“He’s going to sort the music,” Kat continued, “and he also says he can get his hands on some discounted wine for us.”
“That’s terrific.”
“There’s just one thing . . .”
“Oh?”
“He’s asked me for your number. Said he wants to talk it all through with you,” Kat said.
Charlie’s heart thudded in her chest. She hadn’t invented it. The connection she’d felt had been real.
“What do you think?” Kat asked, a smile in her voice. “Shall I pass it on?”
25
Tuesday, September 23
Dinner at mine tomorrow night? Kat had texted Séraphine and Charlie. Bring a dish, your party-planning skills and a readiness to drink wine x
It had been a while since Kat had had visitors, and it showed. Leo’s toys were scattered around the living room, and in her bedroom clothes were strewn on every available surface. She put on music and began tidying things into their proper places, throwing away what she could as she went. There was an hour to go until the women arrived, and as they’d all agreed to bring a dish, it wouldn’t take her long to get her part of dinner ready. As she tidied, dusted and cleaned, she looked forward to the evening ahead. Being with Séraphine and Charlie was easy and relaxed; it was as if she’d known them far longer than a fortnight. It was good to have friends round again; that had been one of the first habits she’d let go when Leo arrived.
She answered her ringing phone with one hand, still tidying with the other.
“Hi, Jake,” she said.
“Hey. Is now a good time?”
She glanced at the clock. “It’s not ideal. Is it about Leo?”
“Yes, sort of,” he said.
“OK, sure.” She laid down the pile of clothes she was carrying. “What’s going on?”
“It’s about Leo . . .” He hesitated. “But actually more about us. About you and me.”
Kat furrowed her brow. “Us?”
“Yes,” Jake said. “Us.”
“Right,” she said, waiting for him to elucidate.
“I meant what I said the other day, you know. I miss how we were together. I miss you.”
Kat’s heart sank. They’d been through all of this.
“Who’s to say we couldn’t be a proper family again?” he said.
“Jake, we’ve tried,” she said calmly. “You know that. We’ve tried and we’ve tried.”
“Have we though, really?”
“Yes, we have,” Kat said. She remembered every moment of it—the date nights with their long, awkward silences, the family days out where they made the effort to be cheerful for Leo’s sake. By the end it had all fell stilted, forced.
“I mean, I know you tried—but I don’t think I ever put my heart into it. It was as if I was numb.”
“Right.” She took a deep breath.
“Things change, don’t they?” he said, his intonation rising in hope. “Look, I’ll admit it—I wasn’t ready for the responsibility that came with having a baby, not then. But I am now.”
“The time for that’s passed,” Kat said firmly.
“I feel completely differently now,” Jake insisted. “Isn’t that worth talking about?”
Kat glanced up at Leo’s painting on the fridge, remembered painting it with him, how proud she’d been, how they’d both ended up covered in glue and glitter. She might not get it right all the time, but they had a lot of fun together. Her home was a safe haven for the two of them. There had been something missing for a while, but now there wasn’t. As the two of them had grown closer, and other friends and relatives had come into their lives, that gap had disappeared. She and Leo were coping. More than that—these days, they were getting on just fine.
“Sorry, Jake, I don’t want to go back.”
“Is that how you see it? Don’t you think it could be going forward?” The hope in his voice was tinged with desperation.
“We can both be there for Leo. But I’m sorry, Jake, there’s no us anymore.”
Kat was relieved when Charlie and Séraphine arrived, bringing distraction and fresh energy. Talking with Jake had revived memories of the two of them at their worst, and even though she’d tried to end the conversation on a positive note, she could tell that the rejection had felt like a fresh blow to him.
“Hey,” Charlie said, coming inside and glancing around Kat’s living room. “Nice place.”
“It’s a lovely flat,” Séraphine added. “Cozy.”
“Thanks,” Kat said, glad that the rush job she’d done on tidying had made a difference. “We’re fond of it. It never normally looks this tidy actually, but with Leo away I thought I’d have a go at stemming the tide of chaos.”
“It’s got tons of character,” Charlie said. “I love this table,” she added, running her hand over the wood.
“Thanks,” Kat replied. “I got lucky with this one; a pub was closing and getting rid of all the furniture. I painted it with chalk paint, then rubbed away at it. Those chairs in the corner are from the same place.”
Kat remembered the day, a month after Jake had finally moved out, when she’d resolved to make the flat her own, and decorate it exactly how she wanted.
“Quite the upcycler,” Charlie said, impressed.
“Keeps me out of trouble.” Kat grinned. “But enough small talk,” she said, leaning in toward Charlie. “Spill. Did Euan call you?” she asked eagerly.
“Euan?” Séraphine echoed.
“Yes,” Kat explained to Séraphine. “He’s totally into Charlie. Made up the flimsiest of excuses to ask me for her number. It was very cute.”
She turned back to Charlie. “So did he?”
“He might have,” Charlie said, blushing.
“And how was it? What did he say?” Séraphine asked.
“It was nice talking with him,” Charlie said. “We barely talked about the party at all, though. He got straight to the point.”
