by Jenny Kane
‘Thanks for coming, Helena. Did your mum tell you what the job involves?’
Helena pushed her shoulders back to show she wasn’t apprehensive in any way. ‘Being a waitress for a few hours a day?’
‘And are you genuinely interested? I won’t lie to you, it’s very hard work. I can only afford to pay you minimum wage, and you’ll have to work some weekends. I thought you’d like to earn some money before university, but if you aren’t up for it, then I can advertise in the local paper.’
Helena, who hadn’t wanted to come along at all and was perfectly happy living off handouts from her parents, had been horrified when her mum had suggested that she might like to earn her own money. She had been even more surprised when her mum had added that, although she and her dad would happily help both her and Thomas with their uni fees and rent, they weren’t able to be their sole supporters any more. It was time, her mum had told her rather more curtly than she normally would, that she stood on her own two feet.
Her usual indignation hadn’t worked on her mum this time, and Helena could see that it wouldn’t work on Peggy either. ‘Thanks, Peggy. I’d like to give it a try, if you’ll have me.’
Peggy grinned. ‘No problem! So, first things first. Go through to the kitchen, give your hands a thorough wash, get Scott to give you an apron, and then ask Megan to introduce you to the fine art of stacking a tray with dirty dishes and filling the dishwasher. Then once the lunch rush has passed, I’ll show you how to work the coffee machine. Yes?’
Trying not to look shocked, Helena, who’d assumed she was only coming along to hear Peggy offer her the job and tell her how many hours she’d have to do, and then go home for a few more hours’ sleep, found herself heading through to the kitchen as requested.
‘Oh, Helena?’
The teenager turned back to Peggy.
‘Is your mum alright, honey? She isn’t at her desk.’
‘She was in bed when I left. Said she’s got a cold or something.’
Peggy wasn’t convinced. If Kit’s arm fell off or she had double pneumonia, she would still turn up to write her books. Something wasn’t adding up.
After dishing out a few more pots of tea and slices of fruit cake, Peggy left Megan in charge and snuck out to call Phil. His phone was off, which meant he must be working with a group at Kew. She took the plunge and called Kit, but the mobile rang and rang with no answer.
Turning over in bed, Kit pulled Phil’s pillow closer, cuddling it in the absence of her husband’s warm body. There seemed little point in getting up today. Helena would be working in Pickwicks, and she didn’t want to make her daughter any more self-conscious than she’d be anyway, by sitting at her usual corner table.
Telling herself that a day spent curled up under the duvet with her headphones turned up full blast, reading books that other people had written and ignoring the world, would do her good, Kit switched her phone to silent and left her emails unchecked. Feeling in dire need of a brain recharge, she convinced herself that if she had a day off – a day away from being her normal self – then tomorrow she’d be able to write again.
With only a mild pang of guilt, Peggy had left teaching Helena how to use the coffee machine to Megan and, once the post-lunch lull began, had made her way to Kit’s house. She’d tried phoning her friend on and off all day, but had got no response.
Knowing she was probably being irrational – Helena didn’t seem at all concerned about her mother, and Phil would never turn his phone off if he was concerned about his wife – Peggy still couldn’t dismiss the nagging feeling that all was not well with Kit.
As she turned into the secluded driveway that led up to Phil and Kit’s comfortable semi-detached home, Peggy stopped dead.
Jack! She hadn’t been imagining things after all. She had seen him peering through the café window. Now it all made sense. Who else had the ability to throw Kit off-kilter like this? Jack had to be at the bottom of this. How dare he turn up after so long and upset her friend again!
‘What the bloody hell are you doing here, Jack?’
Startled, Jack spun around on Kit’s doorstep. ‘Peggy!’
Unable to stop herself, Peggy marched forward. Images of history repeating itself took control of her tongue. ‘How dare you come back and upset Kit again! Don’t you ever learn anything from your mistakes? You almost destroyed her marriage a few years ago, don’t you dare take her down that road again!’
Jack shook his head viciously, his face pale as he took in Peggy’s ire. ‘What are you talking about? I haven’t even seen Kit yet. And I wouldn’t upset her for anything.’
