Another Glass of Champagne

by Jenny Kane

  ‘Oh, hello.’ Jack didn’t like the way his heart contracted when he saw that Rupert was the only one in Reading Nature. Having psyched himself up to talk to Rob about where he was opening the restaurant, Jack felt wrong-footed at his friend’s absence. ‘Rob not in today?’ He asked the question merely for something to say; it was obvious his friend wasn’t in.

  ‘He’s nipped over to Kew to collect a batch of their new guidebooks to sell. Shouldn’t be too long.’ Rupert felt awkward, wanting to engage Jack in conversation but not entirely sure what to say – and still feeling wary after hearing so many negative things about the man’s past.

  ‘Oh, right.’ Feeling oddly tongue-tied, Jack said, ‘Do you mind if I browse while I wait?’

  ‘Of course not, it’s a bookshop.’

  Stupid thing to say. Jack cursed himself. ‘You’d think I’d know that, seeing as I used to own this place.’

  Keeping his eyes firmly on the computer screen so he didn’t spend time admiring the annoyingly handsome back view of Jack’s bum-hugging jeans and white cotton shirt, Rupert said, ‘It must have been hard giving his place up. Not sure I could.’

  ‘I knew it was going into good hands, and although I do miss it sometimes, I love what I’m doing now even more.’

  ‘I can understand that. I adore cooking – well, being creative generally, really. Although I have to admit I’m not exactly gifted in the culinary department.’

  Beginning to relax, Jack said, ‘Phil tells me photography’s your thing.’

  ‘It is. I love it. Although I’m not as good at that as I’d like to be either.’

  Jack smiled. ‘Phil said your pictures are outstanding. You’re entering some sort of competition, aren’t you?’

  Rupert blushed, hating that his face always gave him away. ‘Well that’s very kind of Phil, but I have a long way to go before I’m that good.’

  ‘I’d like to see them sometime – if you’re happy with sharing your work, that is. Natural history, as you can tell from the fact I opened this bookshop, is something of a passion of mine.’

  Shyly, Rupert gestured to the computer screen. ‘You can help me now if you like. I’m narrowing down the photos I’ve taken at Kew to those that are good enough to turn into postcards – and those that might be potentials for the competition.’

  Pushing the shop door open about half an hour later, Rob dumped the box of new books on the counter before he noticed the two men sat at Rupert’s computer, deep in conversation.

  Catching the amused expression on Rob’s face, Jack immediately gave him a glare that told him in no uncertain terms that if he started matchmaking he’d regret it. ‘And what time do you call this, Robert? I wouldn’t have put up with this tardy timekeeping when I was the boss!’

  ‘When you were the boss, it was anyone’s guess if you’d turn up at all!’

  Jack gave both men his best impish smile. ‘Rupert, would you mind terribly if I borrowed your already-late boss for a little while? I have something I need to talk to him about.’

  ‘No problem.’ Rupert picked up a pile of paperwork, ‘I have plenty to get on with, and I doubt it’ll be busy this morning.’

  Intrigued by what Jack might want to talk to him about that he hadn’t been able to say last night, Rob followed Jack outside, the shop and into the nearest café.

  As they sat down at the café’s window seat, Jack jumped into conversation first before Rob could start quizzing him. ‘Yes, Rupert is gay. No, I am not interested, so don’t waste your breath, mate. Now, can I talk to you about something?’

  ‘You’ve done what?!’ Rob almost choked on his mouthful of iced orange juice as he took in what Jack had just said.

  ‘The old Italian place on Richmond High Street. I’ve bought it.’ Jack was not encouraged. Rob’s reaction was exactly the opposite of the one he’d hoped for.

  ‘Talk about stepping on peoples’ toes, Jack!’

  ‘Peggy and Scott will be more than a bit put out then?’

  Rob stared at his friend in disbelief, ‘Are you kidding me, mate? They’ll go ballistic.’

  Kit stared at the mountain of clothing in the ironing basket. They were all so big. No children’s clothes sat awaiting the attention of her iron any more. As she slid the hot surface over one of Phil’s white shirts, she couldn’t stop herself from picturing all the cute little garments that Amy would be folding into drawers soon.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, woman! Snap out of it.’

