The Single Mums' Picnic Club

by Jennifer Joyce

  She was ready after teaming the dress with a pair of thick black tights and a pair of ballet flats and, as she appraised herself in the mirror, she actually felt quite good about herself. The Katie standing in front of the mirror wouldn’t have batted an eyelid about signing that bloody form. She’d have posted it too. Her confidence, however, plummeted as soon as she heard the knock on the door. Was this it? Her first Date with someone other than Rob? And did she want it to be? She liked Jack, certainly, and he was handsome in a rugged sort of way, but did she see him in a romantic way? Could she imagine herself kissing him?

  She squeezed her eyes shut and pictured the two of them standing face to face, their lips almost touching. Any second now she would feel the scrape of stubble…

  Gah! Her eyes flew open and she shook her head. No, no, no. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kiss Jack. She didn’t want to Date him.

  But what if he wanted to Date her?

  ‘Wow, you look nice,’ Jack said as she creaked the door open, which was exactly the look she was going for. But what look had Jack chosen? Datey or not Datey? He was wearing jeans, that much Katie could see beneath his coat (it was still hammering it down and only a smidgen above Arctic temperature), and they weren’t his usual tired-looking work jeans, but what did that mean? Casual, going-for-a-drink-with-a-mate jeans or these-jeans-make-my-arse-look-irresistible-for-my-date jeans?

  ‘Jack?’ She swallowed hard. She didn’t want to ask this, but she couldn’t leave the house without knowing. ‘This drink… is it… like, you know, a… um…’ Jack was frowning at her. ‘Is it a date?’

  Jack’s eyes widened. He, too, swallowed hard. ‘Well, um, I don’t know… I, um…’

  ‘Because I’d really rather it wasn’t.’

  Jack laughed, his head bobbing up and down. ‘Thank Christ for that. No offence, Katie, I think you’re great and everything, but Anita only kicked me out of the house six months ago and I’ve barely had time to get my head together. The kids, the house, work…’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t handle anything else right now.’

  ‘Good.’ Katie grabbed her coat and handbag from the hook and stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind her. ‘Because my head is mashed right now too. Mates is all I can handle.’

  And she meant that, she really did.

  So why didn’t she wake up alone the next morning? And why did she wish with every cell of her body that she’d de-fluffed in the shower after all?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Katie

  The Red Lion was stuffed with bodies as Katie followed Jack into the pub, the heavy door fighting against the palm of her hand, attempting to close and shut her out before she’d stepped over the threshold. It banged shut behind her as she hopped into the only available space, her body pressed up against Jack’s until he managed to inch further into the room. Clusters of blokes blocked their way to the bar, already swaying tipsily as they clutched their pints, shouting out to each other to be heard above the din of the sports channel blaring from the massive wall-mounted TV as it battled against the jukebox playing Catatonia’s ‘Mulder and Scully’. It had been years since Katie had heard the song and it took her straight back to her youth, to a time when everything made sense because she knew exactly where she was headed in life, even as her peers floundered and worried about The Future. She was only eighteen, but she was so self-assured. She was going to marry Rob, have his babies and live happily ever after. Twenty years on and she wanted to slap the smugness away from the deluded kid she once was.

  ‘Nearly there.’ They’d been edging their way through the throng, but Jack turned to her now, calling over the racket. ‘I can practically smell the stale beer in the drip trays.’ He grinned at Katie and took her hand, swerving to the right to avoid a particularly dense group of suited men – ties missing, shirtsleeves rolled up – as they let their hair down after a week stuck in the office. They were shouting even louder than the other clusters, and were obviously ribbing one poor colleague as all but one threw back their heads to roar with laughter every ten seconds or so while he shook his head and chuckled good-naturedly.

  Jack’s hand felt solid as it wrapped around hers, and she realised with a jolt just how much she’d missed human contact over the past eighteen months. Yes, she’d hugged her kids (usually under duress), but this felt different. New yet familiar at the same time. Safe, Reassuring.

  ‘Katie?’

  She blinked up at Jack as he watched her with a slightly bemused look on his face, his eyebrows raised while a smile played at his lips. He exchanged a sideways glance with the barman, who was drumming his fingers on the bar. She hadn’t even clocked that they’d come to a halt, but they’d reached their destination, the holy grail of the bar, long and polished and lined with craft beer taps amongst old favourites.

