by Kate Hewitt
“I know.” Her breath hitched and she quite suddenly lurched up from the table. “I should get home. Maggie will have finished art club and I like to be there when she gets back.”
“Okay.” He was, as ever, unruffled by her sudden need to bolt. Laura fumbled for her wallet.
“Let me get the coffees…”
“No, I will.” His tone was uncharacteristically firm. “Then we can consider this our first date.” He glanced up at her, eyes sparkling. “Then we’ll have already got that out of the way.
*
“I’m so pleased to see you!”
Chantal wrapped Maggie and then Sam in big bear hugs, which Laura was thankful her children submitted to more or less graciously. Sam even put his arms around his godmother. Not that Chantal would have been bothered either way; her hugs were of the bulldozing variety.
She glanced up from Sam to smile at Laura. “And I want to hear everything that’s going on in that little chocolate-box village of yours. Everything,” she repeated meaningfully.
Laura hadn’t yet told her friend about the loaded conversation she’d had with James at Tea on the Lea. Four days on and she was still fizzing from it. She’d thought about texting Chantal more than once, but it felt like too much information to download via a few acronyms and emojis. She wanted a face-to-face conversation, preferably over a bottle of wine.
“I’m sure we’ll be happy to tell you everything,” she said lightly. She glanced at Maggie, who had perked up at the prospect of a trip to London to see Chantal and hit the markets stalls in Camden Town. They’d been planning to visit last weekend, but with Maggie’s suspension Laura had decided to postpone it until they were on a more even keel, which she hoped they were now, although she wasn’t entirely sure.
Maggie didn’t seem so angry anymore, but she was still worryingly quiet, a closed book to Laura, her pages firmly shut, although sometimes she lightened, offering Laura a smile like a benediction.
But Laura wasn’t going to worry about all that now; she wanted to live in the moment, to enjoy each one as it came, even if it took effort. This weekend they were in London and she intended to enjoy it.
Chantal had made an enormous lentil curry for lunch, which was delicious if somewhat outside of Sam’s comfort zone, but he gave it a valiant effort until Chantal, militant vegan that she pretended to be, broke down and made him a bacon sandwich.
“You spoil him,” Laura told her with a laugh, and Chantal shrugged.
“I’m his godmother. I’m allowed to.”
After lunch, despite the freezing temperatures, they went for a walk along the lock and then through Camden Market, where Maggie happily browsed funky stalls and asked Laura if she could have a belly button piercing—even Chantal looked askance at that one.
“When you’re eighteen you can do what you want,” Laura reminded her. “No body piercings until then.” But she said it with a smile, and Maggie’s momentary huff was just that, nothing more. Laura breathed a bit easier.
“So,” Chantal said as she dropped back to walk alongside Laura, Sam browsing through a comic book stall and Maggie sorting through a tray of junk jewellery. “What’s the latest on Mr Hottie?”
Laura couldn’t keep a smile from curving her lips as her heart beat harder just at the thought of James. “Not now,” she murmured, nodding towards her children, who had ears like bats, at least when it suited them.
“So it must be something really interesting, then,” Chantal said with bright-eyed satisfaction and Laura grinned.
“Maybe.”
“Oh, Laura!” Chantal crowed, grinning herself.
Maggie turned back to them suspiciously. “What is it?”
“Just teasing your mum,” Chantal told her. “Just really pleased she’s settled into life in Wychwood so well.”
Maggie eyed them both slowly, still suspicious, and Laura felt herself tense. She wasn’t remotely ready to talk about the prospect of dating someone with her children yet. She hadn’t even talked about it with James since their coffee at Tea at the Lea, and to his credit he hadn’t pressed the matter any further. Their relationship at school had fallen back into comfortable lines, but all the while the possibility of a date had sparked inside Laura.
“We’re talking later,” Chantal promised under her breath, and Laura nodded her agreement.
Later wasn’t until that evening, after they’d had fish and chips for tea from a local shop, and Maggie and Sam were curled up on Chantal’s huge leather sofa watching Netflix.