“And . . . ?” Kat said.
“We’re going on a date,” Charlie said, unable to contain her excitement. “Tomorrow.”
“Great!” Kat and Séraphine said at once.
“You think it’s a good idea?” Charlie said, furrowing her brow. “It all seems a bit crazy, as if I’m planning a holiday romance or something. I’m meant to be here helping Pippa.”
“You are helping Pippa. But why shouldn’t you have some fun at the same time?” Kat said. “You’re only here for a while.”
“That’s true, I suppose,” said Charlie.
“Live a little,” Kat said. “I’ll give the disclaimer, though—Euan’s lovely, but from what I know, he’s not particularly serious about relationships.”
“Fine,” Charlie said. “That suits me perfectly.”
This is the way to eat dinner,” Charlie said as they settled down at Kat’s table, “everyone doing a little bit. It’s so much easier, isn’t it?” She heaped her plate with the butternut squash salad Kat had made, and the pasta bake that Séraphine had brought.
“I do this with friends back home,” Séraphine said. “I love finding out what people’s special dishes are.”
Kat turned a page in her spiral-bound notebook as they ate. She tried to focus on the list she’d made for the party at the Seafront, even though thoughts of her conversation with Jake were still nagging at her.
“So, the centenary party. Now, as you know, it’s all a secret from Letty. I’ve spoken to a few people and got them on board. Euan has volunteered to sort the music and booze.”
“I’ll do the invites,” Séraphine said.
“Great—I’ll give you the names and addresses,” Kat said, writing a reminder. The steady process of listing and ticking was helping to restore a sense of order where just a couple of hours ago it had felt as if there was none. “Some of Letty’s friends have already vol
unteered to bring cakes and savories.”
“More cake and muffins over here,” Charlie said, putting her hand up. “Plus anything that needs arranging on the night.”
“So . . . what else?” Kat looked down the list. “Decorations—I’ll do that.” She made a note.
“That leaves Project Get Letty Out,” Charlie said.
“What’s that?” Séraphine said.
“We need to be able to set up without her realizing what’s going on,” Charlie explained, “which means someone needs to whisk her away.”
“I’ll speak to her friend Sue,” Kat said. “She’s excited about the party, and I think she’d be more than willing to lie if it was for a good cause.”
“We’re getting there, aren’t we?” Charlie said.
“She’s going to love it,” Séraphine said.
At midnight, the three women moved into the living room, Charlie carrying their second bottle of wine, now half-empty.
“Are you OK, Kat?” Séraphine asked, as they sat down. “You seem a little distracted.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just had a weird phone call before you arrived.”
“Jake?” Charlie guessed.
“It’s always Jake. Even now, when we’re supposed to be living separate lives. Out of the blue, he asked me if I wanted to get back together.”
“And do you?” Séraphine asked.
“No. Not at all. I’ve gone through it all in my head, more than once. There are no more what-ifs. I told him it wasn’t going to happen.”
“How did he take it?” Charlie asked.
“OK. It’s hard to tell on the phone. I suppose with Leo up there he’s been doing a lot of thinking. I always got the impression when we broke up that he wasn’t fully taking everything in—maybe he’s having a delayed reaction.”
“They never know what they’ve got till it’s gone,” Charlie said.
“Exactly,” Kat said. “I guess it’s a necessary stage you have to go through. He’s just taken longer to get there than I did.”
“But it can’t be easy having all that stirred up again,” Charlie said.
“That’s it.” Kat took a sip of wine. “I feel that Leo and I are the team now, and I want to concentrate on getting on with that. Life with Jake was always so complicated.”
“It’s good that you know what you want,” Séraphine said.
“That certainly helps,” Kat said.
“What about you, Séraphine?” Charlie said gently. “I don’t think we’ve asked—are you seeing anyone?”
Séraphine’s cheeks flushed instantly.
“Ha!” Charlie said, smiling. “You’re a dark horse. Tell us everything.”
Séraphine shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
“You don’t have to,” Kat said. “Just because Charlie’s being nosy.” She threw a playful look in Charlie’s direction.
“I prefer to call it curious, not nosy,” Charlie said huffily. “And I’ll have you know it’s a professional requirement. So I’m guessing from your reaction that there is someone?”
“Kind of,” Séraphine said.
“Ah, it’s complicated,” said Kat.
“Very complicated.”
“We’ve all been there,” Charlie said.
“Not here, you haven’t,” Séraphine told her. “Or I very much doubt it anyway.”
“Try us,” Charlie said.
“No.” Séraphine shook her head.
“We won’t bite,” Kat chimed in.
Séraphine looked at them for a moment, as if she was trying to work out if she could trust them. She breathed out, seeming to relax, and spoke again.
“You have to promise not to judge me.”
“Of course we won’t,” Charlie said. “Go on, then. You’ve got us on the edge of our seats.”
“Right . . .” Séraphine bit her lip. “Oh God, I can’t. It’s . . . I don’t know. I hardly know you two. I probably shouldn’t say. I don’t want you to think differently of me.”
“Would it help if we confessed something to you first?” Charlie offered.
