My chest squeezed. April must have felt like that too. Unwittingly, I’d passed my challenges on to her. What a precious gift I’d been given, to no longer have that constant internal narrative wondering if I fitted in – a narrative that I’d done my very best to hide, all these years. It made me feel somehow taller. Stronger. Proud of myself. More honest. I mean, what a waste of a life to spend it lying to everyone – and worst of all, to yourself.
I know. All that sounded nerdy. A bit preachy, even.
But here I was, putting a roof over my daughter’s head. Making new friends. Forging my own way in life. I knew it was early days but I very occasionally had the craziest thought – that I was grateful for how my old life had been shattered to pieces.
‘Watch that pole!’ I shouted twenty minutes later as I stood underneath orange canvas, still mulling over how much my life had changed in recent weeks. My nails had split due to hard graft serving coffee and most days I washed my hair and left it to dry naturally. I felt strangely liberated. ‘This stinks! L’eau de plastic and mould.’ It was an unfamiliar smell for me, after years of using only sparkly new goods, straight out of immaculate plastic covers.
‘It’ll be fine by tomorrow,’ called back his muffled voice from the other side of the tent’s wall. I stood, arms in the air, holding up the main frame, whilst Noah slid in various poles for the inner tent.
‘Right, I’m just going to start pegging everything down,’ he called.
‘How about I start off doing that?’ I called back. ‘My arms are killing me. Let’s swap.’
His face appeared in between the canvas and he walked towards me, a big grin on his face. He tickled my armpit and I yelped.
‘Don’t be mean! I’ll let go; make everything fall down!’
He pretended to go for my arm again and I caught his eye and giggled.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Just let me quickly hammer in a couple of the crucial pegs. I won’t be a second.’
Five minutes later. ‘Noah. I’m dying here. Hurry up! I can easily do your job.’
‘Sorry, I forgot.’
I heard hurried footsteps and he appeared in between curtains of canvas. But he tripped, fell into me, and I toppled backwards. Noah fell forwards, landing just by the side of me, his arm flung across me, his head only centimetres from mine.
‘Are you all right?’ he said and propped himself up, chest heaving, tawny eyes full of concern. ‘One of my shoelaces was undone. Come on, get up and stretch. Sorry. I should have taken over earlier.’
But I didn’t want to get up. It was as if I was back in that dream. And us laughing – me in my shorts, outdoors under canvas – I felt like a carefree girl and not the woman who’d spent the last ten years convincing herself she fitted in with the sophisticated set.
‘What’s the matter?’ he said. ‘Can’t you move?’
I stared at that lopsided lip that begged me to kiss it straight. I reached forwards and tentatively touched his ruffled hair. His pupils widened as I ran my fingers through the waves and gently pulled his face towards mine. My lips touched just below his nose and I kissed him gently, from left to right, nerve endings across my body sparking as if they’d been numbed and were now springing back to life. As I moved down our mouths met fully and he responded with an impossibly tender touch.
It unnerved me and for a second tears threatened. I don’t know why. But then his kisses became more rhythmic and harder. My heart raced and pleasure spots burst across my body. It was as if I was drinking the headiest champagne money could buy – champagne that could knock me sideways. Totally intoxicating.
Noah pulled away, as if to check I was okay, but then he leaned forwards again and I felt helpless with desire as his mouth urgently met mine and he teased my lips apart. My heart raced – due partly to fear. Was this the right thing to do? It had been so long since I’d kissed another man. I felt so confused. Would I end up getting hurt? Would I somehow upset Noah? Was I doing it right? Had I become a lazy, predictable kisser?
Yet all those big and small worries dissolved as we melted into each other and his warm, soft wetness felt like a drug to a diehard addict. Through my mind ran snippets of our conversations about books, the shared jokes. This kiss seemed like the seal of two soul mates. I let go and stared at him for a second.
We both sat up, my back sore from the fall.
‘I’m sorry,’ I managed eventually and blushed. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’ Soul mates? Until recently I’d assumed I already had one of them.
