The New Beginnings Coffee Club

by Samantha Tonge

  With a wry smile, I raised an eyebrow.

  Martini smiled. ‘Well, okay – it was just a little bit watery but Noah soon sorted that out.’

  I shook my head at the plate so she shook it at me. With a rueful sigh I took a biscuit.

  ‘Now eat. Ginger is restorative and can help ease any problem – especially alongside a generous dose of dark chocolate.’

  I bit into the shortbread and it crumbled in my mouth, zingy ginger dancing across my tongue.

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ I muttered.

  Martini brushed a grey curl out of her face. She looked her age but the whites of her eyes were so clear, despite the village in-joke that she drank nothing but her namesake.

  ‘Experience. Three children and eight grandchildren. Plus years of dealing with sulky pets.’ She smiled. ‘My youngest got expelled for disrupting classes and smoking.’

  ‘Really? Oliver He’s an accountant in London, isn’t he?’ Martini and I had shared a few conversations over the last couple of weeks – me talking about April, the weather, or news; her talking about her family and latest knitting project.

  Martini put down her cup. ‘I know. Hard to believe, isn’t it? He was such a scamp at junior school. Always bunking off to go fishing in Laventon River. Then he got in with a bad crowd at secondary school. Hardly spoke to me for a couple of years – or so it seemed.’

  ‘How did you cope?’

  ‘I have no idea, looking back.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I only shouted when it really mattered. Gave him hugs when he’d let me. Fed him. Cleaned his clothes. Encouraged him at school. Kept going with the basics. However negative he was, I tried to stay positive and keep the lines of communication open.’

  I sipped my drink. ‘I wish Zak’s mum was still here. You remind me of her.’

  ‘I take that as a huge compliment. Celia was a lovely lady.’

  I nodded. It was just over twelve months since she’d died – shortly after April’s ninth birthday. She’d lived in a generously sized bungalow just outside of Laventon. We’d asked her to move in with us but she hadn’t wanted to interfere in our lives – her words not ours. A woman couldn’t have asked for a more considerate mother-in-law. She continued to use her fashion expertise to help Zak with the business side of things but had always championed me for being a full-time mum; said it was one of the hardest jobs in the world and not one she could have done.

  ‘So, tell me about these sulky pets,’ I said to Martini, the hot, comforting tea doing its job – and me keen to escape my whirring thoughts for a moment.

  Cue hilarious stories of the rabbit that fell in love with her late husband’s leg and the dog that would sit facing into the corner of the lounge if grandchildren visited and Martini dared give them more attention than him. Then she gave the kitchen one last wipe down, before instructing me on how long to cook the steak and kidney pie

  ‘Thanks. I look forward to eating it. It was good of you to make extra for me and April. I must talk to Noah about contributing to the kitty you use to buy ingredients.’ I smiled. ‘He and Elle talk of you with such affection – clearly you’ve been a godsend.’

  Her cheeks pinked up. ‘They are such a busy pair. It’s my pleasure to help out and the money comes in handy. Retirement is over-egged.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I like to keep active. So does Mr Martini. Then we’ve got lots to say to each other at the end of the day.’ She shrugged. ‘It keeps the relationship fresh.’

  After she’d gone, I sat in the kitchen and nursed another cup of tea as Beyoncé songs played up above, in the loft. Had me being home all day meant that I’d not had enough news to share with Zak? Indignant thoughts jumped into my mind – me telling him about our daughter’s day should have been enough. And trips out, socialising – our chat had also revolved around that. And yet … my throat felt all thick at the idea that me just being me hadn’t been enough for Zak.

  Unlike in the early days. Annoyed with myself for still relishing the pleasurable memory, I recalled one Sunday when Celia had asked if she could have toddler April for the day. A friend from her bridge club had recently been widowed and was going over for lunch, with her young granddaughter as well. How Zak had planned that day with military precision. Said that all he wanted was me, good food, and a bottle of champagne.

