The New Beginnings Coffee Club

by Samantha Tonge

  He gazed at the floor. ‘Jenny – I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but like I’ve said … the marriage wasn’t something I’d planned.’ He looked up. ‘We’ve grown apart. You must have felt it, too. Please. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.’

  ‘Me make things difficult? I love how you’ve turned this around.’ I bit the insides of my cheeks. Never again would I give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. ‘We were happy, Zak,’ I said and my voice wavered. ‘Couldn’t keep our hands off each other in the beginning. Isn’t that spark still there? How can you be so robotic? Isn’t there an ounce of emotion in you for your wife of ten years?’

  He stared at the floor again, where shortly afterwards my self-esteem joined his gaze.

  ‘When was the last time we talked?’ he said. ‘Really properly talked? Like we used to, at the beginning, sitting up till the small hours, arguing over stuff like who was the best UK fashion designer? The last few years, I don’t know, it’s felt like we’ve just been going through the motions.’

  My breath caught in my throat because he’d voiced what I’d recently wondered, but hadn’t liked to admit. I slumped back into my chair. Zak sat down in his. ‘But … I mean … We never really … I always thought the chemistry was enough?’ I whispered, pulse thumping loudly in my ears.

  Zak raised one eyebrow. ‘In your heart do you honestly think that?’

  I stared at him.

  Yes. No. I don’t know.

  This was all new to me – questioning our relationship. ‘You really do like Chanelle, don’t you?’ I said, quietly. ‘It’s not just a physical thing.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Maybe you’re right. I’ve thought about this too.’ And not just a bit, but night after night since he revealed his affair. ‘Especially at the beginning, life was busy; evenings we both just chilled in front of the telly, you exhausted after work, me relaxing from a day of nappies and feeds. But that’s normal, right? And April’s getting older now. Surely we can take more time for us and put things right?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Jenny. I just don’t think we’ve that much in common any more.’

  ‘We’ve got a daughter,’ I snapped. ‘All couples grow apart when bringing up kids. But we’ve got retirement ahead of us and –’

  ‘I’m not writing off my life until then!’

  My stomach caved in as if he’d punched me square in the navel. ‘I’m sorry that’s how you’d see staying with me.’

  ‘It’s not enough,’ he muttered. ‘Not any more. Sorry, to be so honest but –’

  ‘Better late than never,’ I said, with a generous dose of sarcasm.

  He sighed. ‘Look, I’m moving in with Chanelle tonight.’

  My hand flew to my mouth. ‘Zak. No. Please not that. Don’t move in with them. Imagine how April will feel, knowing her dad is living with her best friend.’

  ‘April will get used to it.’

  Oh God. This was like some twisted parallel universe.

  ‘At least do me this one thing, Zak. You owe me.’

  He raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Hold off moving in with Chanelle. Let April get used to our breakup first. You live here until the house is sold.’

  ‘Then you’ll stay?’

  ‘No,’ I said, in measured tones. ‘If you and I are really over then I can’t. I need to get away from this place.’

  He thumped his fist on the table – some emotion, at last, yet a sign of the temper that had emerged since the passing of his mum. Zak’s eyes blazed. ‘You moving her out of here is going to be more of an upheaval than me moving in with Chanelle, what with April leaving her bedroom and everything familiar.’ He folded his arms. ‘Go if you must, but our daughter stays put.’

  ‘I’m not staying in this house a minute longer than necessary,’ I said, heart racing. ‘And neither is she. What’s the point? The house will be on the market as soon as possible, so she’d have to move out then anyway.’

  Zak’s chair scraped back and he stood up. ‘You are making it very difficult for us to just sort all this out between ourselves. April should stay in her home with a parent who has a decent job.’

  ‘As you know, I have a job, thanks to Noah. It’s local. And it comes with accommodation. And I’m sure any court would be more sympathetic to the parent who had stayed loyal to the family unit. And your job could hardly be called decent if it’s based on a business that is on the brink of going bust.’

