Another Glass of Champagne

by Jenny Kane

  Hanging up the phone, Rupert found that his palms were sweating. God knows what they’d make of Jack.

  He didn’t have time to think about it for long though, as one of the children was tugging a man towards the counter. ‘That’s him, Dad, that’s the nice man who talks about naughty squirrels at Kew Gardens!’

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Saturday 30th July

  ‘Sorry to turn up so soon after you’ve got home. I can disappear again if you like?’ Kit had arrived on Amy and Paul’s doorstep at nine o’clock in the morning, weighed down by carrier bags.

  ‘Not at all.’ Paul pointed to Kit’s luggage, ‘But if you’re planning on moving in, I have to warn you, we’re about to become packed to the rafters. We’re expecting Amy’s parents any moment.’

  Kit laughed. ‘Don’t worry; I won’t disturb you for long if you are on in-law alert.’ Holding up the bags, she said, ‘This lot was Helena’s. You may not want any of it, but it’s all yours if you do.’

  ‘Blimey. There’s loads in these! Are you sure you don’t want to keep any of it?’

  ‘I’ve been having a grand clear-out. There’s a bulging suitcase of all the baby clothes I’m too sentimental to part with still at home.’

  Taking the bags from Kit, Paul gestured towards the living room door. ‘Amy and Poppy are in there. Go on through, they’ll be pleased to see you.’

  Kit pushed open the door and peeked in, moving quietly in case the girls were asleep.

  Amy had been lying on the sofa, her eyes closed, as Poppy dozed in a wicker Moses basket, but she snapped to attention as her friend walked into the room. ‘Kit! How wonderful. I’ve been dying to introduce you to Poppy. Come on in.’

  ‘Don’t get up! I didn’t mean to wake you.’

  ‘You didn’t. I was only resting my eyes while madam there was spark out.’

  Tiptoeing across the carpet, Kit looked down at the tiny form, snug in a pale yellow romper suit, her hand clutching the leg of a matching coloured teddy bear. ‘Oh, Amy, she’s adorable!’

  A happy smile crossed Amy’s face. ‘Thanks. She is, isn’t she?’

  ‘Keeping you up?’ Kit assessed Amy more carefully, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the washed-out pallor to her already pale face.

  ‘She’s only three days old. We aren’t really in a routine yet.’

  Kit nodded. The sensation of non-stop demands, all of which resulted in her being worn out, from when the twins were babies was a feeling she would never forget.

  She sat next to her friend. ‘It’ll get easier, I promise.’

  ‘You sure?’ Amy stared at her hands. All the worries that kept her company in the middle of the night came racing to her lips, as unexpected tears appeared at the corners of her eyes. ‘What if I’m doing it wrong? What if I’m feeding her when she has tummy ache, or winding her when she wants to sleep or ... I don’t know. What if I don’t understand what my own child needs?’

  ‘Come here.’ Kit wrapped an arm around Amy. ‘Have a good cry, hun. You need to let go of it. Nothing you are saying is any different to what every other new mother says a couple of days in.’

  ‘Promise?’ Amy sniffed, unable to prevent the tears she’d been given permission to flow. ‘I love her so much. What if I’m letting her down?’

  ‘Spoken like a true parent.’ Kit reached for the tissue box on the coffee table. ‘Here you go. Have a good blow. Take a deep breath, wipe the sleep from your eyes, and then take a proper look at your little girl. Go on.’

  Amy frowned at Kit, not sure why she was being told to look at Poppy now, when that was all she’d been doing for the last two days. But as she watched her daughter, happy, comfortable, and relaxed in sleep, her grip still latched onto Jack’s teddy bear, Amy beamed.

  ‘She’s OK, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, love. She’s a knockout, and you are doing a great job. I guarantee that when the health visitor comes to check on you both, she will say exactly the same thing.’

  Amy hugged Kit just as Paul pushed open the door with a tray of drinks in his hands and two full carrier bags hanging off his fingers below.

  ‘Oh good grief, what’s that lot?’ Amy looked from Paul to Kit.

