by Jenny Kane
‘Failed what?’
‘Their A levels, of course – you know, like we were talking about a few seconds ago?’ Rob examined his assistant more carefully. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s happened?’
Rupert glanced around the shop, which was empty again, ‘Could you man the shop on your own for a while, Rob? I’m really sorry, but I have to go.’
‘It’s not Jack, is it? The party is still on?’
‘What? Oh, yes, the party’s on, but I’m not sure I’ll be there.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’ve got to see my mother. She’s just walked out on my father!’
Rupert tried to remain rational. There was no way he was going to have time to catch the train to Cambridge, find his mother, sort things out, and get back in time for the party and to see Jack be officially named as one of Poppy’s godparents.
He tried to call Jack again, but his mobile was never on in the kitchen. It was too early for Megan to be in the restaurant, so although he’d tried the landline number, Rupert wasn’t surprised when no one picked the call up.
It was all his fault. If he hadn’t turned up at his parents’ home with Jack, he was sure, this wouldn’t have happened. He should have kept things as they were. That way, although he would still have been on his own, his mother and father would be together. Rupert’s heart constricted. Would the price of reuniting his parents be giving Jack up? Could I do that? He felt sick at the mere idea. And what about Mother? Am I being cruel wanting her to stay with such an antiquated man just because I don’t want divorced parents?
As he arrived at the station, Rupert made a beeline for the departure boards. He was checking the time of the next train from Marylebone to Cambridge when his phone rang. He couldn’t decide if he was pleased or disappointed it wasn’t Jack when he realised it was his mother’s number flashing on the screen.
‘Mum? Are you alright? I’m on my way.’
Angela Ashton spoke softly so she didn’t make her son jump. ‘So I see.’
Rupert spun around to see his mother, talking to him through the phone, but also standing only a few feet away. His confusion was overtaken by relief that she was, physically at least, fine.
‘What’s going on? Are you OK?’
‘Better than I’ve been for years, Rupert. But are you?’ Angela frowned as she scrutinised her son’s panicked expression. ‘You called me Mum. You never call me Mum. Although I think I prefer it. Mother is a bit stuffy, don’t you think?’
Rupert opened his mouth, but it was a few seconds before he could find the words. ‘Well ... yes, I always though Mum and Dad would be nicer than Mother and Father, but Father wouldn’t wear it, and it sort of stuck.’
‘And yet you called me Mum just now.’
‘Feels more right now, somehow. Not sure why.’
Rupert looked at his mother properly for the first time in years. More relaxed than he’d ever seen her, her hair was shiny, and her expression, which was usually one of indecision as to whether she should look pleased or not, was serene. Her eyes looked clear and bright. Her shoulders were back, her hunched, tense air gone. She looked stunning in her summer dress and sandals.
Rupert glanced at the small suitcase on wheels by her feet. ‘You really have left him, haven’t you?’
‘Long overdue.’ Sensing what her son was going to say next, Angela held her hand up to stop him. ‘And no, it is not your fault. It isn’t Jack’s fault either. It’s my fault.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Come on, we need a cup of coffee. I’ll tell you all about it.’
Allowing her to steer him towards the nearest café, Rupert sat deep in thought, before texting Jack to apologise for not being there to help prepare for the party, as his mum returned with the drinks.
‘The short version is that when we got back to the hotel after the launch, your father had one too many whiskeys, and his opinions about gay people rather clashed with my own. Simply put, I’ve had enough of his bigotry and stuck-in-the-past attitude. And I’ve had enough of being squashed. That’s how it’s felt, Rupert; that I’ve been squashed for years. I want to paint again, to explore the world a bit, to work in a stately home garden, to do something other than being the businessman’s wife.’
‘Did you say all that to Father?’
Angela pulled a face. ‘You can imagine his response.’
Rupert shook his head sadly, ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I know you’ve done the right thing, but I’m still sorry.’