  Kit knew she was in danger of tipping into depression if she wasn’t careful. If only she could write! It has always been like therapy for her. All her fears and hopes and secrets and worries were always made better when she played them out in a make-believe world on paper.

  A noise from above her made her turn the iron off and call up the stairs. ‘What’s going on up there, Phil?’

  ‘Come and see!’

  The bedroom curtains had been drawn even though it was only seven o’clock in the evening. Phil had moved their portable television and DVD player from its usual stand in the corner of the room to a table that he’d temporarily stationed at the foot of the bed.

  ‘I haven’t caught you indulging in some private fetish, have I?’

  ‘Much as I miss your erotica days, love, no.’ Phil ushered his wife to the bed, where he’s already plumped up the pillows so she could comfortably sit down. ‘Now you wait there for a minute.’

  Sitting back, wondering what on earth her husband was up to, Kit asked, ‘Where’s Helena?’

  ‘Out with friends.’

  ‘At least she isn’t hounding poor Rupert then.’ She sighed. ‘How the hell are we going to get her to leave him alone?’

  ‘She’ll get fed up eventually. Forget about that for now.’ Phil passed his wife a glass of wine and, with remote control in hand, climbed up on the bed beside her.

  ‘What’s all this?’ A smile started to grow across her face as he put his arm around her.

  ‘I know you’re struggling, love, and I want to help. You’re going to miss the twins, and so will I, but we don’t have to forget everything that’s gone before. Even though they don’t need us all the time any more, they do still need us.’

  Kit frowned but, trusting her husband, laid her head on his shoulder.

  ‘Ready?’

  ‘I think so, although I’m not sure what this is yet.’

  Phil pressed ‘play’ in response. Seconds later they were laughing with tears shining in their eyes as the old camcorder recordings he had made of the twins from birth, and throughout their childhoods, burst onto the screen.

  ‘Oh, wow!’ Kit couldn’t stop the happy tears streaking her face as her husband passed her a box of tissues. ‘When did you do this?’

  ‘I converted the old films yesterday. Rupert has a software package that did the trick. Now, let’s indulge in some memories and loosen up that writer’s block, shall we?’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Monday 20th June

  A nervous smile on her freckled face, Megan, her arms full of art supplies, knocked clumsily on the door of Jack’s new restaurant.

  Come on, Jack! She glanced over her shoulder, as if she expected to see either Peggy or Scott bearing down on her with accusations of industrial espionage flying from their lips. Jack had told her she could drop off the first of her bits and pieces before work, and had sworn he’d be there. Come on!

  At last a shadow appeared behind the blind on the main door, and Jack relieved her of a heavy bag of paints and brushes.

  ‘You got enough stuff here?’

  Megan, who still wasn’t convinced she’d got inside without being spotted, said, ‘That isn’t even half of it!’

  ‘I know, I was joking. Come and see.’ Jack led her up the narrow staircase and ushered her into his converted spare bedroom. She was astonished.

  ‘When did you do this?’

  The room had been scrubbed clean from top to bottom. There was a new white chest of drawers, a narrow side table
, an anglepoise lamp and a box of daylight bulbs, plus several empty jars and cloths, all waiting to be pressed into artistic service.

  ‘Yesterday. I had fun hitting the junk shops.’ Jack didn’t mention that he’d needed to keep his brain busy to stop it drifting towards Rupert. ‘The only thing I couldn’t find was an easel. Do you have one?’

  ‘I do indeed.’ She stroked the side of the slim table lovingly. ‘Nick will bring that and the canvases over as soon as it’s convenient for you.’

  ‘This evening?’ Jack was warmed by Megan’s enthusiasm, ‘I have a feeling I might need some light relief tonight.’

  ‘Oh, why’s that then?’

  ‘Because Rob, quite rightly, has told me I have to tell Peggy about this place today. It isn’t fair on you to leave it until she finds out by accident.’

  ‘Ahh.’

  ‘Have you told Peggy and Scott about taking the job with them yet?’