  ‘I forgot to say, in my eagerness to see my goddaughter; Phil and I have been having a sort-out. It seemed a good time to lay a few of my own ghosts to rest and tackle the twins’ baby clothes at the same time. We’ve been generally clearing and tidying out all the stuff I’ve never been strong enough to throw away. I wondered if there was anything here that you’d find useful. Anything you don’t want can go to charity.’

  Amy opened the first bag and pulled out a delightful pair of tiny cream tights and a flowery soft blue dress wrapped together in white tissue paper. ‘These are gorgeous. Are you sure you don’t want to keep them?’

  ‘Slim though Helena is, I can’t see her squeezing into those again.’

  ‘You know what I mean!’

  ‘I know. I was saying to Paul just now, I’ve got a suitcase packed to the brim with the clothes I’m keeping for sentimental reasons. These are the extras; they’re too good to throw away.’

  Amy laid the tiny dress on her lap. ‘I can’t imagine Helena ever having been that small.’

  ‘The twins were early like Poppy, so they were pretty dinky. There are premature sizes in this bag. The other one is a mix of newborn and nought-to-three months clothes.’

  The ring of the doorbell sent Paul to his feet again. As he disappeared, Amy leaned towards Kit and speaking quietly, asked, ‘You sure about this, Kit? Are you OK now? I know you haven’t been having a great time yourself lately.’

  Kit’s gaze fell on the form of Poppy, who was beginning to wriggle in a way that made it clear she’d be waking up very soon. ‘I’m fine. Back to my old take on the world self. Phil has been amazing. Really understanding about my empty nest thing. And with you and Peggy onside, how could I not be alright? Thanks for bearing with me on this, Amy. I was worried my sadness at leaving the life you’re just beginning would ruin it for you. I’d hate to have done that.’

  ‘You couldn’t ruin this for me. Look at her!’

  ‘The problem with my two children being exactly the same age is that they arrived together and will leave together. I went from a house of two to a house of four literally overnight. Now the reverse is about to happen, it feels very odd.’

  ‘I bet it does.’

  ‘It’s only six weeks now until Thomas leaves for Exeter and Helena heads to Bath; assuming they get their A levels.’

  ‘Which they will, because they are every bit as clever as their parents.’

  ‘Well, they’re certainly as clever as their parents used to be!’ Kit laughed, not allowing herself to dwell on the twins’ forthcoming departure. ‘Do you mind if I take a few pics of Poppy to show Peggy and Megan? They’ll kill me if I don’t bring them a full progress report. It looks as though she’s stirring anyway, so it won’t wake her.’

  ‘No problem.’

  The buzz of excited voices came from the hallway, as Kit put her phone in her pocket and stood to leave. ‘Sounds as if your parents have arrived. I’ll leave you to it.’

  Amy’s grin widened further. ‘Thanks for these, Kit. I’ll have a good sort through later, but I can’t imagine I’ll waste any of it. You don’t have to rush off. My folks would love to meet you.’

  ‘And I’d love to meet them, but this is their big grandparent moment. Anyway, Thomas gets home from his travels tomorrow. I can’t wait to see him. I’m even looking forward to tackling the pile of washing that he’ll be bringing with him. So I’ve got a fair bit to do at home once I’ve written today’s word quota.’ Kit watched Amy scoop a restless Poppy from the crib. ‘Come and see us at Pickwicks soon. The others are dying to see you and Poppy, and there is so much news for you to catch up on. I’ll go out of the back door so you can meet your folks in peace.’

  ‘Thanks, Kit.’ Amy hadn’t finished waving to Kit’s retreating f
igure when the door burst open and her parents rushed in, engulfing their daughter and granddaughter in an effusively emotional cuddle.

  ‘Mum, Dad, I’m so glad you’re here!’ Amy burst into more happy tears as Paul rescued his daughter from the crush, before officially holding Poppy up to show her off.

  ‘Pippa, Frank, meet your granddaughter. This is Poppy Rose.’

  The second Kit walked across the threshold of Pickwicks she was more or less mugged by Peggy and Megan for the baby photos she’d promised to bring with her.

  After they’d all declared Poppy utterly gorgeous, and that they couldn’t wait for Amy to bring her over, Kit settled at her writing table and found herself on the receiving end of one of Peggy’s extra-large cups of black coffee.

  ‘You seem much happier today, Peggy. Would I be correct in assuming you have come to a decision about the second café?’

