The Single Mums' Book Club

by Victoria Cooke

  ‘Edward gave me the day off because we worked late last night. I wasn’t going to take him up on it but do you know what? I think I will. Fancy a change of scenery?’

  ***

  The Broadly Country Park is one of my favourite places. Vast green fields, woodland walks and a tearoom with cakes that would make Juliet Sear book herself onto a baking course. Janey drove since my car is still at work and we dropped Henry off at the childminder on the way so it’s just the two of us. As the tyres of Janey’s car crunch across the grey gravel of the car park, I feel a bit naughty, like I’m wagging it. As she’s getting her coat out of the boot, I go and pay for a ticket.

  ‘Walk first and reward cake later?’ she asks as I hand her the window sticker.

  ‘Sounds like a plan.’

  We take a path that leads down to a small lake. It’s a pleasantly mild day. The sun reflects off the water, which is framed by long grass and reeds. A heron swoops down and catches a fish – it all happens in a second.

  ‘If only if was that easy to catch a man.’ Janey laughs to herself. ‘Although I’d rather have the fish if I’m honest.’

  ‘Does this mean you’ve made a decision?’ I ask.

  She sighs. ‘Not yet. He’s been super-helpful with the kids and lots more attentive with me. Perhaps this could do us some good.’

  ‘Do you think?’ It’s none of my business but I don’t think Jimmy made a mistake. I hardly know him but I know men and how the heck is he going to distance himself from this Alex if she works for him? He can’t sack her because he can’t keep his hands to himself.

  ‘I don’t know. We’ll see. So come on then. Your car? What’s it doing at the vet’s?’ It’s typical of Janey to want to talk about my problems. I’ve come to realise she’s not comfortable talking about her own.

  I stop walking and turn to look out across the lake. ‘We were doing the accounts and Edward ordered a takeaway because we were working through the evening. He had some beers in the kitchen and we drank a few.’ I reach down, pick up a pebble off the path, and try to skim it. It sinks straight to the bottom. ‘We got talking about that Stacy woman, who he isn’t seeing by the way.’

  ‘Oh?’

  I shake my head. ‘She sounds a little bit obsessed with Edward and he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings. Anyway, he said he was attracted to someone and …’

  ‘And that someone is you?’ Janey prompts in an excited high-pitched screech.

  I drop my head.

  Janey cranes her neck to try and look me in the eyes. ‘What’s the matter with that?’

  I throw my hands in the air. ‘I like him, Janey, and when he kissed me—’

  She gasps.

  ‘Sorry, I haven’t covered that bit yet, have I?’

  She shakes her head.

  ‘We kissed and it felt so good. I’ve never had a connection like that before. I mean, perhaps I once felt like that when Mike kissed me in the early days but it’s not a feeling I remember. It was like a movie kiss. I could have been on the top of the Empire State Building at the end of Sleepless in Seattle it was so good.’

  Janey’s forehead is as crumpled as a discarded chip wrapper.

  ‘Okay, that was over the top.’

  ‘No, no, no it’s not that. I’ve just never seen the film.’

  I cock my head to the side. ‘Really?’

  ‘No, not really. I’m joking. It’s the fact that it all sounds so perfect and yet you’re about to tell me there’s some sort of problem.’

  My shoulders sag. ‘There is a problem. Ralph is still getting used to the idea Mike has a girlfriend. I’m his only constant at the minute and if I change things, I’m scared he’ll be mentally scarred for life.’

  ‘Okay, two things. Firstly, why should Mike be the only one allowed to meet someone new?’

  ‘He’s not. He just happens to be the first.’

  ‘Secondly, you don’t have to tell the kids straight away. See how it goes first.’

  ‘I know that but what if Ralph never accepts Kate? What if he feels worse about it over time rather than better? What if he resents his dad and refuses to go and spend time with him?’

  ‘And what if the international space station crash-lands on you whilst you’re wallowing in a self-pitying purgatory?’