  ‘No. I thought I’d see if they knew about your plans before I did that. I wanted to make sure I knew how to gauge what I said. I intended to tell them this morning.’

  ‘I’ll come along to Pickwicks with you now then.’

  Wary, Megan looked away as she asked, ‘You’re going to tell them about this place at the same time as I tell them I’m staying?’

  ‘Bad idea?’

  She shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know, but I do feel a bit like piggy in the middle. Peggy will be upset if she knows I was aware of where you were all along. She may not want me to work for her after all if she finds out.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll tell her I put you in an impossible position, and that you felt awful having to withhold information, but you were just trying to do the best for everyone.’

  Megan snorted. ‘Well, that’s pretty much the truth anyway!’

  ‘I know.’ Jack climbed back down the stairs. ‘Right, new plan. I’ll give you a half-hour head start while I call the removal firm I have on stand-by in Kent. That will give you time to pass on your good news before I arrive.’

  ‘Thanks, Jack.’ Megan felt a nervous fizz well up inside her. ‘Call me a coward, but I might choose the moment of your arrival to go to the bank to collect the days float!’

  Perspiration gathered on the palms of Megan’s hands as she walked into Pickwicks. She knew it was ridiculous to be so nervous. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but she still felt she’d let her employers down.

  Oh well, here goes. She waved a greeting at Kit, who was already installed in her space in the corner of the room and was looking far happier than she had done lately, although she didn’t seem to be actually putting her fingers on the keyboard.

  Glad that the rest of the café was currently empty, Megan called to Peggy, ‘Can I have a quick word?’

  Hope blossomed on Peggy’s face. ‘Have you made a decision about the job?’

  ‘I have.’

  Tilting her head to one side quizzically, Peggy said, ‘Should I be worried that you look a bit concerned?’

  ‘Shall we go through and tell Scott as well?’

  Following her chief waitress into the kitchen, Peggy had to bite her tongue against the temptation to bombard Megan with questions. Instead she announced to Scott, ‘Megan has news.’

  Scott looked up; his face was smeared with a dusting of flour. ‘So, what’s the verdict? Do we get to employ you at Pickwicks number two, or are you off to pastures new?’

  Grateful for Scott’s calm manner, Megan hung her bag on her coat hook, and put on her apron. ‘If you’ll still have me, then I’d love to run your second branch. Thank you.’

  ‘We’ll definitely have you! Why wouldn’t we?’ Peggy swept her friend up into a hug.

  ‘Well I shouldn’t even have considered Jack’s offer, but, well...’

  Scott rescued her sentence for her. ‘Of course you should! This is your life after all; you have to do what’s best for you.’

  ‘Thanks, Scott.’ Megan felt choked, especially as she was still feeling disloyal. ‘I haven’t done too badly out of the arrangement in the end.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Relaxing a little now she knew she didn’t have to advertise for a manageress for their new branch, Peggy pulled a piece of paper off their list pad and began to scribble things down on it.

  ‘Jack has commissioned me to do some paintings to hang in his new restaurant. That means that not only can I keep working for you guys, but I can spend time on my art too – something I’ve been really missing lately.’

  ‘Congratulations!’ Scott was thrilled, ‘that’s wonderful!’

  Peggy smiled as she added more food to her order list. ‘That’s great, Megan, honey. I expect that once you and Nick have a place of your own, you’ll have more space to get down to some serious drawing again.’

  Knowing that she should come completely clean and tell Peggy that she was going to work in Jack’s converted room, but not wanting to go down that road until Jack himself had visited, she simply said, ‘I’m looking forward to it.’ Then, glancing at her watch, she said, ‘I’d better get on. Has the till float been sorted yet? I can do that now if you like – be good practice for my new managerial role.’

  Jack gritted his teeth as he hung up the phone. The last thing he’d wanted to do was talk to Gareth, but as the removal firm would need access to the bungalow he’d rented from his ex-boss – and Gareth was the only one with a key – he’d had no choice. It had not been the most pleasant of conversations. Now, as Jack readied himself to walk down to Pickwicks to confess to Peggy and Scott, he had a nasty feeling that the day’s confrontations were not over yet.