  ‘We have.’ Peggy glanced over her shoulder to make sure Megan could manage on her own for a moment, before sitting down. ‘I haven’t had the chance to talk to Jack or Megan yet, so this goes no further for now, but we’ve decided to take up Jack’s offer of the bistro share.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so pleased!’ Kit was delighted, ‘It’s such a perfect solution, and far less hassle for you and Scott. But, if you don’t mind me asking, what made you change your mind? I know you guys get on fine most of the time, but you’ve never been Jack’s number one fan.’

  ‘It was seeing him looking after Amy at the hospital. We all know their history well enough to suspect that can’t have been easy for him, and yet he did everything for her. Just for her. There was nothing in the situation for him at all. He was acting from pure love and kindness. I know you tell me he’s like that, but I’d never seen that side of him before.’

  ‘Yes you have!’ Kit felt indignant on Jack’s behalf. ‘He was brilliant when Scott was injured after the accident. Jack was here all the time keeping this place going.’

  Peggy was solemn. ‘That’s what Scott said, and of course you’re both right, but there is no denying Jack could have done that merely to get closer to Amy again. He had a lot of ground to make up with her at the time. I know you’ll think I’m being harsh, but this is our future. It’s our retirement plan. I absolutely had to keep emotion out of the decision.’

  ‘And yet it was emotion that finally decided you?’ Kit frowned.

  ‘Not emotion. It was a respect for Jack that I didn’t have before.’

  Unconvinced, but glad that Peggy’s decision had been made, Kit said, ‘Well, however you got there, I’m glad you’re going in with him. Let me know when it’s official and I’ll shout yippee out loud rather than just on the inside.’

  ‘Thanks, Kit. Scott is delighted. We’ve done a load of sums – all very dull – and it looks like the dream of buying a bungalow to retire, while not as close as we’d hoped, is a little nearer than it was yesterday.’

  Lifting her coffee cup, Kit smiled. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Saturday 30th July

  Jack had been covertly watching Rupert out of the corner of his eye since they’d climbed aboard the first-class compartment of the train. As they whizzed across the English countryside to Cambridge, Jack thought his friend looked almost as tired as Amy had when he’d visited her in the maternity ward.

  ‘Are you ready for this?’

  ‘As I’ll ever be.’ Rupert kept his eyes glued on the scenery outside the window, without really seeing it at all. ‘I’m not going to come out today, Jack. All I’m planning to do is to introduce you, and tell them about my new job. That’s enough in one go, believe me. You’ll understand that when you meet them.’

  ‘I didn’t expect you to come out. You’ll know when the time is right, and that is your decision to make, not mine.’ Getting up, Jack picked up their train tickets. ‘Time I waved these in the buffet cart and fetched our complementary coffee. You look like you need a caffeine fix.’

  Returning with two thick paper cups, Jack sat back down. ‘I know I’ve forced your hand, but I only meant to get you to contact your parents. To break the barriers down a bit. I’m sorry if I’ve made you lose sleep over this. Losing Mum ... it made me see that sometimes the tomorrow you think you’ll always have to sort things out doesn’t come.’

  ‘I know,’ Rupert smiled at his companion, ‘I wasn’t blaming you for my sleepless night. I blame myself. I got so fed up with my father’s digs and gibes about not doing a “proper job” that, rather than face him head on, I’ve hidden away. Doing nothing felt better than doing something else that was bound to disappoint him.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Jack placed a comforting hand lightly on Rupert’s thigh. ‘Maybe you should regard this as simply a trip to see your mother, and if you manage to get some sort of approval from your father that’ll be an added bonus.’

  Snorting through his resignation, Rupert placed his hand over Jack’s. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing my mother, but where my father is concerned we should be aiming for a more realistic goal. Let’s go for him not sighing and shaking his head theatrically in my direction more than twice.’

  Jack took a sip of his grainy coffee, ‘I have a feeling your father and I may not get on.’

  ‘I can guarantee it, but I’m sure my mother will like you – privately, at least.’

  ‘Oh my God, Rupert!’

  ‘What?’

  Jack stared out of the taxi window as they pulled onto a wide gravel driveway. ‘You never told me your parents lived in a mansion!’