  ‘You barely know that Noah guy!’ shouted Zak. ‘I won’t allow it. He could be an axe murderer or …’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. The only way he could kill someone would be death by caffeine. There’s a lock on our door and it’s no different to renting a bedsit because, you know, that’s how ordinary people manage, Zak …’ My voice shook. ‘Not everyone lives in a mansion with more personal space than a moonwalker and alarmed doors with a direct hotline to the local police station.’

  He snorted. ‘How would you know? I’ve provided you with a life of luxury. You’ll never manage on your own.’

  My body tensed. It was one thing me thinking that. Quite another him being of the same opinion.

  ‘Don’t you dare judge me! I’ll manage just fine. As I’ve proven. It hardly took me long to find a job and accommodation.’

  ‘You can’t do this,’ he said, quietly.

  ‘I think you’ll find I can,’ I said, in tones more confident than I felt. ‘Don’t even think about trying to stop me. I mean it.’ I stared at him hard. ‘My work hours will be shorter than yours. I have an excellent case for being the hands-on parent. You’re always working late or entertaining. And you’ve got to let Dot go. Who will be around to look after April?’

  ‘Okay, then Chanelle and Skye can move into The Willows, temporarily, and perhaps with her income –’

  I winced. ‘You’d really throw that on April, at this early stage?’

  He paused and then said, ‘I’ll fight you on this, Jenny. Every inch of the way. You’d never beat me in court. I’ll beg or borrow, call in every favour owed to me, to hire a top solicitor. April will hate leaving her comforts behind. You’ll see. Give it a few days and she’ll be desperate to come back.’

  ‘I think you underestimate our girl,’ I said stiffly and left the summerhouse. ‘And I still think you’re deluded about just how much our circumstances have changed, so I’ve already started to look into her attending another school, next term. It’s been hard, but I’ve finally accepted she’ll have to leave her friends. Not now, though. It’s mid-term. Too disruptive. At least we’ve paid up until the end of this year.

  Silence. I stopped and turned around. Zak stared at the lawn.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  Slowly, he looked up and ran a hand through his hair. ‘She’s got to leave as soon as possible,’ he muttered. ‘I … I’ve been putting off telling you. I hoped the school might change their minds, give me more time to –’

  An icy sensation pierced my chest. ‘Zak? We have paid for this term, right?’

  He bit his lip. ‘No. In fact …’ his face crumpled ‘… we’re two terms in arrears. Our chances have run out. April has to leave as soon as possible. The head’s been really generous about it, but she just can’t extend her goodwill any further.’

  I gasped. ‘Zak! Why didn’t you tell me? Instead of sticking your head in the sand?’ Wasn’t I a good listener? Couldn’t he trust me with bad news? Did he really think me so fragile?

  ‘Guess I didn’t want to face the truth,’ he said. ‘And if I told you I’d have to.’

  I shook my head. Stood open-mouthed. I had no words and turned back around.

  My throat felt dry as I stalked across the garden, biting the insides of my cheeks again. I’d show Zak how I could provide for myself and for our daughter. And I’d sort out a new school, too. Yet a heavy, uncomfortable sensation weighed down my chest. I had niggling doubts as to how well April would settle into a new
life. As a desperate last measure, I’d even tried to moot moving to Noah’s cottage as something of an adventure.

  ‘We’re really going to leave here, then? Leave Daddy? Leave my walk-in wardrobe and Dot?’ she’d said.

  ‘There’s a river at the bottom of the garden, sweetheart. And imagine living in a loft. You’ll be sleeping higher than Rapunzel.’

  ‘It’s more like the dwarves’ cottage in Snow White.’ She’d gulped. ‘Small. And it will stink of coffee.’

  ‘And of cake,’ I’d continued, in the same cheery tone. Yet it killed me to see her mouth pucker and those eyes fill.

  ‘It won’t smell as good as Dot’s baking.’ Tears had run down her face as she stamped her foot. ‘Why are you being so selfish, disagreeing with me and Daddy? Don’t you care what I want? I won’t do it! Go on your own. I’m not moving. You can’t make me!’