  Considering all the problems Kit was having writing, Jack was surprised to see her at her usual table as he walked into the coffee shop. Unsure if it was good that she was there or not, he was torn. Did he speak to Kit first, as he would normally when he had a problem, or did he go straight into the kitchen, where a covert signal from Megan had told him the proprietors were?

  His indecision was cured by Kit waving him to her table. Shooting Megan an apologetic look, he headed to her.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you today, Jack. Coffee?’

  ‘I’d love one, but I can’t stop this morning, sadly, I’ve got to crack on with getting adverts for staff sorted and working on my menu, otherwise I’ll never be open on time.’

  Kit was genuinely shocked. ‘I had no idea you were after staff already. When are you going to stop being so mysterious about this bistro of yours? Did you decide on a name for it?’

  Jack shook his head. ‘Despite all your inventive name suggestions the other night, I am no nearer deciding on a name, but I’ll get there.’

  ‘And where is there exactly, Jack?’ Kit felt a trickle of suspicion. ‘How come you’re here so early? You said you were staying in a hotel fairly near your new place, didn’t you?’

  Wishing that Kit hadn’t always been able to see straight through him, Jack checked over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t being overheard. ‘I’ve been afraid to tell you.’

  ‘Oh, hell, Jack, what have you done now?’

  ‘You sounded like Sharon from Within Temptation then!’

  ‘Jack! Don’t you dare start quoting song lyrics at me!’

  Noting the warning tone in her voice, Jack swallowed back the lines from “What Have You Done Now?” and began to fiddle with the sugar bowl. ‘I was trying not to cause trouble, but of course, as usual, I failed.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Lowering his voice, Jack leaned forward a fraction. ‘The restaurant. Well, my restaurant now.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘It’s, umm, it’s...’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Jack, spit it out. I can’t think what on earth you have to be so cloak and dagger about.’

  ‘OK. The thing is ... well ... you know the Italian place that closed down on the main road through Richmond?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Kit nodded, ‘It’s over the road from the lane that leads to here and ... Oh
my God, Jack, you haven’t?’

  His silence said far more than any words could have done. ‘Oh, Jack! But what about Peggy?’

  The coffee pot smacked down onto the table, making Kit jump even higher than Jack did. ‘Yes, Jack? What about me? What about my business? What about everything that Scott and I have been working so hard for, for so many years?’

  The quiet anger that escaped from Peggy’s mouth was far more intimidating than the shouting rage he’d expected.

  Kit looked from Jack to Peggy, her mouth open, not sure what to say. Her gaze took in Megan’s horrified face.

  Oblivious to the waitress’s presence behind her, Peggy’s voice began to crescendo, ‘Not only did you try and poach my best member of staff, are you seriously telling me that you are going to open up in direct competition to Pickwicks?’

  Scott, who’d come through on hearing his wife’s raised voice, caught sight of Megan, and immediately put a comforting arm around her.

  ‘OK. Stop!’ All eyes in the café turned towards the cook. ‘What is going on?’

  Peggy, reining in her temper as best she could, said, ‘Well, the first thing that is going on is that Jack is leaving.’

  ‘We should give Jack the chance to explain, Peggy,’ Scott said.

  ‘Explain? He’s supposed to be our friend, and he is opening up right opposite us, just when we need Pickwicks to do as well as possible!’ Peggy pointed to the door, ‘Leave, Mr Brown. You are barred.’

  With apologetic looks at Kit and Megan, Jack got to his feet. ‘I’m sorry. If you’d let me explain...’

  ‘Out!’

  Silence fell as the door of the café closed behind Jack.

  Megan had gone so pale that Kit got up, and unsure what to say, and guided the waitress to the chair she’d just vacated.

  ‘Did you know, Megan?’ Peggy was trying hard to keep her voice level, but there was no disguising the feeling of betrayal in her eyes.

  Sadly, Megan nodded. ‘Apart from all the reasons I gave you before, that’s why I didn’t take the job. I couldn’t be part of stealing your customers. I wanted to tell you, but Jack didn’t think it was fair that I should take your anger, so he said he’d come and tell you – which is why he was here so early.’