  ‘I’m not wa—’

  ‘Look, I’m not going to be one of those friends who tells you what you should do. Crikey, we’re old and battle-scarred enough to make our own decisions. Date him or don’t date him. I just want you to make sure you consider all the options before you dive headfirst into a current that takes you in a different direction to the one you wanted to go in.’

  ‘Thank you. I have. I just need to make sure these big changes are introduced slowly and sensitively.’

  ‘Consider yourself in this, though.’

  We continue to walk around the lake in companionable silence. My mind is on last night but I’ve no idea where Janey’s is.

  ‘You know, after everything I went through as a kid, all I ever wanted was a normal family.’

  ‘What is a normal family these days? Clinging on to an unhappy marriage isn’t.’

  ‘I know. I don’t have any regrets about the divorce … I just wish we could have been happy, that’s all.’

  ‘This is my point. You can be happy.’

  ‘I know. I think I’m ready to make some positive changes in my life, but not a man, just some “me” time. Some pampering or the odd night out would do,’ I say, stopping as we complete the loop around the lake. ‘How about that cake now?’

  We make our way to the tearoom and I insist on getting the treats whilst Janey finds a table. Since it’s a nice day, she chooses one in the small cobbled courtyard outside. I get us both a scone with the works and a cup of tea.

  ‘Ooh, this looks amazing,’ Janey says, building up layers of jam and clotted cream with complete disregard of the ‘what goes on first’ argument – I doubt she’d be welcome in Devon or Cornwall for treating a scone that way.

  As I’m about to cut my own in half, my phone buzzes. ‘Sorry,’ I say reaching in my bag for it. Janey waves her hand.

  The name on the screen jolts me.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Janey asks. Evidently, my face wears the shock like a mask.

  I shake my head. ‘It’s an old friend: Emily. Someone I haven’t spoken to since …’ The memory comes back. ‘Since the day I met you.’

  ‘One of those bitches who ditched you when you and Mike broke up?’

  I clutch the phone to my chest. ‘I don’t want to open it. It’s a WhatsApp message; if I open it she’ll know I’ve seen it.’

  ‘Can’t you read some of it off the notification on your home screen?’

  ‘No, ever since you, me and Amanda set up our group, I turned off the message display in case one of the kids saw something inappropriate pop up.’

  ‘You’re going to have to open it. It could be something important. Why would she contact you out of the blue?’

  ‘I have no idea, but I’m eating my scone first.’

  The scone is delicious. The cool, fresh, clotted cream sits beautifully atop some homemade jam with big chunks of strawberry in. The tea cuts through the sweetness perfectly.

  ‘That was to die for.’ Janey leans back in her chair with a groan.

  ‘It was. Who needs lunch anyway?’

  Janey gestures to my phone. ‘You going to see what she wants then?’

  I sigh and pick it up.

  Hi Stephanie, I hope you are keeping well. I know it’s been a long time since we caught up and wondered if you might be free tomorrow for a drink and a bit of a chinwag? xxx

  Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that. ‘It doesn’t say anything. Just that she wants to meet up.’

  ‘What? She ignores you for the best part of a year, leaving you to hit rock bottom by yourself and now wants to meet up? What a charmer.’

  Janey is right to think she’s taking the biscuit, but I’d be fibbing if I
said part of me wasn’t intrigued. ‘Perhaps she wants to apologise. I just don’t know if I can imagine myself sitting in a bar with her.’

  Janey shrugs. ‘If you’re not comfortable, don’t do it.’

  ‘But on the other hand, what if it’s something important?’

  ‘Just put the phone away and think about it. You don’t have to reply this minute.’

  ‘She’ll know I read the message.’

  ‘So, let her stew.’

  ***

  The usual after-school chaos sees that I forget all about Emily’s message and it isn’t until I’ve sat down in front of the TV with a KitKat and a cuppa that it buzzes again, jolting my memory. It’s her again.

  Stephanie, I’m sorry about the supermarket encounter a few months back. I wasn’t myself. It’s part of what I wanted to see you about actually. Please message me back xxx

  I’m torn between wanting to throw my phone at the wall and feeling compelled to agree to her demand. I watch an episode of Schitt’s Creek and muster the energy to reply.