‘Come off it, Jack! I saw you stalking her through the window of Pickwicks the other day!’
Jack ran an agitated hand through his short spiked hair and forced himself not to raise his voice. ‘Oh ... I thought you might have seen me. I wasn’t stalking anyone. I just wanted to ... I don’t know, really. I’ve missed you all, OK? I wanted to make sure everyone was alright, but I didn’t have time to chat at that moment.’
‘You expect me to believe that?’
‘Yes I bloody well do, actually!’ Then, taking hold of his temper, Jack added with deliberate calm, ‘Why are you here, Peggy? Is there something wrong with Kit? I must admit I hadn’t expected her to be back from writing at Pickwicks yet. I was just passing, and thought I’d call by on the off-chance.’
Hands still on her hips, Peggy moderated her tone a fraction. ‘Forget why I’m here. Why are you here, Jack? Here in Richmond, I mean.’
Not wanting to provoke Peggy further by telling her about his restaurant plans – a confession that suddenly seemed more daunting than ever – he said, ‘I missed my friends. I’m going to be working back in the area, and I wanted to tell Kit I was here in person, rather than her hearing it from someone else. I figured I owed her that much after being out of touch for so long.’
Jack could tell Peggy wasn’t entirely convinced, so he pushed on, ‘I’ve only been here a couple of minutes, but I can’t get a reply from the front door. The lights are on so I’m pretty sure someone’s in.’
Peggy, knowing she’d probably overreacted to Jack’s presence, tore a piece of paper from the notebook she kept in her handbag, wrote a quick message asking her friend to get in touch, and posted it through Kit’s letterbox.
‘I have to get back to the café. Are you staying here to see if she turns up?’
‘I can’t, I have to get over to my hotel. I need to try and extend my stay for a few days while I sort out some more permanent accommodation.’ Jack crossed his fingers inside his trouser pockets in defence of the half-lie he’d just told Peggy. ‘I’ll come back and check on Kit later. I’d like to see Phil and the kids as well.’
‘Well, I can tell you that Thomas is in Europe, backpacking with his mates, and Helena’s learning the ropes at my place.’
‘Really? Helena’s working?’
Peggy laughed; it seemed she wasn’t the only one who was taken aback by such an out-of-character development. ‘She needs money for university.’
Jack sighed. ‘I’m getting old. Amy is starting a family and Kit is getting ready to lose hers. Where does the time go?’
Peggy stopped walking and looked at Jack with renewed respect. ‘You might just have answered a few questions for me in that one sentence.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Are you heading back Richmond way?’
‘Yes, my hotel’s just the other side, in Hounslow. Why do you ask?’
‘Because I’ve been worried about Kit, and I suspect you’ve just told me what the problem might be. I’ll fill you in on the way.’
Kit, oblivious to the people who had just left her doorstep, rolled over in her sleep. She had drifted off in her cosy nest, but her dreams were full of stray words chasing her down narrow tunnels in the dark.
Chapter Ten
Tuesday 7th June
Three hours later, Jack walked back up the driveway to Kit’s home. Taking a deep breath, not
sure what sort of reception he’d get, and fully briefed by Peggy that Kit hadn’t been behaving like her usual self, Jack knocked on the door.
‘Jack! Hello, disappearing godfather person!’
Taking a step back, Jack looked at Helena properly. ‘Blimey –’
Helena held up her hands as if to stop the next part of Jack’s sentence. ‘Yes, I have grown, and I’m sure you can’t believe it. I am eighteen and not five anymore. Shock! Horror! Stop the presses!’
Jack grinned. ‘I get the feeling you aren’t keen on those sorts of comments.’
‘Got it in one. You here to see Mum?’ Helena flicked her newly streaked purple and black hair away from her eyes, and stepped back to allow Jack entrance, ‘She’s in the kitchen with Dad.’
Not sure whether he’d be welcome or not, Jack allowed Helena to lead him into the kitchen.
‘Hello, stranger.’ Kit got up off her wooden chair and wrapped him in a hug.
