Another Glass of Champagne

by Jenny Kane

  There was one problem, however.

  Jack walked back downstairs and stood in the doorway of the restaurant. He looked along the road, to a spot a couple of hundred metres away where a sign, placed by a narrow alley, directed passers-by to the coffee-and-cakes delights of Pickwicks. Jack knew that in order to make ends meet, let alone pay for all the new equipment and staff he’d need, he would have to open for afternoon coffee and cakes, too, as well as for evening meals...

  Peggy and Scott would kill him.

  That was if Amy and Kit didn’t do it first.

  Returning to the reception of what once had been the unimaginatively named Richmond Trattoria, Jack could already see the place alive with diners. He had to do this. It felt so right. Surely Peggy would understand? Anyway, she and Scott specialised in quick meals and coffee-break cakes. He would be cooking exclusive dinners based on carefully thought-out menus designed to stretch his guest’s palates. He had no need to worry at all. There’d be no overlap in trade.

  After all, Pickwicks already had a loyal clientele, mostly pensioners, and they were hardly his target demographic anyway...

  Jack turned to the patiently waiting estate agent.

  ‘I’ll take it.’

  If he’d had a jacket on, Jack would have turned up the collar. He felt like he was parachuting over enemy lines. As he edged along the shop-lined alley that led to Pickwicks, he wasn’t sure why he wanted to see the place. If he was spotted peering through the window by Peggy or Kit there was no way he could avoid going inside, and he wasn’t ready for that yet. Especially now he’d done something that he knew could potentially damage trade for Peggy and Scott, no matter what he told himself.

  With his promise to himself that he would see Amy first echoing in his ears, Jack hovered at the edge of the shop next to Pickwicks and stared through the window, keeping his body shielded by the blinds that protected the late morning coffee swillers from the early summer sunshine.

  Kit was at her usual table.

  Peggy was hanging cups on hooks behind the counter.

  Scott was out of sight – probably making some of his delicious scones in the kitchen.

  Megan was chatting to a table full of pensioners.

  Jack didn’t know Megan as well as her colleagues, but he knew she was intelligent, good at her job, and obviously popular with the customers. It seemed a shame that she was making ends meet as a waitress when he was sure she was capable of so much more.

  I’m going to need someone front of house at my new place...

  Jack left the thought hanging in his head to come back to later, just as Peggy suddenly looked up from what she was doing. Flinging himself out of view, hoping that he hadn’t been spotted, Jack hurried back down the alleyway and out onto Richmond’s main street.

  He couldn’t help laughing at his own mad behaviour, yet he was still relieved that he hadn’t been spotted. The girls would have wanted to grill him about what he’d been up to, and they’d want to talk about Amy’s condition, and he wasn’t sure how to arrange his facial features for that discussion yet.

  He had to go and find Amy. He couldn’t put it off any longer, but he found that his palms were sweating slightly at the prospect. Knowing he was being ridiculous, Jack wiped his hands down his jeans and walked towards his friend’s home on Princes Road. If Amy’s clinic appointment had been that morning, she should be home by now. He wanted to see her before her workmates at Home Hunters tipped her off that he’d been looking for her.

  Chapter Six

  Monday 6th June

  Peggy gave her head a shake. She couldn’t possibly have seen Jack outside the window. She hadn’t had a lot of sleep – her mind had been too full of all the plots and plans she and Scott had made over the weekend. Her eyes must have been playing tricks on her.

  Glancing across at Kit’s corner table, Peggy noticed that the writer’s hands didn’t seem to be making contact with the keys. Now she thought about it, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually seen Kit’s fingers anywhere near the keyboard. Picking up the coffee jug, she went to make sure her friend was OK.

  ‘Kit, you looked miles away!’

  Forcing out a smile as Peggy poured a fresh quota of black coffee into her huge cup, Kit shrugged. ‘I was just trying to work out which words to put down first. Brain’s a bit sluggish today, I’m probably tired.’

  ‘Me too, I’m even hallucinating Jacks!’

  ‘You’re doing what?’