  He’d booked a swanky hotel and had a top-notch lunch hamper delivered, containing smoked salmon, cream cheese, strawberries, and Moët & Chandon, plus incredible heart-shaped chocolates actually covered with gold leaf. When we entered the room, Marvin Gaye played in the background. Black rose petals were sprinkled over the bed. A musk-fragrance candle burned – a smell, he knew, that drove me crazy. Before making love, we didn’t even stop to open the champagne.

  I refocused on the small kitchen. A bunch of colourful flowers from the garden faced me, instead of black rose petals. Inhaling deeply, I stood up, ready to tackle April. I glanced at my watch. Already a quarter to six? Elle came in, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

  ‘Noah will be back any minute.’

  I didn’t even know he’d gone out. ‘Ah. The surprise?’

  Elle grinned. ‘I shut up shop early at half past five. He’s just got to drop Mrs Carlton home.’

  Ah yes. The quiet conversation he’d had with her this morning. What had that all been about? I heard the front door shut from the hallway. Noah appeared, from out of the lounge, a little out of breath.

  ‘All done?’ said Elle.

  ‘Yep.’ A wide grin on his face, he strode into the kitchen. Footsteps sounded down the stairs from the loft. April appeared, her hands twisting together.

  ‘Sorry,’ she muttered and met his gaze. ‘I guess Noah’s an okay name.’ She looked at Elle. ‘And your singing’s better than Daddy’s.’

  Elle smiled. ‘But still out of tune, right? Perhaps you can help me improve. You’ve got a karaoke machine, no?’

  April shrugged and let me hug her. ‘Good girl,’ I whispered in her ear.

  ‘And I don’t hate you really,’ she said and shuffled from foot to foot.

  My chest feeling lighter, I gave her another hug. ‘It’s okay,’ I whispered back. ‘We all say things we don’t mean when we’re upset.’

  April extricated herself from my embrace. ‘It’s almost six o’clock.’

  Noah, Elle, and I grinned at each other. Even in her darkest hour, April clearly couldn’t curb her curiosity. Noah took off his light jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and told us to follow him back into the lounge. There, in the middle of room, sat a cardboard carrier with holes. April skipped forward as we all heard a feisty little meow.

  ‘A cat?’ I said.

  ‘Not quite.’ Elle grinned.

  We all knelt down and carefully Noah opened the top, dipped one hand in, and brought out …

  Oh my word.

  The cutest kitten you have ever seen. Its legs pedalled furiously in the air. It was white with the smallest patch of ginger fur under its chin.

  ‘Of course! Mrs Carlton has been looking for a rescue cat,’ I said.

  ‘She found two kittens – a brother and a sister,’ said Elle. ‘Mrs Carlton’s taken the other one, a ginger tom. She didn’t like the thought of his sister staying in the rescue centre all alone and asked around.’

  Noah put the kitten on his lap and stroked its ears. ‘I’ve discussed getting a kitten with Elle for quite a while.’ He looked up. ‘Now that The Coffee Club has established itself, it seemed like the right time to put down more roots. And …’ he looked at April ‘… we couldn’t have got a pet without extra help here. It wouldn’t be fair not to give it lots of attention whilst it’s small. Martini is around during the day but if we could share the responsibility that would help. So we thought …’ He glanced at me briefly. ‘April – it could be your job to feed her every morning and play with her after school.’

  He placed the frisky creature in her lap and she giggled as it nippe
d her wrist. The first genuine laugh I’d heard from her for a few days.

  ‘April? What do you think?’ I said, chest glowing as I stared at the scrap of fur. She wasn’t pedigree. Didn’t wear a fancy collar. Hadn’t been groomed to within an inch of her life. But those big eyes would hold anyone’s attention and her indignant meow hinted at bags of character no money could buy. ‘This is a big responsibility. You have your guinea pigs to manage as well. Breakfast is very important for a growing kitten, as is play to make sure it learns how to defend itself.’

  ‘What?’ said April, still entranced by the tiny paws and blue, blue eyes. Then she glared at me. ‘Of course I’ll do my bit. I love animals.’

  I looked at Elle and Noah and they nodded.

  ‘So what shall we call her?’ asked Noah.