‘You all right about this?’ Noah shook his head. ‘You’re in a vulnerable, emotional position. Perhaps I shouldn’t have …’
‘I kissed you first, if I remember,’ I said and touched my mouth. Was he regretting it already?
He took my hand. ‘You sure you’re okay?’
I nodded. Zak had gone off me. What if Noah didn’t really find me attractive either? What if no other man ever wanted to get close? I might end up alone. Yet would that be so bad? These were questions I hardly dared voice to myself, let alone out loud.
‘And I’m very flattered,’ he said. ‘But you’ve only just split from Zak. Are you certain that –’
‘But it was nice, wasn’t it?’ I bit my lip. Rejection, at this point, would just about finish me off.
Noah squeezed my hand and that lopsided top lip twitched. ‘I dunno about that – it was passable, I suppose.’
My shoulders relaxed and I pulled my hand away and gently slapped his arm. Praise indeed from Noah, and for some reason I had a childish urge to skip around the garden.
He smiled. ‘Look. Jenny. You … I’ve become fond of … We’re friends, right? I don’t want anything to ruin that, so if you’re not ready, I’m here to support you through your difficult time and I don’t want to become part of the problem. I haven’t got to know many people well since I moved here and your friendship means …’ His voice cracked a little. ‘It means one hell of a lot.’
Blood rushed into my cheeks. A solid friendship? I could do with that at the moment. ‘You’re right.’ Chanelle’s face flashed into my mind. ‘True mates are hard to come by. I guess I’m still all over the place.’ My throat felt thick. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you and Elle over the last few weeks. I had wondered if you liked her.’
‘No!’ Noah’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline and he looked like he might laugh. ‘Me and Elle? Never. We are just really great pals – been through a lot together. But romance has never been on the cards.’
‘So this won’t make things awkward?’
‘Let’s just forget it happened, if you want.’
I touched my mouth again. Forget the way he made me feel? Desirable again, like a red-blooded woman, after Zak’s betrayal? That would be hard. But, yes, I had to. So soon after the breakup, I had to keep emotionally stable – for April’s sake, if not my own.
‘Although you’ve got the potential to be a great kisser,’ he continued. ‘We could be talking Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara standards from Gone with the Wind. So, you know, if you ever change your mind and are more certain about things, and need some more practice …’
‘Idiot,’ I mumbled, unable to resist returning his grin. ‘Margaret Mitchell was a great writer.’
‘So good you don’t notice the book’s massive length.’
‘But it’s not to be repeated.’
‘What?’
‘The kiss.’
‘That will be up to you.’ With unreadable eyes he looked at me.
‘Have you read Steph Meyer’s Twilight Saga?’ I asked.
‘Had to,’ he said. ‘Curiosity got the better of me once I saw the success of the films. The writing wasn’t really my style but no doubt about it, she’s a great storyteller.’
‘Jacob and Bella. It was always on the cards that they were a better fit as friends, no?’
‘And that’s us?’ He fiddled with his sports watch.
He stared at me for a moment and cleared his throat. ‘An alien, of course. With two heads!’
I snorted with laughter and immediately tried to disguise it as a cough. That dream last night really had been prophetic. Next time I was about to enter the lottery, I’d have to eat pickled onions before bed.
‘On reflection, the simple truth is,’ he continued, ‘I could never get together with someone who is so unfit.’
‘How dare you!’ I said and attempted to think of a suitable retort when a shriek echoed across the garden. I recognized April’s tones. She must have thought I’d been swallowed whole by some sort of psychotic tent.
‘We’re okay,’ I shouted as we scrambled to our feet, both now smelling of musty canvas.
A shower. A very cold one.
That was what I needed.
Chapter Twelve
I was still thinking about that kiss, as I dropped off April at school. That was, until Tom and his mum came over. She smiled at me. Zak wouldn’t approve of the pyjama bottoms visible underneath the light summer jacket or the takeaway mug of coffee in her hand. April and Tom headed towards Lizzie, already talking about their previous evening’s exploits on Minecraft.