  She’d stormed off to her room. I dreaded telling her that her home was going to be sold and belong to another family, so I’d held off. Perhaps that sick feeling inside was how Zak had felt about sharing bad news with me – but then I was an adult. My fears were based on April being a vulnerable, confused child. My knees had given way after she’d left and I’d collapsed onto the lounge floor. Head in my hands, the sound of my muffled sobs was almost as loud as the rapid beat of my heart. I recognised her anger for what it really was – pure, unadulterated hurt caused by the adulterous acts of her dad. The hurt at leaving behind Zak and the trappings of our extravagant, familiar life.

  Would she ever adapt? Could she and I really pen a new life map? Or would her tears water an ever-growing need in her to return to the spoilt existence we’d both enjoyed before? Could I manage a budget? Could I still succeed in being the best mum I could be, without money? The answer should have been a no-nonsense ‘yes’ but doubting voices niggled my conscience, voices that knew I was scared of the unknown.

  Chapter Six

  I gazed at April’s bed and the pink headboard in the shape of a giant crown. A glittery chandelier hung from the ceiling and fairy lights trailed the coving. Heart motifs lined the wall above the entrance to her walk-in wardrobe and matched a shaped fluffy rug on the floor. Over the last year, more grown-up aspects had appeared, like a poster of her favourite pop group. April and her new friends dreamed of belonging to a girl band.

  I stole a glance at my daughter who stood by my side at the door, mouth downturned. What a contrast to the day she’d first seen her newly decorated bedroom. Squeals had filled the air and she’d given Zak and me the tightest hugs ever. I smiled. At that point she’d still played mostly with toys. Zak and I had listened at the door as she explained to her dolls that the wardrobe was their own particular new home.

  ‘Are the guinea pigs packed?’ she asked in a flat voice.

  ‘Yes.’ It was good of Noah to let us keep them in his garden.

  ‘Tell me again why we have to leave. I don’t understand. The house is big. Skye had a good idea – why can’t you and Daddy just have half each?’

  I knelt down and took her hand. Her gold nail varnish was peeling. Her bottom lip jutted out.

  ‘Daddy and I can’t live in the same house together any more, sweetie.’

  ‘Why don’t you love each other any more?’ Her voice cracked.

  My chest squeezed at red blotches around her eyes. I’d heard her sobbing in bed last night but when I’d gone into her room she froze and pretended to sleep.

  ‘We will always care for each other because of our gigantic love for you, but … you know Daddy and Chanelle are together now.’

  ‘But you and Chanelle are friends, aren’t you? And Daddy doesn’t want you to move out – he wants to stay friends too.’

  Inwardly I sighed. I still hadn’t seen that woman since I learned of the affair. Us adults had tried to make things as pain-free as possible for the children. I’d avoided words like fault and hate. At least it was one thing Zak and I agreed on – not to play the blame game. Although now and again I reached screaming point, and just wanted to stamp my foot, bawl and yell that yes, I hated my ex best friend and it was Daddy’s fault.

  ‘We just all want what is best for you and Skye,’ I said. ‘Me and Daddy separating has got nothing to do with you. In fact, you are the most fab-u-licious bit of both of us.’ I stood up. ‘And so it just means … things will be the same but different. Skye still sees her dad, doesn’t she? Just not at the same time as her mum.’

  Her chin wobbled. ‘It won’t be the same at all. Daddy won’t come in from work every night and let me fetch him a bowl of crisps. Dot won’t cook for us any more. And where will I put all my make-up and toys?’

  I squeezed her hand. I’d answered these questions a hundred times already, over the last few days.

  ‘You now have two homes,’ I said brightly. ‘And in one you’ll have a room in a really cool loft, right next to a coffee shop.’

  ‘I don’t even know Noah that well. Stupid name,’ she muttered. ‘But two homes will be cool. Daddy’s staying here. That means that one day we might be able to sort something out and move back.’

  I stared at her. Hardly breathed. Shivered as dread filled my chest. In that moment I realised it was time to tell her the truth. Well, a watered-down version, that left out scary words such as bankruptcy. She had enough to worry about as it was. I stiffened my body and prepared myself for the sight of her crushed hope – the broken face, her understanding that everything familiar she’d come to love would end up belonging to someone else.