  April tickled the kitten’s neck and pointed to the patch of ginger fur. ‘That reminds me, Mummy, of when I was little and you used to hold buttercups under my chin to see if I liked butter.’ She grinned at us all. ‘How about Buttercup?’

  ‘Well really Noah or Elle ought to choose, I mean –’

  ‘It’s a great name,’ said Noah.

  I stared at him, once again overwhelmed by his generosity. Why was he making so much effort to help us build a new life? It was more than I could have expected from a best friend.

  ‘It does suit her,’ I said to Noah a while later, when Elle and April took Buttercup into the kitchen for her first meal. We both sat on the sofa, which was a lot squishier than the shiny leather one at The Willows. Noah yawned and put his hands behind his head. Not for the first time, I admired those firm, capable arms. It had been an emotional day and out of nowhere I wished that he would wrap them around me and give me a big hug.

  He caught my eye and tears sprung unexpectedly. ‘Sorry,’ I blurted out. ‘It’s just, the ups and downs, April so stressed and sad a minute ago yet now giggling in the kitchen.’ Lord. He must have thought it was my time of the month. Every day, at the moment, seemed to make me feel as if I was going through the worst PMT. Except there were no chocolate cravings. Only cravings for the life I’d led.

  ‘It’s okay. It’ll be okay, Jenny. You’re doing great,’ he said, gently. I swallowed as his hands came down from behind his neck. Noah put his fingers on my shoulders and stared me straight in the eyes. ‘You can do this. You’ve got through today. Tomorrow won’t be quite as bad. The day after will further improve. Just take it one day at a time. The hardest part of any change is making the decision and sticking to it. You’ve done that. ‘

  A lump formed in my throat. ‘Have I? I’ve agreed to a four-week trial of the new school. What if April doesn’t like it and goes back to Oakwood as a boarder?’

  ‘Just deal with the present. One day at a time. This situation has been thrown at you and I think you’ve coped brilliantly so far.’

  I gazed down at my lap, aware of the heat coming from his hands. ‘Some might say I’ve brought this situation on myself.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Zak. He said I wasn’t the woman he married any more.’

  He lifted my chin with one hand. I never thought tawny eyes could fire up but Noah’s did, as if the devil himself stood behind them with a match.

  ‘Of course you aren’t the same person. You adapted to your new life and role. And now you are adapting again. And believe me, you haven’t brought anything on yourself, unlike some people,’ he said in a resigned tone. I waited for an explanation but none came.

  ‘You’ve been so great, Noah. And Elle. I don’t understand – you hardly knew us a couple of weeks ago.’

  A muscle flinched in his cheek. ‘Everyone deserves a stab at making a fresh start, that’s all. I … I know what it’s like to start over from ground zero.’

  I eyed him curiously, but his lips were set in a firm line.

  ‘Well, you and Elle have been great. Thanks again,’ I said and sat straighter.

  ‘All part of the service.’ He shot me one of his boyish smiles. ‘Elle’s a great listener, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Must be nice to have had a … good friend like Elle around. How did you two meet?’

  ‘We used to work together.’

  ‘In the catering industry?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. Finance. It’s a long story.’ His mouth upturned. ‘And a very boring one. I don’t know how I stuck it out so long, working all day on profit projections, investment forecasts, and interest rates. Making the perfect cappuccino is far more rewarding.’

  ‘So neither of you were happy with your careers and felt like a change?’ I couldn’t resist some gentle prodding.

  ‘Something like that,’ he said and shrugged. ‘All I know, Jenny, is that even when things are at their worst, there is always hope, and often help comes from the most unexpected source.’

  With a sob, I turned away. His honey-toned voice … the understanding … it seeped through my defensive armour and was just too much.

  ‘Come here,’ he murmured and pulled me close to his chest.

  I was right. Those arms were strong and fully encompassed me in his embrace. My heart pounded as I breathed in his masculine scent. I couldn’t move but it felt good and really, really secure. And then Elle walked in and I pulled away. Urgh. What if she and Noah were an item and for some reason just really discreet? I hope she didn’t think that … well, you know, rebounds. Aarghh. No. I was being ridiculous. Or was I?