‘Hi. Tom has talked a lot about April. How is she settling in?’ Her smile widened. ‘I’m Susie, by the way.’
‘Jenny.’
‘I know. You’re married to Zachary Masters of Elite Eleganz, aren’t you? I mean …’ Her cheeks pinked up. ‘Sorry. Thinking out loud – a big fault of mine. Hope everything is going all right since … that is …’
I couldn’t help laughing. ‘It’s okay. I knew the village would be curious as to why I’m now living and working at The Coffee Club and the answer must be pretty obvious. Thanks. We’re doing okay.’
I gazed at her with a slight sense of déjà vu. The first thing Chanelle had been most interested in about me had been my husband. However, Susie soon dispelled the worry of any possible aspirations regarding getting to know me.
‘I’d be a big disappointment as a wife to a fashion magnate.’ She looked down at herself. ‘I work night shifts three times a week at a care home, and some days it’s as much as I can do to pull on jogging trousers and a top. Luckily I married a man who thinks wearing his new football shirt is dressing up! Love your new hair, by the way.’ She ran a hand through her mousy bob. ‘I keep meaning to get some blonde streaks put in for the summer.’
‘Life gets busy,’ I said and noted the deep circles under her eyes.
‘Yes. What with Tom, work, looking after my mum …’ She gave a half-smile. ‘Anyway. Enough about my mundane life – would April like to come to tea next week? She’s very sweet, bringing in cake from the shop for Tom.’
April hadn’t mentioned that. How generous of Noah to let her take two without payment.
‘We live near the park,’ Susie continued. ‘Tom wants to go cycling and …’ She rolled her eyes. ‘No doubt they’ll go on the computer.’
‘Oh. Um. Yes. Thanks. That’d be great – although April hasn’t got a bike. Cycling wasn’t something she and her old friends did.’ But perhaps it should have been. Maybe Zak could take her out to get one, tomorrow. I’d search online tonight and see if I could find any cheap second-hand ones up for sale. She had at least completed an obligatory cycling safety course at Oakwood Towers last term. ‘But are you sure? You’ve got such a lot on. I’m sure Noah and Elle wouldn’t mind if Tom came over to us, if that’s easier and –’
‘It’s no problem,’ said Susie. ‘Honestly. And Tom’s been pestering me to speak to you so that he can show her his latest collection of slugs.’ She grimaced. ‘Don’t ask.’
I grinned. ‘What time shall I pick her up?’
‘Six thirty?’
I nodded.
‘Is there anything special she likes to eat?’
‘She’s grown up eating all sorts of foods and likes most things – especially sushi and caviar,’ I said.
‘Oh. Um, we don’t really like Japanese food in my house and –’
I grinned again.
‘Ah. Okay. You’re messing with me.’ She laughed.
‘April actually hates both those things.’
‘Well at ours it’s either spag bol, chilli, or chicken stew.’
I squirmed uncomfortably and realized how little I’d cooked over the years. I confessed as much and lovely Susie promised to bring a few of her recipes in for me, the next day. In fact, it was quite a morning for speaking to the villagers. Mrs Carlton briefly left her corner shop to check on Buttercup. She was getting used to our kitten’s ginger brother and had called him Marmalade.
Then Postie dropped by when he’d finished his round, needing a strong double espresso after a disastrous date last night. He’d come by to drop off some bags of food and old newspapers for the animals his daughter Louise would need this evening. She’d head over straight from work, at half past five, and her little car would be full of the animals in their cages.
‘I thought this woman’s online profile said that she worked in tax. It was actually taxidermy.’ He shuddered. ‘I could never get close to a woman who stuffed dead creatures for a living.’
And talking of creatures, Martini had come up trumps. Thanks to her grandchildren, tonight she’d be bringing over a hamster, a well-behaved dog, and stick insects. Plus one of the customers heard me talking about April’s wish and insisted she bring around her two budgies, who loved company and didn’t mind being in their carrier cage for a few hours.