Taking her son’s hand, Angela said, ‘I do love him, Rupert, but I’m tired of being taken for granted. I haven’t quite given up hope of opening his eyes to the twentieth century. We’ll see if he realises what he’s lost before I get too into being footloose and fancy-free, shall we?’
Rupert couldn’t help but smile. ‘You think he’ll fight to get you back?’
‘I hope so, but if he doesn’t then it’s his loss.’
‘You’re remarkable!’ Rupert stood up. ‘Come on, Mum, if we get a move on, we can get back to the bistro in time for the start of the party. You can drop your stuff at my place on the way, there’s plenty of room. I’m basically living at Jack’s now, so Megan’s using it as her temporary studio.’
‘Thanks, Rupert.’
His mum was smothering him in a cuddle when Rupert said, ‘Hang on, did you say it was time to drag Father into the twentieth century? Surely you mean the twenty-first?’
‘One step at a time!’ Angela laughed. ‘Now, enough of your father. I want to hear all about this photography competition. I am so proud of you!’
Chapter Forty-five
Thursday 18th August
Sweat ran down the back of Phil’s shirt. By the time he finally pushed open the front door after sprinting from the Tube to his home, he was a mass of anxiety – not to mention absolutely roasting.
During the journey, he had gone from imagining Kit with a miserable and disappointed twin by her side, who was having to go through the clearing process to get a place on a different course, to thinking they’d both failed everything and their mum didn’t know who to comfort first. It had been like that when the twins were babies. One pair of hands hadn’t been enough when they’d been hungry, tired, or needed their nappies changing at exactly the same time.
Kit was on the sofa, box of tissues in hand, eyes streaming, a carbon copy of how he’d found her sitting only a few weeks before.
‘What is it, love? What’s wrong? Where are the kids?’
‘Out. Celebrating.’
Phil frowned. ‘Celebrating? Then why...?’
‘They got the grades. They’re going, Phil. They’re really going. They arrived together, and now they’re going together, all at once.’
Phil felt torn between finding the twins to tell them how incredibly proud he was of them, yelling at Kit for making him panic, and biting his tongue while he held his wife tightly. She clearly hadn’t got as far past the empty nest syndrome as she’d made out. Trying not to make it obvious that he was looking at his watch to see how long they had before getting ready for the party, he crouched before her.
‘Come on, love, wipe your eyes. We should be thrilled for the kids. They’ve worked so hard for this.’
‘I know.’ Kit sniffed, ‘I feel like the biggest cow for crying. I am so proud of them. And I’m excited for them, really I am. But it means they’re going to leave home next month, doesn’t it?’
Pushing Kit’s fringe from her teary eyes, Phil spoke softly. ‘It means they are going to have an incredible adventure. To make their own mistakes, have their own successes, and stand on their own two feet. You wouldn’t begrudge them that, would you?’
‘Of course not. I want them to go; I want them to have everything they want. It’s just...’
‘Come on, love, we’ve been through all this. You are allowed to miss them, you know!’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’ Kit leaned forward and hugged her endlessly understanding husband, ‘Wh
at would I do without you?’
‘I dread to think.’ He winked at her. ‘Now, I want to see the twins. Where are they? What grades did they get exactly?’
‘I promised I wouldn’t say. They want to tell you themselves.’ Taking a long ragged breath, Kit cleared her eyes with a decisive wipe, ‘They’re grabbing a drink with their mates in the pub on the corner before heading to Jack’s.’
‘Well, come on then, we’ll join them.’
‘They won’t want us cramping their style!’
Phil shook his head. ‘First you don’t want them to go, then you don’t want to go and see them. What are you like, woman?’
‘Oh, you know what I mean!’
‘Yes I do, but on this occasion the kids will have to put up with it!’ Phil spoke decisively. ‘Go and lose all trace of those tears. We’ll nip to the pub so I can find out what they got, and then we’ll come home and get ready. We can’t be too long or we’ll be late for Poppy’s do.’