“Right,” Chantal said briskly, eyeing her two godchildren rather beadily. “Your mum and I are going to have a proper catch-up at the pub across the street. And you two are going to be good as gold, aren’t you?” She cocked a thumb at Maggie. “Nothing dodgy on your phone, my girl. I was fourteen once, even if they didn’t have smartphones way back then.”
A smile tugged at Maggie’s lips and she rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“And don’t go cross-eyed, staring at your iPad,” Chantal instructed Sam. “Watch a film instead. Much better for you.” Sam rolled his eyes just as Maggie had, and Chantal cackled with laughter. “Right. We’re off.”
The pub across the street was as far from The Three Pennies as was possible—instead of squashy armchairs and an open fire, there was techno music, high bar stools, and crushed velvet sofas in a violent shade of purple.
“I’m going all girly and having a cosmopolitan,” Chantal announced. “What about you?”
“I’ll have the same,” Laura said. She felt reckless in an exciting way, liberated, brimming with possibility. It was both wonderful and fairly terrifying, and entirely new.
Chantal fetched their drinks while Laura bagged a sofa, and soon they were settled, sipping their luridly coloured cocktails. Chantal wasted no time getting to the heart of the matter.
“So, spill. Something’s happened. What is it?”
“Nothing’s happened,” Laura assured her. “Honestly, it’s probably nothing.” She felt a sudden need to backtrack, but Chantal wasn’t having it.
“You wouldn’t be looking like the canary who ate the cat, or the cat who ate the cream, or whoever ate what, if nothing had happened. What?” She raised her eyebrows, expectant, impatient.
“Well, James sort of asked me out.”
“Sort of?”
Quickly Laura explained their conversation while Chantal listened, rapt. “I like this guy, Laura,” she said at the end. “I really like him.”
“I think I do too,” Laura whispered, and then, to her surprise and mortification, her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she exclaimed, annoyed at herself as she swatted at her eyes. “It must be the alcohol.”
“You’ve barely had a sip.” Chantal pulled her into a one-arm hug, both of them managing to hold their cocktails aloft as they embraced. “I know why you’re crying. Because this is big. You’re moving on, Laura, and that can feel hard but it’s okay. It’s good.”
“But I’m not really moving on,” Laura protested with a sniff. “We haven’t even gone out on a date yet. He hasn’t even asked me yet. Not really.”
“That’s just semantics. He will ask you, and you will go out. And it is just a date. Not a wedding ring. Not even a commitment. A date.”
“Right.” Laura gave her friend a shaky smile. “Right,” she said again, and gulped her cocktail.
“I gather you haven’t mentioned any of this to your lovely children?” Chantal asked with a cocked eyebrow.
“Absolutely not,” Laura said with a shudder. “I have no idea what they’d think about it. I’m not sure I want to know. And I’m afraid Maggie will get all angry again. I’m not sure I’d blame her.”
“They have to know at some point,” Chantal pointed out gently.
“Yes, when something is actually happening. I mean, why freak them out? We might go on a date and it’s awkward and awful and weird, and that’s that.” Laura took another gulp of her cosmopolitan. “That’s probabl
y what will happen, to be honest.”
“I don’t think so,” Chantal returned. “But the important thing is to find out. Go on that date. Start living again.”
“I have been living,” Laura protested, but her voice sounded weak. She knew she hadn’t been, not really, and the baby steps she’d been taking since moving to Wychwood had felt hard but good. Yet this wasn’t a baby step. This was big. And also terrifying, thrilling, wonderful and utterly alarming all at once.
Could she do it? Was she ready? What if Maggie and Sam weren’t ready for her to date? And then there was a whole host of other complications…like the fact James was nine years younger than her. That he wanted a family, children of his own that Laura probably couldn’t provide. That there was guilt and grief and fear she knew she still hadn’t dealt with. And, if she wanted to project down the line, she had a middle-aged body with saggy boobs and stretch marks and James was just a little over thirty. Thirty.