  Hi Emily, it’s been a while. What is it?

  To the point, a little sharp, but what the heck? For a moment, I think she might get the hint and stop bothering me but the little dots appear, indicating that she’s typing something.

  It’s a really long story. It would be better to meet face-to-face. Does tomorrow at seven work? xxx

  My fingers are nimbly typing ‘okay’ before I’ve even thought about it. God she’s good at this.

  Chapter 32

  Work is like Victoria station and Edward hasn’t had a second to himself. I make some tea for everyone and pretend to forget to take Edward’s through to the examination room, so Carly does it instead. I’m not avoiding him as such, but I am trying to remain focused.

  He emerges for a late lunch in his blue scrubs. He’s just done a surgery that went well and as such, probably needs to refuel.

  ‘Hi,’ he says with the briefest glance at reception. Is it me or is there an atmosphere?

  ‘He’s not his usual chirpy self,’ Carly says when he’s gone. Not just me then.

  A little while later, when Carly is on her five hundred and seventy-fifth cigarette break, he comes back out. I shrink into my seat and try to look busy.

  ‘Steph,’ he says, running both hands through his hair.

  ‘Hmm?’ I type gobbledegook and delete it several times whilst furrowing my brow intently. Despite my best efforts to look incredibly busy, he lingers at the desk.

  ‘About the other night. I wasn’t intending to say … or do anything so unprofessional and didn’t mean to make things awkward between us. We’d been talking about honesty and I guess I got caught up in the moment. Can we forget I said anything at all?’

  How do I forget something like that? The GB gymnastic team had an all-night celebration in my stomach. ‘Of course.’

  His body relaxes. ‘Thank you, and I’m sorry to have complicated things. You’re so good at your job, I’d hate to make you feel uncomfortable, and … you know. Strictly professional from now on. Sorry. Again.’

  The notion gives me a sinking feeling. ‘You don’t need to apologise. We can still be friends.’

  He gives a wan smile and nods before disappearing again.

  I know it’s for the best and is exactly what I wanted but my whole body is laden with disappointment.

  ***

  It’s been almost a year since I wore my ‘drinks-with-friends’ clothes. I’ve had drinks with Janey and Amanda of course, but jeans and a T-shirt cuts it just fine. Amanda is a fan of a blouse and long skirt but she doesn’t make me feel like I should dress that way. Emily on the other hand is a different matter. Style and class radiate from her, luring in those similar and warning off those who aren’t. I put on my uncomfortable dark-blue skinny jeans and team them with a cream satin blouse and gold necklace with two interlinking circles that Mike bought me for our first wedding anniversary. Before I apply my make-up, I slowly peel off the steri-strip that Edward placed there what now seems like forever ago. The cut has healed nicely – you can barely see it. I wonder if it would have left a scar if he hadn’t patched me up so well. Throwing the grubby little strip away feels like I’m ridding myself of the last bit of Edward’s tenderness and it doesn’t feel anywhere near as good as it should. I push thoughts of Edward aside and put on some court-heeled pumps, brush my hair and I’m ready to go.

  I contemplate the drive into Manchester but it’s likely I’m going to need a drink, so I take the tram instead. She wants to meet in a pretentious new bar just off Deansgate so I have to walk for ten minutes whilst following a map on my phone. I have butterflies the whole way and when I get there, I can’t even remember why I agreed to come. Every molecule in my body experiences a magnetic push away from the entrance. I force myself in. Being a Thursday teatime, it’s quiet so I spot her straight away in a cream leather-look booth. Coiffured golden waves, a contoured face and an elegant floor-length silk shirtdress nipped in at the waist with a tie belt give her the ‘Emily’ signature look.

  ‘Hi,’ I say, approaching her.

  She smiles sheepishly. ‘Hi, Stephanie – I’ve got the drinks in.’

  There’s a bottle of Veuve Clicquot sitting in an ice bucket on a stand next to the table. She’s already poured herself a glass and starts to fill the second flute for me.

  I slide in next to her.

  ‘So, it’s been such a long time.’ She puts her arm around me and pulls me close in an awkward hug.