Taking her kindly mother-in-law’s advice, Amy applied an extra layer of foundation to the dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so exhausted in her life. Although she had tried to get back to sleep after breakfast, she hadn’t been able to switch off. Now, as she peered down at Poppy, who smiled up from her crib, Amy mentally crossed her fingers that her daughter wouldn’t get her cream dress grubby before the naming ceremony, and that she might manage not to be hungry again until after the meal.
Amy had been so looking forward to today; to seeing all her friends and showing off her daughter, but now the time to get ready had arrived, she wasn’t sure she even had the energy to stand up.
As her gaze landed on the dress hanging on her wardrobe door, Amy couldn’t help but remember the last party when they’d all been together. Before she was married; before Jack had run away. She hadn’t been sure she wanted to go to that party either, although for very different reasons.
A gurgle from the crib made Amy smile through her fatigue. ‘Alright, Pop, I hear you. You’re ready to party with Uncle Jack and Auntie Kit. Tell you what: I’ll do you a deal. You let me have a rest, and enjoy the afternoon, and then I’ll take you to the soft play area in the park the very second you are old enough to go!’
Thomas and Helena, flushed from their recent successes, were getting their respective instructions from Jack and Megan. Teresa was looking nervous but happy as Peggy helped her get to grips with Jack’s coffee machine, Scott was putting out cups and saucers, and Craig was bustling around The Olive Branch’s kitchen, making sure every plate was laid out ready to be filled with the food he and Jack had been preparing since eleven that morning.
Everything was ready.
Jack looked at the clock on the wall. It was half past twelve. ‘Where the hell is Rupert?’
Megan shrugged. ‘Amy isn’t here yet either, but then babies always have last minute feeds, nappy changes and stuff. I assumed Rupert, Kit, and Phil would be here early though.’
‘Rupert has sent a few texts, so I know he and Angela are on their way.’
‘Not his father?’ Megan straightened a tablemat that didn’t need straightening.
‘If the garbled message he left on my voicemail is anything to go by, then Angela has walked out on him.’
‘Seriously? Oh my goodness.’
Jack frowned. ‘I have a horrible feeling it might be my fault.’
‘How on earth can it be your fault?’
Megan didn’t have time to hear Jack’s reply, for the first of many knocks on the bistro door came as Nick, closely followed by Lauren and Chris from Home Hunters and Rob, Debbie, and their three girls, arrived.
No sooner had they been provided with drinks when Phil and a rather pink Kit arrived. Megan raised her eyebrows playfully. ‘You wouldn’t be a touch worse for drink, would you, Mrs Lambert?’
‘As if!’ Kit grinned. ‘We might have had a drink or two to congratulate the twins.’
Megan’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Their exams. I forgot to ask them. I’m so sorry.’
Phil looked surprised. ‘Didn’t they tell you?’
‘Not a word, although to be honest, as soon as they crossed the threshold they were press-ganged into work. There hasn’t been time for talking. How did they do?’
‘Brilliantly!’ Kit hiccupped. ‘Oh dear, I think I’d better start with a very strong coffee!’
‘Teresa is manning the coffee machine,’ Megan laughed, communicating to Peggy and her new waitress that the need for caffeine in her vicinity was suddenly urgent. ‘So, how did they do?’
Kit opened her mouth to share the news, but Phil butted in. ‘We should let the twins tell everyone after the meal.’
Nodding profusely, Kit thanked Teresa for the coffee, before asking Megan where Amy was.
‘Not here yet, nor is Rupert or ...’ Megan turned as the door opened, ‘I stand corrected. Here they are.’
Amy, and Paul with baby Poppy in his arms, came in together with both sets of parents, laden with changing bags and a crib, closely followed by Rupert and Angela. Covertly beckoning to Megan while Jack wasn’t looking, Rupert passed her a bag that he’d been hiding behind his back.
Peering inside the carrier bag, Megan asked, ‘Are these what I think they are?’
Rupert put a finger to his lips. ‘They are. Not a word, OK?’
Megan’s heart rate increased as she slipped the carrier bag behind the bar. Then, picking up the nearest bottle of champagne and hoping that she could open it without spilling too much, she popped the first cork of the evening.
