by Jenny Kane
‘You OK, Megan?’ Kit didn’t like the pallor to the waitress’s face.
‘What? Oh, yes, I just feel so sorry for Peggy and Scott. How awful for them.’
‘And for you.’ Kit spoke gently. ‘Will you have to look for a new job now? I know you and Nick are trying to save for that place of your own.’
Megan sighed. ‘Maybe. I earned a fair bit for Jack’s pictures, but that won’t last long. I’ll keep working here until something else comes along.’
‘You won’t go and work for Jack now then?’
‘Too late. He was interviewing for the front of house job today. If I’m going to be an ordinary waitress, I’d rather do that here. The hours are more social for a start, even if the wages are marginally lower. Anyway, I couldn’t leave Peggy now! She and Scott must be in pieces.’
Leaving Megan in the storeroom at the back of the kitchen, Kit returned to the main café to see Scott pacing the floor.
‘Any news?’
‘We have an appointment with the solicitor at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. He couldn’t say much over the phone as he doesn’t know all the details yet, but he’ll get in touch with the estate agent right away and we’ll get an idea of what we can do tomorrow. He did say, however, that the landlord was within his rights to change his mind. There is no way that we’ll get to keep the new branch.’ He turned to Peggy. ‘Sorry, love.’
‘So it’s all about damage limitation?’ Peggy said as she stood up, brushing her apron down with her usual determination.
‘That’s about it.’
‘Then we’d better go over that contract tonight with a fine toothcomb, and make a list of every penny we have invested in that place so we can show the solicitor tomorrow.’
‘That’s my girl.’ Scott embraced his wife.
Proud of her friends’ determination, Kit offered to come in early and help run Pickwicks with Megan the following morning so Peggy and Scott could go and see the solicitor without worrying about the café.
‘The question I’m dying to ask,’ said Amy as she returned from yet another trip to the bathroom, ‘is ... will you be looking for another venue?’
Peggy’s frown returned. ‘I honestly don’t know. Things would be a lot easier if we didn’t have to worry about the extra competitor Pickwicks suddenly has, thanks to bloody Jack! What the hell was he thinking, getting a place so near to Pickwicks? He doesn’t need the money.’
Shocked by Peggy’s outburst, Amy and Kit exchanged glances, before Amy said, ‘He does, actually.’
‘But he’s loaded! Isn’t he?’ Peggy’s expression lost some of its hostility.
‘Not anymore.’ Kit smiled encouragingly at Amy, as if telling her it was alright to explain.
‘Jack’s sunk almost all of his remaining money into the bistro, so he needs his enterprise to work every bit as much as you needed yours to. I promise you, Peggy, he didn’t pick that bistro to annoy you, it just happens to be the best place he could afford. I’m sure if you went for a visit you’d be reassured.’
Chapter Twenty-eight
Wednesday 20thJuly
Jack turned his mobile phone off and on again in the hope that his lack of texts or calls was merely due to a technological issue, and not because Rupert didn’t want to talk to him.
On the plus side, he hadn’t heard anything from Gareth either, and he’d begun to dare hope that his ex-employer had done whatever it was he wanted to do in London and gone back to Kent.
Sat at his desk, scanning his eyes down the list of emails that demanded his attention, Jack was disheartened to see that there had been no further applicants for the job as front of house manager. The interview he’d had with Mike had been good fun. The guy had been friendly and had some experience, but something about him had told Jack he wasn’t right for the job. He was neither charismatic nor engaging enough, and the first point of contact in his bistro needed to be both of those things.
So, with the opening day fast approaching, Jack still had no house manager and no kitchen hand, although he had an idea about the latter. Deciding that he might as well tackle that issue now, and co-inside it with a long overdue attempt at being a grown up, and go and explain and apologise to Rupert about Gareth, he shut down his PC and headed towards his old bookshop.
Rob looked up from where he was bagging up a collection of books for a customer, and nodded a greeting to his friend. Only when the young mum and her enthusiastic offspring had departed from the shop did he talk to Jack.