  ‘No, sweetie.’ I cleared my throat. ‘Even if Daddy stays here, it won’t be for ever.’

  Her brow furrowed. ‘Why not?’

  I took a deep breath. ‘The business is having a tricky time. All companies do at one time or another. In our case, it means selling The Willows and putting some of that money into Elite Eleganz, to make everything okay again. But Daddy will buy another lovely house – with a special room for you. It will just be a bit smaller. Then you’ll have the fun of decorating it and–’ I spoke quickly, as if somehow that would help.

  ‘Sell? The Willows?’ Her jaw dropped. ‘But it’s our home, Mum. My bedroom. Your summerhouse. I don’t understand.’ She burst into tears. ‘Please tell me this is a joke.’

  Oh God. This was even harder than I’d imagined. I felt like the worst mum in the world, even though I wasn’t to blame for this situation. Or was I? Had I caused Zak’s wandering eye? Was I also the worst wife in the world? Nothing seemed sure in this new life of mine. Everything I thought about myself had been thrown into question. Doubts had replaced contentment. Comfort had been swapped with torment.

  ‘I know, darling,’ I said. ‘But that’s life. Things change. And change is exciting. Nothing stays the same. Life would be pretty boring if it did.’ And now I’m sounding crass, I thought. Making light of it. But what was the alternative?

  Her eyes filled. ‘But we buried that dead baby chick in the garden last summer. I promised it that I’d always be around to look after the flower I planted on top.’ Tears navigated her hollow cheeks as the news sank in.

  ‘I’m sorry, darling, but there’s no way around this.’ I reached forward to hug her, but April backed off.

  ‘Come on,’ I said gently. ‘Let’s go downstairs. Daddy is waiting.’

  ‘Kim Kardashian has a step-daddy. Then he became a woman.’ April bit her top lip. ‘Will my dad become Skye’s step-daddy too? Is that something else, new, that is going to happen too?’

  ‘All I know, sweetie, is that he loves you very, very much.’

  ‘But do you still love each other just a tiny bit?’ she persisted.

  My stomach scrunched as I wished this wasn’t so important to her, yet I understood why it was. She’d grown up with Disney princess fairy-tale endings and what was happening to her parents didn’t fit the rules. Truth was … yes, I still loved him. The proof? My insides felt shredded to pieces. Raw and bloody. Irrevocably wounded. I’d hardly slept since f
inding out about his betrayal.

  Each night I’d lie awake, staring at the ceiling, studying chinks of light crossing it from a gap in the curtains. I missed his smell. His touch. Our lovemaking. The closeness. The bed felt so cold and empty. I’d hug my knees, in the foetal position, and wish they were his arms holding me tight.

  My eyes felt wet. Zak said he didn’t feel close to me any more because we didn’t ‘talk’. And Zak was right. We didn’t chat much but deep conversations had never been our thing. Our relationship had always been driven by sex, not stimulating discussions. And lately any talk had been about the practical stuff – work, April … He didn’t read novels like me and I didn’t understand the ins and outs of profit margins. If only we’d shared more common interests. Had it always been inevitable that, at some point, our relationship would crumble?

  I straightened up, sick of the constant if onlys and questions that had filled my head since I found out about Chanelle. Some days the earth felt like a spinning top and I longed for someone to stop it for a second, so that I could climb off before my head exploded.

  ‘I love him as your daddy. We just won’t live together any more.’ I forced my mouth upwards. ‘Some parents don’t see much of each other anyway. Doesn’t Ben’s dad work abroad for a few months every year? Yet his family is happy.’

  April thought for a moment. Fiddled with her ponytail. ‘I’m scared now it’s happening. We should stay here.’

  I’m scared too, I wanted to shout. ‘The cottage will be great. Now, run down to the kitchen and say goodbye to Dot. Remember, she won’t be working here from next week.’

  As April’s slow footsteps disappeared downstairs, I covered my eyes with my hands and braced myself, refusing to let tears flow. Except a solitary one broke free and trickled down my cheek. With a sniff I finally parted my fingers and took one last look around the room.