“Laur,” Chantal said gently. “Stop.”
Laura looked up from her moody contemplation of her drink with surprise. “What?”
“Stop overthinking. I can hear your brain whirring away from here. Just go with it, Laura. Live in the moment, including this one.” She hefted her glass high and clinked it with Laura’s. “Here’s to you snagging the hottest man in the Cotswolds.”
“I haven’t—”
“Drink up,” Chantal cut across her, and she did just that.
Chapter Thirteen
Coming back to Wychwood after a weekend with Chantal could not help but feel, Laura acknowledged, like a little bit of a let-down. Maggie and Sam were quiet in the car as they pulled into a darkened Willoughby Close on Sunday night; the sharp, freezing cold had given way to something dank and damp that made spring feel even further off.
Unlocking the front door, Laura told them to bring in the bags while she fetched Perry from Lindy’s, who had kindly offered to take him for the weekend.
“How was it?” Lindy asked as soon as she’d opened the door, Perry making a mad dash for Laura, or at least as much of a mad dash as a ten-year-old retriever could make. It was more of a hurried amble. “Did you have a lovely time?”
“Yes, really lovely.” As Laura had left, Chantal had given her a tight hug and whispered in her ear, “Go for it, girl. I love you.”
“Perry was wonderful as always, but I think he was pining a bit,” Lindy said, laughing as she saw the dog thrust his head between Laura’s knees, desperate for affection. “And I made you these.” She proffered a plastic container of delicious-looking fudgy brownies. “I made some for Jace, because Ava had her baby last night!” Her voice rang out with excitement.
“Oh, wow—”
“A little girl, Zoe. They’re coming home tomorrow and I for one can’t wait to have a cuddle. If you like, we could stop by together?”
“If Ava’s up for it…” Laura began, slightly taken aback because she didn’t actually know Ava all that well, although snuggling with a newborn baby sounded lovely.
“She says she is. I’m sure there will be a parade of people through the house, but I’ll let you know when she tells me a good time.”
Back at number three, Laura saw that Maggie and Sam had indeed brought in their bags, leaving them in a jumble by the front door, and had disappeared up to their bedrooms. With a sigh she began to sort through the post before starting on the washing, surprised and pleased to see a card from Alice inviting them all to dinner at Willoughby Manor next week.
She’d been slightly dreading a return to a community that didn’t know them very well, but she was heartened by all these positive signs—Lindy, Ava, now Alice. And of course James.
Never mind the niggling sense of disappointment that he hadn’t texted, even though she’d told him she was going to London for the weekend. What had she been expecting? A note pushed under her door, saying how much he’d missed her? Flowers?
Shaking her head at her own absurdity, Laura stooped down to unzip Sam’s bag and take out a weekend’s worth of dirty laundry that had been crammed into it.
She’d put the wash on and boiled the kettle to make a cup of tea for Maggie—forever trying to build bridges—when her phone pinged promisingly. How was the weekend away?
Laura couldn’t keep the silly grin from spreading over her face as she read James’s text and then quickly replied. Great. How was yours?
Quite nice, actually. Went to Cheltenham to see my sister’s new baby, Hannah. She is very small.
Laura let out a soft snort of laughter at that. Babies do tend to be small, she texted back. I’m going to get a cuddle myself when I see Ava’s baby this week.
Good stuff. Followed by several relevant baby-themed emojis. Laura was still smiling as she considered her reply when a voice, sharp with suspicion, interrupted her thoughts.
“Who are you texting?”
Laura looked up to see Maggie scowling at the bottom of the stairs. “What?” she said, mainly to stall for time.
“I could hear the ping of your phone from upstairs.” This said like an accusation. “Who are you texting so much?”
“Chantal.” The lie fell easily from her lips, even as Laura wished she had just told the truth. But then Maggie might have freaked out, because really, what reason could she possibly have for texting James Hill and talking about babies, of all things? A confusing tumult of feeling roiled in her stomach and she put her phone on the charger before reaching for a couple of mugs.