  ‘I could have sworn I saw Jack through the window a minute ago.’ Peggy sat down. ‘Mind you, I’ve had next to no sleep, and the sun was in my eyes, so it was probably some random Jack-shaped bloke.’

  Kit gave her friend a more genuine smile. ‘And the fact he’s probably backpacking around a jungle or something sort of makes it even more unlikely to have been him.’

  She suddenly had an urge to confide her concerns, but the opening of the café door heralded the day’s first lunchtime diners, sweeping Peggy back into service.

  Slipping off her shoes, Megan sank down on the bench in the tiny garden at the back of Pickwicks’ kitchen. Relieved to be on her break after a very busy hour of serving sandwiches and soup, Megan flipped open the sketchbook she’d recently taken to carrying around with her at all times, like when she’d been an art student.

  She’d had a few vague ideas about taking commissions for portraits to earn some extra cash to contribute to her and Nick’s house rental fund, and Megan had been practising doing mini drawings and speed sketches whenever she could to improve her confidence.

  Encouraged by Nick and her friends, Megan had got into the habit of sitting outside during her lunch break with a large pad and some sketching pencils. Today, holding a photograph that Scott had covertly passed to her, she set to work. She was about to begin a portrait of Peggy and Scott as a surprise for Peggy’s birthday on the twentieth of August.

  Certain she wouldn’t be disturbed by Peggy, who was holding the fort in the café on her own, Megan began to sketch the outline of her artwork. It seemed impossible now that she’d forgotten how satisfying it was to create a picture from scratch.

  By the time Peggy had fulfilled the hunger-fuelled requirements of the last lunchtime diner, Kit had dismissed the idea of sharing her empty nest feeling with her friend. After all, she knew that Peggy and Scott would have loved children, and it seemed churlish to complain about something her friends would have loved the opportunity to face but never had the chance.

  Since talking to Phil, Kit had felt a lot better, and although the words were still forming a logjam in her head, at least she knew she wasn’t going mad now.

  ‘I’ve gone right off tuna mayonnaise.’

  Kit got up and took the heaped up tray of empty sandwich plates from Peggy. ‘Has that been the favourite filling of the day then?’

  ‘Unbelievable, isn’t it. It’s always popular, but for some reason best known to the shopping public of Richmond, it has been the must-have order today. Scott’s had to re-mix the filling three times.’

  ‘Tell you what, you sit there and rest your feet while guarding my computer, and I’ll take this out to the kitchen.’

  When she got back, Kit found Peggy looking thoughtful. ‘Why have you closed your work down, honey? I usually steal a read of your latest work in progress when I think you’re not looking.’

  ‘I haven’t got much done today.’ Kit mumbled. ‘It’s been a mulling-things-over sort of day.’ Changing the subject, she said, ‘Scott says there are some sandwiches ready for your lunch when Megan comes back through.’

  ‘Good, I’m starving.’

  ‘Are you and Megan managing alright with only two of you on the serving team? It’s already busy, but by July it’s going to be packed between eleven and two.’

  ‘Actually, Scott and I were talking about that over the weekend. Would your Helena fancy giving us a hand and earning some money before she heads off to university? Where’s she going again?’

  Flinchin
g slightly, and hoping Peggy hadn’t noticed, Kit said, ‘She’s aiming for Bath to do Chemistry, and Thomas is hoping to be off to Exeter. Assuming they get their grades, that is.’

  ‘Of course they will. What’s Thomas going to study?’

  ‘History.’

  ‘Sounds good. So, do you think Helena will want the job? It would save me a lot of bother with adverts and stuff.’

  Kit nodded. She knew exactly how much time it took to go through interviews and training staff for Pickwicks, so someone who was already familiar with the layout would be a real advantage to Peggy. ‘I’ll ask her. Helena’s bank balance could certainly do with a top-up. Goodness knows it’s time she stood on her own two feet financially.’

  Megan came back into the café and Peggy got up to go and have her lunch before another influx of customers forced her to forego her only real break of the day. As an afterthought, she turned back to Kit. ‘If you’d rather your daughter wasn’t here during the day, just say. I mean, this is your office after all!’