  ‘Not through any fault of mine,’ I say. I’m no longer scared of losing her friendship like I was in the early days of the divorce. I don’t owe her any pleasantries.

  She lowers her head. ‘I know and I’m ashamed of how I … how we … the girls anyway, treated you. You have to understand that it was very difficult to pick a side.’

  Rage fires up inside of me so I take a sip of champagne to settle any shaking that might erupt in defiance of my strong persona. I don’t want to look weak.

  ‘Why was it difficult? Why couldn’t you call and see if I was okay and do the same for Mike? Neither of us would have asked you to choose a side.’

  She presses the tips of her fingers to her forehead; it’s a small movement that she manages to make look dramatic. ‘We were wrong.’

  ‘So where are the others? Lucinda? Patricia?’

  She gives a small shake of her head and whispers, ‘It’s just me.’

  ‘Oh. Why did you ask me here?’ I say, softening my tone.

  ‘Bradley has filed for divorce.’ She bends down to search for something before pulling out a tissue that looks like it’s one nose-blow past its limit.

  I grab a packet from my own bag and pull out a fresh one before handing it to her. ‘Here, I’m never without.’

  She thanks me before blowing her nose.

  ‘What happened?’ I ask.

  ‘He’s been shagging his tart of a secretary. Original isn’t he? All that effort I put into finding an ugly nanny when the kids were younger too.’ She waves her glass as she speaks but somehow manages not to spill a drop.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say. There must be something in the water.

  She waves her hand dismissively. ‘I saw it coming and I’ll do okay out of the divorce. What I didn’t realise was how bad it would make me feel about … how did you put it? Ghosting you.’

  ‘It was a terrible thing to do but I’ve made some new friends and I’m working now. I’m okay.’

  ‘Oh,’ she says reaching for her flute. I notice her hand has a slight tremor and I find myself feeling a little bit sorry for her. ‘Have Lucinda and Patricia cut you off now?’

  She nods. ‘Yes. I get it. The boys’ club is the glue that keeps everything together. We women are peripherals. Marianne will slot right in where I left off.’

  I frown. ‘Marianne?’

  ‘The secretary.’

  ‘Ahh.’

  ‘She’ll be going to the Regency Health Spa this weekend instead of me.’
>
  I remember those pompous getaways. The men would golf while the little ladies got facials and mud baths. There would always be a dinner in the evening where the men, usually Bradley, would regale us with tales of his super-rich friends. It used to annoy me how Mike would try and keep up with them. I’d wince with each bottle of champers he’d charge to our room and despise the others who knew we weren’t as well off as they were yet insisted we always had the most expensive bottle on offer. I wonder if Kate is going to this health spa? Mike hasn’t asked me to have the kids but he’s with them this evening and had them the night I worked late – perhaps he’s after brownie points.

  ‘Look, Emily, Lucinda and Patricia are not your real friends. You must have some other friends.’

  She looks at me with wide eyes. ‘Did you?’

  I shake my head. ‘No. When we moved to Milden, neither of us knew anyone. That’s why Mike’s friends are all from the firm and you three were my only friends.’

  ‘I know Mike has met someone,’ she says.

  ‘It is what it is,’ I say drily.

  ‘Have you met her?’ Emily asks.

  I shake my head.

  ‘She’s not a patch on you.’

  I don’t for a minute believe her but the sentiment is sweet.

  ‘We were awful to you, weren’t we?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘But I’ve moved on and you will too.’

  ‘I guess we just thought it was the boys’ work gang and you had other friends.’

  ‘Now you know. Anyway, it’s in the past now – I’ve made some great friends now and you will too.’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispers then recharges the glasses. ‘So, your new friends, what are they like?’

  ‘Janey is a bit brassy but her heart is in the right place. Amanda is more reserved but very sweet and considerate. It all came about because of a book club, would you believe?’

  ‘A book club?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say with a small laugh. ‘It’s not a proper club that’s open to members or anything, just three friends who get together to discuss a book every few weeks and usually our problems. It’s not something I’d ever thought of doing before but it’s been great fun.’