It gave me a warm glow – people helping me with no agenda of their own. Life was kind of getting hopeful. Things were moving on. In the right direction. Perhaps I would make new friends. Meaningful ones. And earn enough to support April. Maybe she’d grow to love her new school. I even whistled along to the radio as I drove my Mini back to The Willows during my lunch break, to pick up my old sketches.
I’d cleaned the car myself last night. A bemused Noah had shown me how. In the past, a professional valet had always washed my car. Noah taught me how to soap properly and rinse before the suds could dry. I smiled. How clumsy it had been of me to ‘accidentally’ shower him with cold spray.
My spirits sank as I eventually turned into the winding driveway and pulled up in front of the house. There stood Chanelle’s red four-by-four and a builder’s van. My palms felt sweaty as I got out and locked my car. I hadn’t seen her, face to face, since I found out about the affair. Would we have a shouting match? Perhaps Chanelle would apologise. Or tell me to leave. I swallowed, all at once longing for but dreading this overdue confrontation.
I headed over to the front door and let myself in. A radio blasted out and a loud scraping noise accompanied it, coming from the lounge. I looked right and walked over. My jaw dropped. Gone were the cluttered bookshelves, floral sofa, the fringed rug. These had been replaced with ladders. Men stripping wallpaper. Cardboard boxes. Empty mugs. My breathing quickened.
‘Jenny?’
I turned around.
‘I didn’t recognise you with that new haircut.’ Chanelle fiddled with her bracelet. ‘It’s, um … interesting.’
‘What on earth is going on?’ I said as she stared over my shoulder, into the distance.
‘Shouldn’t I ask you that? I wasn’t expecting you.’
The back of my throat burned. What a cheek, her expecting me to justify visiting. My fists curled.
‘I’ve come to collect some stuff from the loft.’ I glanced again at the lounge and then back at Chanelle, my eyebrows rising.
‘We’re redecorating,’ she said, stiffly, and met my gaze.
‘We?’
Chanelle shifted from foot to foot. ‘Look, Jenny, come into the kitchen. I’ve just made coffee.’
Huh? Who was she to invite me anywhere in this house? I hadn’t been gone that
long. Acid backed up my throat and into my mouth. ‘Have you moved in?’
She folded her arms and creased the tight-fitting striped dress. ‘No. I won’t do that until the decor is more to my taste. A decorator friend of mine offered to do it dirt-cheap. I’ve sent a lot of business his way, over the years. Hasn’t Zak told you all this?’
My stomach churned. ‘No. But then there’s a few things he hasn’t told me about these last few months,’ I said, in a tight voice. ‘And I’m surprised Zak can even afford even “dirt-cheap”, considering the state of our finances. Clearly he’s still in denial about selling this place.’
Chanelle bit her perfectly painted top lip. ‘I’m paying – seeing as me and Skye will live here eventually.’ Her cheeks flushed. ‘It makes sense, Jenny. April will still have her room, of course. And a fresh look will make the place easier to sell, if that time comes.’
‘This is April’s home! You can’t just wallpaper over her memories.’
‘You could have stayed here,’ she said quietly and folded her arms tighter.
‘And what do you mean if this place is sold? It has to be. Don’t say you’re in as much denial as Zak.’
Her mouth pinched. ‘I’d much rather Zak had told you this, but, well, I’m selling my place, Jenny. Moving in. Taking on the mortgage until Zak sorts out this mess.’
I gasped. The final insult. Having stolen my husband, Chanelle was now literally stealing the life I’d had. With her money. Which she’d earned thanks to borrowing from our business.
She was helping Zak where he really needed it. All I’d been able to offer was emotional support, nothing practical or financial. Is that why he’d chosen her over me? Like shares in the company, I suddenly felt my value plummet even further. My fists curled tighter as my knees felt like they might buckle.
And breathe …
The New Beginnings Coffee Club Page 14
