes out. I can breathe again.
‘Mrs Pearson,’ he says cheerfully, ‘I have Ruby here for you.’
Mrs Pearson’s face lights up as she collects the cat carrier from him. ‘Whatever was the matter?’ she asks the cat rather than Edward.
‘She was a little bloated – I think it was a bit of colic so I’ve given her antacids and she seems to have settled. I’m going to give you some to take home but, Mrs Pearson, your cat needs to be kept on a strict diet. No more human food – I’m pretty sure she’s struggling to digest it.’
The Single Mums' Book Club Page 9