Chapter Forty-six
Thursday 18th August
Scott, resplendent in a dashing suit and bow tie, stood with Amy, Paul, and baby Poppy.
‘We are here to welcome the beautiful Poppy Rose Donahue into the caring arms of her family, her godparents, and her friends.’
Happiness swelled in Amy’s chest, her exhaustion forgotten as they she listened to Scott welcome her child to the world.
‘Poppy, daughter of Amy and Paul, has already endeared herself to us all. On this day of many celebrations, we formally introduce Poppy to her appointed honorary godparents, those adults who she will be able to turn to for help through the course of her life. Please come forward, Kit, Phil, Debbie, Rob, and Jack.’
His face shining with joy, Rupert watched as Jack took his place next to Debbie. He knew his boyfriend had never thought this day would come; that there had been a time when the idea Jack and Amy could even be friends had been laughable.
Rupert caught his mother’s eye. She looked free somehow, and yet as he observed her watching Kit take Poppy from Paul, and promise before them all to care for her for ever, Rupert knew his mother was quietly coming to terms with the huge changes that were suddenly entering her own life.
Kit passed an obliging Poppy to Phil, who repeated the same promise his wife had just made. Then, at last, it was Jack’s turn. Scott inclined his head to his new business partner. ‘And finally, Jack, do you also willingly take on the responsibility of caring for Poppy whenever she needs you, to help guide her along the mixed pathways of life?’
Holding his newest goddaughter close, Jack was in danger of being overcome with emotion. Here he was in his new business, being watched by a man he knew he’d fallen in love with, surrounded by his best friends, and cradling a tiny version of Amy, who was staring up at him with wide, unblinking blue eyes that he was sure weren't ever going to miss a thing. Jack’s mutter of, ‘Oh, yes,’ was almost lost as his voice choked up, while a miniature hand gripped his thumb as though it was never going to let go.
Scott was still talking, wrapping up the simple ceremony, but Jack didn’t hear him. He was too busy struggling with the rapid realisation that, after years of messing up, years of travelling and trying to find himself, what he’d been searching for had been here all along. He had a real chance of happiness. And this time, he was determined he wasn’t going to cock it up.
Sending up a silent prayer of thanks
that her daughter had neither cried over, nor been sick down, the front of any of her godparents, Amy settled a sleeping Poppy into the crib which Paul had installed in Jack’s bedroom, switched on the baby monitor, and returned to her friends.
Sinking onto a chair with Paul on one side and Jack on the other, Amy let out a sigh of relief just as Helena and Teresa came out of the kitchen, their arms carefully balancing dinner plates.
Once the food was served, and the waiting staff had joined them at the table, Paul got to his feet, and holding up his glass of champagne, said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to join me in a toast to Jack, Debbie, Rob, Kit, and Phil for agreeing to be there for Poppy – and to Scott for being such a gifted non-vicar!’
The brief round of applause was halted by Jack, who got to his feet, tapping a spoon against his glass to capture everyone’s attention. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not about to give a load of speeches. I just wanted to quickly thank you all for your support in getting The Olive Branch off the ground. Especially to Peggy, Scott, and Megan. Now, enough of that – let’s eat!’
As appreciative noises about the food, the restaurant, and general chatter filled the bistro, Jack sat back in his seat and allowed himself a moment of calm. He thought the launch had gone well, but only when the papers and magazines reported their opinions would he know if he was destined to be just another chef, or one who could try for a Michelin star; an ambition he hadn’t even shared with Rupert yet.
Yet, as he watched his friends, who’d already demolished the starters and were now polishing off the main course with a fervour that told him, for them at least, his culinary skills were not in question, Jack knew that running a standard family restaurant wouldn’t be the end of the world.
As Helena got up to collect the empty plates, and Thomas did the rounds with refilling glasses with more champagne, Jack got back to his feet. ‘As you are well aware, today’s party is to celebrate the birth of Poppy Rose, but it is also a good excuse for a long overdue get together, and to congratulate a few other people.’