  ‘I don’t mind at all. I’ll ask her this evening, assuming she comes home She seems to live at her mates’ houses these days.’

  ‘Making the most of seeing her friends before she heads west, I suppose.’ Peggy waved as she disappeared into the kitchen, to what Kit hoped wasn’t a tuna sandwich, before she could see the tell-tale glint of tears fighting to form at the corner of her friend’s eyes.

  Cross with herself for being so emotional, Kit looked at her screen. Peggy had opened a new document and typed the words You can talk to me, you know. Love Peggy xx across the top of the page.

  Kit should have known that she couldn’t hide anything from Peggy. The manageress knew her habits better than anyone, having been host to them for the past decade or so. Kit didn’t even want to guess how many cups of coffee, scones, and slices of toast she’d consumed at that table in that time. Just the thought of the amount of butter she’d spread over her early-morning snacks was enough to make her feel as though her hips were expanding right there on the seat.

  Making her mind up to talk to Peggy soon, she picked up her mobile and sent Helena a text, telling her about the possible employment opportunity at Pickwicks.

  Kit wasn’t sure if she actually did want Helena around all day while she was writing. But then, she thought, I’m not exactly writing now, am I.

  Chapter Seven

  Monday 6th June

  It seemed a lifetime since Amy had first come back into Jack’s world and they’d sat, side by side, on her sofa at eight Princes Road, eating pizza and watching the same movies they’d enjoyed in their student days, back when they’d been a couple. Before he’d broken her heart. Before she’d run away to Scotland.

  A chill ran down Jack’s back as he walked towards Amy’s home as he realised his friends might have thought he’d run away this time.

  He stopped dead, narrowly avoiding being walked into by the people on the pavement behind him. Did they think he’d run away, not once but, worse, twice? No one had said anything, but it suddenly seemed so obvious to Jack that his absence while Amy got married definitely looked like running away – and his leaving again a year or so later, while he hadn’t planned it that way, looked like him fleeing the scene again.

  Why hadn’t seen it like that until now?

  Jack had considered his periods of time away from Richmond as self-preservation. He’d simply been removing himself from the scene of hurt, so that his emotions didn’t have the chance to get the better of him. But as he headed towards the house of one of his closest friends, the idea that his friends might have seen his leaving of the area as weakness or failure began to gnaw at his brain.

  As he got closer to Amy’s house his pulse began to beat faster. He knew it was important to get his reaction to her forthcoming motherhood right – but what was right? He hadn’t been nervous about seeing her; in fact, he’d been looking forward to it. He had been apprehensive though, in case she saw his last year as silence as a personal affront, and he was prepared to receive a telling off. He smiled to himself for a moment. Being told off by Amy was a bit like being savaged by a snail.

  Unless, of course, she’d changed...

  Reminding himself that Amy didn’t have a mean bone in her body, Jack took a deep breath. She would listen to him before she passed judgement.

  Drawing nearer to the end of terrace where she lived, he became aware of a woman walking towards him, her arms laden with heavy shopping.

  Amy?

  Standing still, he struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. In his head he’d pictured Amy looking like she always used to; perhaps with a slight swelling to her stomach denoting her impending motherhood. It hadn’t crossed his mind that not only was Amy pregnant, but she might have the baby any second now.

  Jack tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He’d never seen Amy look so attractive.

  Amy squinted into the sunshine. It wasn’t the first time she’d thought she’d seen Jack when he wasn’t there. In those long days of getting over him as a boyfriend, she’d seen him everywhere she looked. Somehow his features had been reflected in every male face, his words in every song she heard; his voice echoed in every place she’d visited.

  She was seeing things now because she’d been thinking about Jack a lot lately, worrying about how he was. Hoping to talk to him about her fears about becoming a mother so late in the day. Fears she hadn’t even confessed to Paul. It’s your addled pregnant woman’s brain playing tricks on you, girl.

  Or was it?

  She stopped dead.

  Hang on a minute.

  Jack?