“Maybe,” Séraphine said, her embarrassment coming out in a laugh.
“OK, go on then . . .” Charlie said, nudging Kat. “You first, Kat.”
“Me first? How’s that?” She mock-glared at Charlie. “Oh fine, right . . . So, is your confession worse than spending a night in jail?”
“You didn’t,” Séraphine said, her jaw dropping.
“I did so.”
“What for?” Charlie asked.
“Drunk and disorderly. It was fresher’s week and I was a Jägerbomb casualty. They had an ice fountain at the fresher’s ball and someone persuaded me to open my mouth at the bottom of it. Seemed a good idea at the time.”
“Oh God,” Charlie said.
“Apparently I was singing the theme tune from The Bill all the way to the station in the back of the police car,” Kat said, laughing. “I covered myself in glory that night.”
“And you look as if butter wouldn’t melt.” Charlie laughed.
“So, what about you?” Kat dared her. “I bet you can do better.”
Charlie looked up, searching the recesses of her mind, weighing one story against another.
“I snogged a teacher once.”
“No,” Séraphine said, her jaw dropping. “How old were you?”
“I was a sixth former.” A cheeky smile crept onto Charlie’s face. “Mr. Fletcher. He was only in his mid-twenties. Not one of those ancient teachers. Not that it makes it that much better, in retrospect. But he was cute. Poor guy, he was terrified.”
“Of being found out?”
“No, of me in general, I think. I sort of pounced on him.”
Séraphine laughed. “I can picture it.”
“I was quite fearless about relationships in those days. Don’t know what happened. Well, I do. Ben, my ex, happened. I used to be more carefree, trusting. I can’t imagine being that way again.”
“I bet that side of you is still there, just under the surface,” Kat said. “The right person will bring it out again.”
“I don’t know,” Charlie said. “I’ve built some pretty hefty barriers. I find it quite hard to let them down these days.”
She paused, her gaze turning to Séraphine. “But I’m distracting attention from the matter at hand. Last call. Who else for the confession box?”
“All right,” Séraphine said, raising her hand. “Seeing as you two have shown willing. But you can’t tell anyone. Seriously.”
“Scout’s honor,” Charlie said, putting her hand on her chest. “I mean, Brownie’s honor.”
Séraphine raised an eyebrow, confused.
“She means we promise,” Kat chipped in.
“I am seeing someone. More than that, I think I’m in love. But no one back home knows anything about it.”
“You haven’t told anyone?” Charlie said.
Séraphine shook her head.
“Why not?” Kat asked.
“It’s a . . . She’s a woman,” Séraphine said, the words rushing out.
“A woman?” Kat said.
“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” Séraphine said, her cheeks flushing anew. She looked down at the floor. “It was stupid.”
“No,” Kat said kindly, touching Séraphine’s arm. “So that’s it? That’s your confession?”
“Yes,” Séraphine said, looking back at them again. “I’m in love with a woman.”
“What’s her name?” Kat asked softly.
“Carla.”
“And what’s she like?” Charlie asked.
Séraphine hesitated, gaging their reactions before continuing.
“Beautiful. Inside and out. Funny too. When she walks into the room it’s as if the par
ty’s started.”
“She sounds lovely,” Charlie said. “Lucky you.”
“Yes,” Kat added, giving Séraphine a nudge. “Now get on with being happy, for goodness’ sake. Don’t waste any more time feeling bad about it.”
“You don’t think differently of me, now that you know?” Séraphine asked.
Charlie and Kat shook their heads. “Of course not,” Kat said.
Slowly, Séraphine started to smile.
26
Wednesday, September 24
Charlie heard the knock at the door and dashed to answer it before Pippa could get there. As far as her sister knew, she was going out to see Kat—she couldn’t deal with any questions. It was challenging enough shutting off the voices in her own head. As she’d got ready that evening, putting on a red top with black skinny jeans, she’d felt a buzz of excitement about seeing Euan again. Her mind ran with possibilities.
And then the doubts would come—she hadn’t dated anyone since Ben. Was she even ready?
“Hello,” Euan said. He was standing on the doorstep in a shirt and a leather jacket, a smile on his face. “That was quick.”
“I don’t mess about,” she said, her pulse quickening at the sight of him. He looked even more gorgeous than she’d remembered. “Shall we head out?”
“Sure. I’m just over the road. Although I’m wondering now how I can compete with that. Is that your sister’s car?” He pointed at her MG.
“Nope, it’s mine,” she said.
“Nice,” he said, nodding. “I’m a little embarrassed about introducing you to my ancient Fiat right now.”
“Not that I care about riding in a Fiat, but do you fancy driving mine?”
“Are you serious?” His eyes lit up.
“Sure, why not?
“That would be amazing.”
“Here you go,” Charlie said, passing him the keys. “She could do with a run around.”
Euan got in and turned the key in the ignition. “I could ruin our date right now, couldn’t I?”
“You won’t. I trust you,” Charlie said.
He drove them through South Cliff and down to the seafront, deftly steering around the curves. Charlie put some music on.
The Seafront Tearoom Page 15