‘You knew I was coming?’ Jack found he was disappointed to be robbed of the element of surprise.
Phil gestured Jack to the nearest seat. ‘Oh, you know Rob; he can’t keep a secret to save his life.’
‘It wasn’t Peggy who told you’d I’d come then?’
Kit frowned. ‘No, why?’
‘You didn’t get her note?’
‘Note?’ Kit looked at Phil. ‘Did you see a note?’
Helena suddenly appeared sheepish. ‘Oh, umm, maybe it’s this?’ She pulled a folded piece of paper, with Kit written across the front, from her pocket. ‘Sorry, Mum, I saw it on the mat when I got in. I was going to give it to you, but I was so knackered after a day at Pickwicks that I forgot.’
Phil rolled his eyes. ‘A day? Helena, you did four hours. If you think that’s a day’s work you’re in for a shock when you do a full shift tomorrow.’
‘Alright! I said I’m sorry.’ Helena slammed the note down on the table and stalked off.
Kit gave a half-smile. ‘That’s better. I was worried she’d had a total personality transplant for a minute. I know Peggy is good at bringing out the best in people, but she’s not that good that fast!’
‘It could be that she’s smarting from having Peggy tell her that, attractive though her new floppy haircut may be, it’s unhygienic for serving food and will have to pinned back.’ Phil shook his head affectionately.
Laughing, Kit said, ‘Good for Peggy.’ As she unfolded the note, her face blanched slightly and she muttered under her breath, ‘Damn. I’d better make a call. Excuse me.’
Jack nodded. ‘Good idea. She was really worried. It must have been weird for her to see someone else sitting in your seat.’
Kit frowned. ‘You knew Peggy had been here?’
‘I popped by here as well this afternoon. Peggy turned up shortly after I did. We met on the doorstep.’
Annoyed with herself, Kit tapped her friend’s number into the kitchen phone. ‘Typical, no one ever knocks on this door, and then I miss two welcome guests on the same day.’
Just as she was about to hang up, the phone was answered.
‘Peggy! I’m so sorry. I decided to have a no technology day. I’ve heard people say how good they can be for recharging the creative batteries, so I relaxed, put in my headphones, and got lost in a book. I even had a nap! I didn’t mean to worry you.’
Jack and Phil exchanged glances as Kit disappeared into the hallway to continue the call in private.
‘Is Kit OK? Peggy was in quite a state when I saw her earlier.’ Not sure he should share Peggy’s theories or not, Jack left his query there, but Phil didn’t seem to mind.
‘Bitten off a bit more than she can chew on the deadline front. You know Kit; she’s having a little panic. She’ll be fine. I’m glad she had a day off. Did her good. She’d take much more time off if it was up to me.’
‘Kit has always worked too hard. Addicted to what she does, I suppose.’
Phil laughed. ‘You aren’t wrong! Coffee and words: an addictive combination, that’s for sure. Anyway, how are you, mate? Rob said you’re a chef now. Is that right?’
‘It’s right. I loved running the bookshop, and enjoyed the gardening, but this – it’s hard to explain. I feel so right doing it. I’ve never looked forward to going to work more.’
‘I can understand that. I loved running Home Hunters, but Reading Nature has become a passion. And it’s paying off. Did Rob tell you we’ve hired a new guy to help us? And that we’ve got a contract with Kew to promote both the gardens and our shop?’
‘No, he didn’t! That’s brilliant.’
As Kit came back in, Phil added, ‘Actually, Jack, our new guy, Rupert, is coming over for a takeaway and a chat about work in a bit. Fancy staying as well? You can meet him, and we can have a proper catch-up. We’re always up for fresh ideas to help us expand your former empire.’
Despite her claims to the contrary, Jack wasn’t convinced that Kit was OK. The moment Phil left to fetch them a Chinese takeaway, he wasted no time. Reaching forward, he linked his fingers with his friend’s.
‘Look, Kit, I came over to do the whole, “I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch for so long, and I’ve missed you” speech – which I am and I have, but I think we can take all that as read. You have to tell me what’s going on. Don’t give me any crap about needing a day off either. You’ve never needed a day off in your life.’