‘We wondered when you’d turn up.’ Rob shook his head. ‘Phil and Rupert are out running a children’s course at Kew. They’ll be back in about an hour if you’d like to wait.’
To Rob’s surprise, Jack looked uneasy. ‘Do you think I should?’
‘What exactly have you done this time?’
‘You mean you don’t know?’ Jack sounded mockingly defensive. ‘Usually you guys have all my problems aired and sorted before I even get here!’
‘Don’t be like that! We worry about you.’
‘Sorry,’ Jack dropped his defences a fraction, ‘but you know what I mean.’
‘Guilty as charged, but it’s only because we want you to be happy, mate. Anyway, in this instance you’re safe. Rupert keeps his business to himself, and although Phil tells me that you’ve spoken to Kit and Amy, the girls’ lips are sealed.’ Rob’s eyes twinkled playfully. ‘Honestly, what is a boy to do for gossip these days?’
Jack felt his defences collapse completely, and the hint of a smile started at the corner of his lips, ‘Rupert hasn’t said anything at all?’
‘Not a thing. It was only speculation on our behalf that you were involved until you spoke to Amy, and all she and Kit would say is that you hadn’t done anything wrong, and that it was all a misunderstanding.’
Hope dared to flicker in Jack’s chest. ‘Did you pass that on to Rupert?’
‘No way, mate! Rupert is the most private person in the world, and I respect that totally. He’s obviously down, but that could as easily be because of Helena and his fear that her crush could cost him his job than anything to do with your charms.’
‘Right.’ Jack couldn’t decide if that was good or not. He was relieved that Rupert was, as he’d suspected, a guy that kept his private life private. After almost two decades of his personal dealings being open for discussion – largely through his own indiscretions – he found this refreshing.
‘Sadly I can’t wait around, although I probably should.’ Jack glanced towards the door, half hoping that Rupert would walk through it early. ‘I have a hell of a lot to do.’
‘Bistro ready to roll then?’
‘Nearly. I’m missing two main members of staff, but otherwise, I am getting there.’ Which reminds me, I came over to talk to Phil as well. Can I leave Phil a note? Maybe I should leave one for Rupert...’
Rob tilted his head to one side, ‘Are you talking to me or yourself now?’
Jack shrugged. ‘Um, both, I think.’
‘You want a coffee while you wait, or have you really come all this way across London just to disappear again?’
‘When you put it like that, I guess it would be a waste of time not to hang on a bit.’
‘Exactly, anyway, it’s coffee time. Could you pop into the kitchen and stick the kettle on while I sort out the post?’
Passing Rob his coffee, and pulling out one of the stalls behind the desk that he used to sit on when he owned the bookshop, Jack concentrated on not letting his gaze stray to the front door too often. ‘This place doing alright then?’
‘It is. I never thought I’d see the day when we were employing extra staff, especially after how hard we had to struggle to keep the place open during the recession. Rupert has been a boon. His postcards have been a massive hit at Kew, and the teaching is proving far more popular than I could ever have imagined.’
‘Was that your idea? It’s fab.’
‘Can’t take credit for that one. That was Phil.’
‘Well,
I’m pleased for you all. My grandfather would have been thrilled to see his inheritance lead to so much great stuff. He loved the great outdoors as much as I do.’
‘And as much as Rupert does?’
Jack shook his head with a knowing grin. ‘You can stop fishing right there, Robert. There is nothing to tell. We had a misunderstanding. I came over here hoping to put it right. End of story.’
‘Message received and understood.’ Rob took a sip of coffee. ‘So, what do you think of this business at Pickwicks then?’
‘I know Peggy wouldn’t believe me, but I really do wish them well. They work so hard, a second branch is a fantastic idea.’
Rob put his mug down with a frown. ‘You mean you haven’t heard?’
‘Heard what?’
‘They lost the new café. The landlord bailed on them.’
‘What?’ Jack slopped some of his coffee over the side of his mug, burning his hand. As he sucked it better, he mumbled, ‘Seriously? You aren’t joking?’