  ‘It’s only a house Jack; it’s not a stately home or anything.’

  ‘Rupert, it’s a bloody huge house with grounds! That makes it a mansion in my book.’

  As the taxi came to a halt beside the front door, Jack half expected a butler to appear and magically open it for them.

  ‘I suppose it’s a little mansion-like. But that’s just it, you see. It’s a house. It isn’t a home.’ Paying the cab driver, Rupert stalked across the gravel. ‘Come on, I always use the back door.’

  They were almost at the rear of the house, which gave way to a tiered garden which was obviously a labour of love for someone, when Rupert stopped moving, and pulled Jack into the privacy of an ivy-clad nook in the wall.

  ‘You OK, Rupert?’

  ‘Nervous as hell, to be honest.’ Rupert whispered, keeping alert for signs of life. ‘I know I said I wasn’t coming out to them today, but ... well...’

  ‘Well what?’

  ‘Just seeing us together; won’t it be obvious?’

  A flutter of hope darted around Jack’s chest, and he couldn’t help but smile. ‘You think so? You think we look like a couple?’

  Rupert suddenly felt awkward. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Good.’ Jack backtracked, trying to keep the pleasure from his face, ‘Although perhaps not good here and now.’

  Taking a quick glance around to make sure there was no one about, he leaned forward and kissed Rupert lightly on the lips. ‘Being so close to you on the train and not kissing you was driving me nuts. Anyway, you needed that for luck.’

  Slightly flushed, Rupert said, ‘Well, now they’ll definitely guess, which I suppose will prevent me from having to actually tell them.’

  Jack shook his head kindly. ‘More likely they’ll think you’ve just dragged along your mate from the office along to say hello.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Sounding far from convinced, Rupert moved towards the back door. ‘They’ll be in the drawing room.’

  ‘Once more into the breach...’ Jack tapped Rupert backside as they moved towards the house. ‘One quick question before we go in?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Why don’t you wear jeans? Your bum would look so good in denim.’

  Rupert cheeks went a little pink as he said, ‘How about I tell you that on the way home?’

  ‘Home to my place?’

  ‘Oh yes. I’m going to need a cuddle or two after this.’ Rupert took a deep breath as he opened the
backdoor. ‘Here goes nothing then.’

  ‘Rupert, darling!’

  A slim, middle-aged woman in a floral summer dress, with rich auburn hair, swooped down upon her son with a smile so wide that Jack thought that Rupert must have been overplaying the under-the-thumb wife card. His mother was so like him. Similar build, hair colour, and now that Jack found himself faced with her neat outstretched, freckled arm, so he could shake her hand, he noticed that Rupert, just like baby Poppy, had inherited his mother’s eyes.

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs Ashton.’ Jack found himself smiling easily at the woman, whose grip gave away that she was much stronger than she appeared. He couldn’t help wondering if that applied to all parts of her personality too.

  ‘And you, Jack was it?’

  ‘Jack Brown, Mrs Ashton.’

  Rupert’s mother indicated a sofa opposite the armchair upon which she now perched, in the room where they’d found her. Far too posh to be merely a living room, this had to be the drawing room that Rupert had referred to.

  Following the unspoken instruction, Jack sat down as Rupert offered to make tea, and disappeared, presumably into the kitchen. Eager not to let any opportunities for awkward silences occur, Jack pointed to two watercolours over the fireplace. ‘What beautiful artwork. Did you paint those, Mrs Ashton?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’ Rather taken aback at the compliment, Mrs Ashton added, ‘I created those many years ago now, just after Rupert left for school.’

  ‘That must have been hard for you. I imagine he was great company as a child. Always into everything.’

  Mrs Ashton frowned. ‘Er, yes, yes he was. How did you know that?’

  ‘Rupert is so passionate about his work, about imparting knowledge to others. He seems interested in everything. Keenness and a zest for life like that is often inherited.’

  ‘Oh.’ At a loss for what to say, she said, ‘So, you work with Rupert then?’

  ‘I used to own the business where he works. I’ve been good friends with the current owners for many years.’ Not wanting to go too far down the road of how well he knew Rupert while he wasn’t in the room to speak for himself, Jack pointed again to the two watercolours. ‘May I take a closer look?’