  ‘Elle,’ I said brightly and sniffed. ‘How’s Buttercup doing?’

  The new addition to our household was doing fine and it was a challenge getting April into bed.

  ‘Cute, isn’t she?’ I said as April snuggled up under the covers. Without the distraction of the kitten, she’d become quieter as she’d got ready for bed. I couldn’t even revive her chat by offering to watch her favourite DVD with her the following night – Rainbow Mountain, the latest tween supernatural romance.

  ‘Elle said she can come up here, once she’s toilet trained. We set up the litter tray in the kitchen but she still made a little puddle on the floor.’

  ‘Pity kittens can’t wear nappies,’ I said but that comment didn’t raise a smile.

  ‘I texted Daddy. He promised to come by one day this week, to meet her.’

  ‘Great,’ I said in what I hoped was an upbeat tone.

  April’s voice wavered. ‘Please let me stay at home tomorrow, Mummy. I can look after Buttercup. Noah said she needed lots of attention and Martini will be busy.’ Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  ‘No, sweetie.’

  Her face scrunched up and she turned her head away. I bit my thumbnail, hating to see her like this.

  ‘Everything I want is back at The Willows. Life will never be that good again.’

  ‘Of course it will!’ I rubbed her back.

  She turned and sat up. ‘No it won’t. This house is tiny. I haven’t even got my own room.’ April covered her face with her hands. ‘Make it go away, Mummy. You and Daddy breaking up. Turn back time, can’t you? I don’t like how it is now.’

  Every atom of my insides ached. If only that were possible. I also missed the reassuring presence of Dot and the freedom of living in my own house. I didn’t like the emptiness of my purse, of my bed, of my heart.

  ‘I wish I could take all the pain away.’ I squeezed my eyes tight. I’d do anything, anything, to make her hurt subside. That was my job. Mums protected their infants, right? So why was her hurt so raw? What was I doing wrong?

  ‘I’ll prove to you that we don’t need a big house or fancy possessions for just as great a life.’ Well, I had managed okay before becoming part of the Masters family, and loved growing up in a two-up, two-down. Perhaps it wasn’t a matter of turning back time to our life in The Willows – maybe I needed to travel right back to my childhood for some clues as to how to be happy without luxury.

  I spotted a notebook and pen on the floor and picked them up. My mind raced. Zak had suggested April having a
month’s trial period at her new school, so… ‘I know what we’ll do. Make four wishes for things you would like to do or come true. For the next four weeks, at the end of each week, if you try really, really hard to be strong and make the most of each day, then I will grant your wish on the Friday evening, before you go to Daddy’s on the Saturday.’

  April sniffed. ‘What … anything?’

  I passed her the notebook.

  ‘Can I do it now?’

  ‘Go on then – but don’t take too long, it’s late.’ I stood up. ‘I’ll read on my bed. You’ve got fifteen minutes.’

  I stretched out on the owl duvet cover and opened a thriller from one of Noah’s shelves. I’d finished The Alchemist that he’d lent me after just a couple of days … the story of the shepherd’s boy who follows his dreams, but worries that his heart will suffer in the process. Zak was following his dreams and creating a new life with the woman he loved. Where did that leave me and April? Would our new life journey turn out for the best, or was that impossible?

  Tiring again of the continual questions that had plagued my mind in recent weeks, I glanced across at April as she wrote carefully.

  ‘Ready,’ she announced, before the fifteen minutes were up.

  I put my book to one side, got up, and sat on her bed. I took the notebook and scanned the list. I looked back at April who grinned madly and threw her arms around my neck.

  ‘Thanks, Mummy. And I promise to try really hard at school tomorrow.’

  ‘Good girl,’ I said. That was something at least. Yet unease shifted inside me as I reread the list. How on earth was I going to fulfil these wishes? What had I been thinking? As if life at the moment wasn’t challenging enough!

  Dear Mum, please can I:

  One – be a zookeeper for the day.

  Two – have a celebrity makeover.

  Three – climb Rainbow Mountain to search for treasure.

  Four – have Granny back. I miss her to bits.

  Chapter Nine