‘Of course I’m not. Peggy and Scott are gutted.’
‘I bet they are. And what about Megan? She had a promotion tied up with the new place.’
‘She’ll have to go back to being the chief waitress rather than co-runner.’
‘But they must have invested so much in the new place. New crockery, menus ... everything?’
‘They did. According to Phil, Kit is looking after Pickwicks this morning so Scott and Peggy can see their solicitor and see what they can recoup from the mess.’
‘Do you think they’ll try for another place?’
‘I have no idea, mate. It’ll depend on if anything else they can afford is going, I suppose. They may not want to try again. Kit said they were very downhearted.’
‘I bet. I’d have been devastated if I was them.’ Getting off his stall, Jack pushed his coffee away, ‘I have to go. Do you have a piece of paper?’
Frowning, Rob pushed a notebook and a pen towards Jack. ‘Aren’t you going to wait for Phil and Rupert?’
‘I was. But if Kit is at Pickwicks I can talk to her instead of Phil, and hopefully, if Rupert is half the man I hope he is, he’ll understand.’
Dear Rupert,
I don’t blame you at all for not answering my calls, but I would like to explain. I have no idea what Gareth wants. He’s my old boss, and is very much in the past. Sorry I missed you this morning, but I have to go and make sure my friends at Pickwicks are alright. If you can face trying my menu after all, then give me a call.
Your friend,
Jack
Folding the piece of paper in half, Jack handed it to Rob. ‘I’m trusting you not to read this.’
Rob immediately placed the unopened note on Rupert’s desk. ‘As if I would!’
Jack rolled his eyes. ‘As if!’
Running towards the Underground station, Jack thought fast. If there wasn’t going to be a second Pickwicks, then Megan would be available to work for him. He stopped in his tracks. You can’t swoop in like a vulture and steal Megan now they are disappointed. Think, man, think...
By the time Jack had arrived at Richmond station, a plan had begun to form in his mind. A plan which could, should Peggy and Scott agree to it, solve all their problems in one go. Jack just hoped Peggy would let him cross the threshold of Pickwicks for long enough to be able to explain his idea.
‘It’s amazing. You’re so clever!’
‘Thanks, Kit.’ Megan hid the portrait of Peggy and Scott in its protected spot in Scott’s kitchen cupboard, ‘It’s beginning to come together. I don’t have much time to work on it at the moment, but it should be ready before Peggy’s birthday.’
‘Seems incredible that Peggy is going to be fifty-five. She doesn’t look old enough! I hope the solicitor is giving them good news this morning. It won’t be much of a birthday for her if they have to put their retirement plans on hold.’
Megan put her apron on, ready to face the first coffee drinkers of the day, ‘They won’t retire yet though, will they? I know Scott has to take it easy sometimes because of his legs and back, but they are so full of life. I can’t imagine this place without them.’
‘I know. Pickwicks is them, isn’t it? But I am fairly sure Scott finds the days a lot harder than he lets on sometimes. The fact he can walk at all is such a miracle. The plan is for them to retire early enough for them to be able to do all the things they want to do before Scott ends up in a wheelchair.’
Megan’s pale face grew even more pallid. ‘Is that the ultimate prognosis then? Will Scott end up in a chair?’
‘The more active he is now, the better for later – but yes. That’s what the consultant told him would most likely happen in the end. Which is why they want – well, need – a bungalow.’
‘And they are rare and expensive around here.’
‘Precisely.’ Kit put on one of the spare aprons. ‘Come on then, let’s open the café for them. I’ll help until Helena gets here at ten. If it goes quiet then, I’ll write. Otherwise I’ll keep going until Peggy and Scott get back.’
Chapter Twenty-nine
Thursday 21st July – 10.30 a.m.
As Peggy and Scott pushed open the door to their hot drinks-and-scones empire, Pickwicks was brimming with visitors. Exchanging glances, the café owners gave each other brave smiles as they watched Kit, Megan, and Helena engaging busily with their clients.