Kit opened her mouth to reply, but Jack got in first. ‘And don’t give me any rubbish about it being “nothing” either. I’m going to nag until you tell me, so you might as well spit it out.’
Drawing her hands away from Jack, Kit wrapped them around her mug of coffee. ‘OK, I’m busted. You always did see through me.’
‘Not this time. It was Peggy. She said you didn’t go to the café this morning. Weirder still, she said she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually seen you type words onto the screen. So, what’s going on?’
‘Writer’s block,’ Kit replied so softly that Jack didn’t hear.
‘Pardon?’
Shouting in frustration, Kit yelled, ‘Writer’s block, OK? I’ve got bloody writer’s block!’ She sagged back into her seat, half shocked at herself for yelling, half relieved to have finally admitted it out loud.
‘All writers get that sometimes, don’t they?’ Jack couldn’t quite see why this was a crisis. ‘Surely you just go for a walk, have a change of scene, and shrug it off?’
Kit closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. How could she explain this to someone who didn’t write? She hadn’t understood the concept herself until now.
‘Trust me, Jack: I’ve tried to walk it off lots of times.’ She sighed. ‘It’s like the worst brain freeze you can imagine. I hardly like to use the word paralysed, but that’s how my mind feels. I can sense all the words queuing up in my head, but they will not come out of my fingers.’
Jack could hear the distress in her voice. If she couldn’t write, then she wasn’t Kit. ‘You don’t feel like you, do you? Not without having control over your words.’
Kit was stunned. ‘That’s it exactly. I hadn’t even worked that bit out for myself, wow ...’ She got up and threw her arms around her ex. ‘Thank you!’
‘What for? I only stated the obvious.’ Hugging her back, he said, ‘So I guess the plan now is to find out why you feel blocked?’
‘I’m pretty sure I know what the problem is, but I’ve been stuck for so long now that I can’t seem to break the habit of being blocked.’
‘Tell me. Tell me all about it, talking it out might be the answer.’ Jack’s heart went out to her. If he couldn’t cook anymore, he’d hate it. He might have found his passion fairly late in life, but now he had, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he was unable to do it anymore.
‘I’m sure this is all wrapped up with the twins moving on and ...’ Kit got no further as the unmistakeable clatter of Phil returning broke through their chat.
Suspecting that Peggy had got her theory about Kit’s unhappines
s spot on, Jack said, ‘Tell you what, why don’t I take you for an old-fashioned coffee stop tomorrow, and we can talk at our leisure?’
‘I would love that, thanks, Jack. I’m so glad you’re home. You are back properly now, aren’t you?’
‘I am. I promise.’
Kit clapped, ‘Good, because I want your opinion about Rupert.’
Instantly suspicious, Jack asked, ‘Why?’
There was no time for Kit to answer, however, for Phil walked in laden with bags of takeaway, together with the man Jack had seen with the group of children in Kew Gardens and followed by a freshly washed and provocatively dressed Helena.
Chapter Eleven
Friday 10th June
Peggy had told herself that, whatever happened, she must not fall in love with the café they were about to view in case things went wrong, but within seconds of entering the vacant building she had broken that promise.
The premises she, Scott, and the rental agent now stood in were smaller than the agents’ particulars had led them to believe, but undeniably perfectly proportioned. With the same Dickensian feel to its exterior as Pickwicks, the café had a wide, airy bay window with sills deep enough to fill with jugs of fresh flowers. It was also nicely laid out and decorated well enough to need very little doing to it before being re-opened.
The kitchen had already been declared adequate by Scott, who was currently wondering if he could cook enough in the Richmond kitchen to stock both cafés, or if they would have to hire an additional cook as they’d originally planned.
With no other independent coffee shops nearby, Peggy and Scott were sure they could provide Mortlake with a new and delicious alternative to the usual café chains, just as they did at Pickwicks. Encouraged by the fact the café had only closed down because the previous tenant had retired, and not because the business had failed, a nod of approval from Scott and an excited smile from Peggy soon told the agent that a decision had been reached.