  Amy’s smile mirrored the feeling that started in her heart and filled her from top to toe. Dropping her shopping, she called out to him, opening her arms wide in welcome, ‘If you want this to be like the movies, you’ll have to be the one to run to me. I can’t: whales don’t run!’

  Grateful for the ice-breaker, her grin contagious, Jack dashed forward and wrapped Amy in a gentle cuddle, scared to squeeze her too tightly. ‘It is so good to see you!’

  ‘You too.’ Amy held him briefly, before abruptly drawing back and giving him a sharp clout around the ear. ‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’

  Dumping Amy’s shopping bags on the kitchen table, Jack apologised for the third time in as many minutes for not having been in touch.

  ‘I get it, Jack. You’ve said you’re sorry for the lack of contact. You haven’t told me why yet, though. I know you’ll have your reasons, and as far as you’re concerned they’ll be good reasons, even if no one else would think so. But what are they?’ Amy automatically put the kettle on as she signalled for Jack to sit at the table.

  ‘You’ll understand though, won’t you?’

  Amy nodded her head ruefully. ‘Probably. But then I’ve always been an idiot where you’re concerned, Jack Brown.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  Resting her back against the kitchen sink, she regarded him carefully. ‘I was worried about you. So was Kit. What did she say when you saw her?’

  ‘I haven’t seen her yet. I only just got back.’

  Amy tried not to feel pleased that he’d come to see her first, and failed. ‘Coffee, I assume? Do you still have it the same way?’

  ‘Yes please, and yes.’ Jack looked around him. The kitchen had changed since he’d last been there. It was no longer painted starkly white, but a warm cream colour. It was then that he picked up the faint aroma of fresh paint. ‘You’ve been decorating?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why? This place was lovely as it was.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t think!’ Amy couldn’t prevent the sarcasm escaping from her lips. ‘Could it be because Paul and I want our child to live in a house that is clean and fresh, with a perfect room of its own, adapted especially for his or her needs?’

  Passing Jack his coffee and putting her own mug down in front of her, Amy slid into a seat as gracefully as her current size would allow. Seeing the shocked expression on her
friend’s face, Amy spoke more gently. ‘Honestly, Jack! We haven’t all been stuck in a timewarp waiting for when you came back. Life carries on, even when you aren’t here to help it along. Whether you like it or not, things change.’

  Silent for a second, Jack pointed at Amy’s cup. ‘Like you not drinking coffee. What the hell is that stuff?’

  ‘Fruit tea. Cranberry and orange, to be precise.’

  Jack couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’

  ‘You only got a coffee for old times’ sake. I can’t even stand the smell right now, and I can’t drink it at all. Makes me feel awful. It’s quite common to go off coffee in pregnancy, apparently.’

  ‘That must be a nightmare for you! I’ve never known you have anything other than coffee or the occasional hot chocolate. Certainly never tea.’ Jack pulled his mug as far away from her as he could, and put his hand over the top, as if to protect her from its delicious aroma.

  Appreciating the gesture, Amy said, ‘You aren’t kidding. I mostly have cold drinks, but sometimes I crave a warm one. Hot chocolate is out because it gives me and the bump indigestion.’

  Jack, who Amy noticed had been avoiding looking at her swollen belly, swallowed carefully, ‘So when is it due then?’

  ‘My baby is due on the twenty-sixth of August.’

  Jack almost choked on his coffee. ‘Blimey, that’s ages yet. I mean, you’re so big I thought it must be sooner, and ... Ouch!’ He drew his leg up and hugged it. ‘You kicked me!’

  ‘Yes, I bloody well did! I am not that big. I’m actually quite small for someone seven-ish months gone, so less of the cheek. Now, enough small talk. Where the hell have you been, and why the radio silence?’

  ‘Cooking? But what about the horticulture course you did? Amy observed Jack shrewdly over her glass as he explained where he’d been for the past year. ‘Didn’t you want to be a gardener?’

  ‘I did love gardening. It was great to be able to spend so much time outside, and I enjoyed the course, but I’m a bit old for that game now.’