With an encouraging squeeze of his wife’s hand, Scott went into the kitchen as Peggy headed to the counter. Washing her hands, she plastered her very best customer service smile onto her face, then threw herself into the fray.
Politely excusing herself from the pensioner who was eagerly telling her, in fits of pink-cheeked giggles, about the latest sexy romance she’d been reading, Kit went to join Peggy at the counter. ‘And?’
‘I’ll tell you everything properly later, but the potted version is that we can’t claim back any of the money we have spent on stuff for the new place, though we have had our deposit returned as well as a small payment to cover the cost of the redecorating we did.’
Kit began to polish the coffee machine. ‘Is that good or not?’
‘Well it isn’t terrible, but it means we have nearly two thousand pounds worth of equipment we don’t need.’
‘Will you look for someone else? A different Pickwicks 2, I mean?’
‘I think we’ll have to, otherwise it’s all such a waste of money – not to mention plates, cutlery, and everything – but there’s very little is available in our price range right now. Not unless we’re prepared to travel right across London. And, to be honest, I’m not sure I can face doing all the preparation again and then potentially lose another place.’
The words of support that Kit had been about to give Peggy were lost with the arrival of a large group of young mums and toddler-filled pushchairs. The writer moved to serve the new arrivals.
Peggy looked confused. ‘Don’t you want to get back to work, now we’re back?’
‘After I’ve helped you deal with this lot! Anyway,’ Kit gave her friend a wink, ‘I’m writing about a café in my current novel. I can use this as research!’
‘Seriously? You’re writing a novel set in a café?’
‘Can you think of a better place to set a story about life, friends, love, and everything in between?’
12 p.m.
Not totally sure that Peggy would even let him into Pickwicks, Jack took a deep breath as he marched along the alleyway that led to the café.
As he’d travelled along on the Tube the solution had all seemed blindingly obvious. His idea was straight-forward and sensible, but he had no idea if Peggy and Scott would see it that way. It could be the very last thing they’d want to do. ‘Still,’ Jack said to himself, ‘I owe it to my friends to try.’
Peering through the window, Jack saw how busy it was inside. He hesitated. He could see that Kit was still there, which meant that either Peggy and Scott weren’t back from their meeting, or that it was so busy, they needed
every available hand, and she’d been wrenched up off her writers’ seat to pitch in.
As he watched, Helena came out of the kitchen, her hands full with plates of paninis and chips. He hadn’t considered that she’d be working today, and suddenly Jack wondered if he should return later. When Helena wasn’t there. Not that he’d done anything to upset his goddaughter directly – but if there was even a remote possibility of something happening with Rupert, then Jack suspected Helena wouldn’t exactly be thrilled with him.
Checking his watch, his common sense took hold. Of course they’re busy, you idiot, it’s lunchtime. Backing away, hoping none of his friends had spotted him loitering outside, Jack returned to the bistro to think things through more rationally. Maybe he’d make a few notes. A proper business plan, perhaps...
Kit had just collapsed onto her seat in the corner of the café when her phone rang.
‘Oh, hi, Amy ... no, no real news as such. Peggy’s going to fill us in at closing time. Looks as if it’ll be a case of having to find a new place so they don’t lose the money they’ve spent on new equipment ... How are you, anyway?’
Midway through reassuring Amy that her insides feeling like a tumble dryer on full cycle was perfectly normal at that stage of pregnancy, Kit saw the door to the café open a fraction and Jack poke his head around it.
‘Amy, I have to go. Jack’s here ... yes, Jack! I’m pretty sure he is still barred ... yes, I’ll call as soon as I know what’s happening.’
Not sure if Peggy had noticed Jack’s tentative arrival or not, Kit scooted to the door. ‘Jack, what are you doing here? This isn’t the best day to appeal to Peggy’s better nature.’
‘I heard.’ Jack glanced towards the kitchen door. ‘Rob told me. He assumed I already knew. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because Peggy already thinks you’re out to steal her trade – or at least she did until Amy spoke to her – but if you knew about Pickwicks 2 falling through you might have asked Megan to work for you again, and that would not have gone down well.’