“Cup of tea?” she asked as lightly as she could.
Maggie hunched one shoulder. “Okay.”
Laura regarded her daughter quietly as she made the tea. Although Maggie hadn’t seemed as angry lately, she still, Laura realised, didn’t seem very happy. She only wished she knew how to breach her daughter’s bristling defences. From everything she’d read in books and online, she simply needed to be patient and keep trying. She handed Maggie a cup of tea, milky and sweet the way she liked it.
“How’s your homework?”
“I’ve got a little.”
“How are things at school?” Laura tried to sound as casual as she could. “With friends, I mean.” Shrug. “You know the guy who gave you that alcohol,” she said quietly, needing to say it even though Maggie would resist. “He wasn’t really a friend, Mags. To ask you to keep it for him—”
“Oh, Mum, can you please not sound like some stupid counsellor for two seconds?” Maggie snapped and with a huff she whirled around and went upstairs. Laura sighed and slumped against the counter, just as her phone pinged again.
She glanced at it wearily, the excitement she’d felt earlier draining away. It was from James. I can walk Sam home from Minecraft Club tomorrow again if you like.
Was he angling for another dinner invitation, or just being nice? Both? Laura felt too weary now to wonder or reply. How could she be flirting by text with a man so much younger than her, when her daughter was clearly hurting, and life still felt so complicated? When her husband had only been gone for a little over a year?
It felt wrong, even though she loved the little flutters of excitement James caused her, and how they made her feel alive again, as if she were finally waking up from a long sleep. Then she remembered Maggie’s sharp voice, asking who she was texting, and she feared her daughter would have even more of a meltdown if she knew Laura was thinking of dating again.
She put the phone back on charge without replying and headed upstairs.
*
The damp, dank weather continued into the week, and Monday morning Laura walked to school with Sam under a heavy grey sky, her mood feeling low despite all the hopeful signs of yesterday—Ava, Lindy, Alice. And yes, James. Somehow she was going to have to tell him she wasn’t ready to go out on a date. That she didn’t think her children were ready.
“I’m going to whip round to Waitrose after school and then I’ll pick you up from Minecraft Club,” Laura told Sam as they headed into the schoolyard. “So if I’m a few minutes late, don’t worry.
”
Sam’s face fell. “Can’t Mr Hill walk me home?”
“That was a one-off, Sam.” Even if he’d asked again.
“He said he didn’t mind.” Sam gave her a sideways look, half pleading, half defiant. “I like talking to him. He’s cool, for a teacher.”
Laura hesitated, knowing Sam needed a man in his life; the only one right now was his grandfather, who preferred watching the footy to playing a board game, and probably didn’t even know what Minecraft was.
“Okay,” she relented. “If he offered.”
“And can he stay for dinner again?”
“Sam.” Laura looked at him, exasperated. She was being railroaded into a set of events she actually wanted, which made it difficult to say no and mean it.
“What?” Sam looked at her innocently.
“Mr Hill probably has plans.”
“I’ll ask him—”
“Let me talk to him first,” she said quickly. She didn’t need her son to act as a go-between for this. Although on second thought, perhaps she did. She still didn’t know what she was going to say, or how to make it not feel awkward.
Fortunately, James remained as relaxed as ever when Laura broached the subject during their usual lunchtime chat.
“Sam is keen on you walking home,” she stated, her tone one of apology.
James smiled, eyebrows raised. “Great.”
“And he’d like you to come to dinner again,” she continued in a rush. “But please, please don’t feel obligated. He’s not a great one for boundaries or social cues—”
“I don’t know any eleven-year-old boy who is,” James interjected, his smile widening.
“I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“I don’t.” His blue-green gaze scanned her face. “But do you?”
Laura let out a gusty sigh that had James raising his eyebrows again, waiting. “Not pressured, no. But I’m…concerned. Maggie is still in a very uncertain place, and I’m not sure how she’d take to…to anything changing.”