  ‘What are you having?’ Jack indicated the array of drinks on offer. The barman sighed, holding up a finger as a ten-pound note was wafted at him by a hand poking out of the crowds cluttering the bar area.

  ‘Oh. Um…’ Katie gave a gentle tug of her hand, removing it from Jack’s. ‘A small white wine. Chardonnay, please.’ She was tempted to request a large – very large – glass, but that would be pushing Jack’s generosity.

  The barman pushed himself away from the bar, carrying out their order as quickly as possible before moving onto the tenner-waving customer. With their drinks in hand, Katie and Jack shuffled their way into a quieter corner of the pub where they found a pocket of space near the jukebox. It was loud, and she could feel every beat of the current song reverberating through the soles of her feet but at least they could breathe a little easier.

  ‘That was intense.’ Jack puffed out his cheeks before he took a sip of his pint. He lifted the glass as he swallowed. ‘Worth it though.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Katie had already drained half her glass during their journey from the bar. ‘Thanks for this. It’s been ages since I’ve been out.’ She took a sip of wine, resisting the urge to tip the remainder down her throat in one go. ‘Is it always this manic in here?’

  Jack made a seesaw motion with his hand. ‘It depends. It isn’t so bad during the week, but as soon as Friday teatime hits, you get this pretty much until Sunday evening.’ He indicated the crowded pub. ‘It’s even worse during the summer when the tourists boost the numbers, but at least then you can spill out into the beer garden.’

  Katie couldn’t imagine the summer months, with sunshine and beer gardens and barbecues. It seemed like they’d been engulfed in grey clouds and the chill factor forever; or perhaps that was just Katie’s mood.

  ‘Jack!’ A hand was clapped down on Jack’s shoulder as a burly bloke wearing a slightly too tight rugby shirt almost collided with Katie’s neighbour. ‘Thanks for the work you did on my mam’s bathroom. Bunch of cowboys left it in a right state. She’s made up now though, mate. Let me buy you a pint.’

  Jack held up his drink. ‘I’m good but thanks. And tell your mum I’m glad I could put it right for her.’

  ‘Come and tell her yourself.’ The rugby-shirted guy nodded towards the opposite end of the pub. ‘She’s over there with the missus. I should warn you that she’s been at the gin so she might try to show her gratitude in a more friendly way than a pint.’ He winked at Jack, who Katie could see was starting to blanch despite the low lighting of their cosy corner.

  ‘Maybe later? I’m actually just having a quick drink with my friend.’

  Katie pressed her lips together as she patted Jack on the shoulder that wasn’t still sporting a meaty-looking hand. ‘No, no, it’s okay. You go and meet your adoring fan. I’ll be fine here. In fact, I’m going to choose some decent music.’ She winced at the terrible choice currently blasting out of the jukebox.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Jack widened his eyes at Katie, which she knew was silent code for ‘please get me out of this’.

  ‘Absolutely positive.’ She flashed Jack a radiant smile. He didn’t return the gesture.

  Katie slotte
d a couple of coins into the jukebox and ran her finger slowly down the glass screen, searching for a song that didn’t make her want to stretch her ears until they pinged off her head, silencing the racket that was pounding from the speakers.

  ‘Please tell me you’re choosing something better than this.’ A bloke had been passing as she made her first selection on the keypad, but he stopped and slouched against the side of the jukebox, his eyebrows pulled down low. ‘What is this rubbish? You can’t even tell what they’re singing.’ His eyes widened as he clapped a hand over his mouth. ‘Oh, God. I sound like my dad. That’s it; I’m officially old.’

  Katie snorted and pushed a few more buttons. ‘Hardly. Wait until you’re pushing forty, then you can complain about aging. You’re what…?’ She shifted so she could study him, to make sure her initial assessment of his baby-face features were correct. ‘You’re Ellie’s teacher.’

  She been spot on with the baby-face judgement, with his smooth skin and slightly quiffed dark hair that wouldn’t look out of place in a teen boyband member. The effect was muddied by closely cropped facial hair, but there was no masking the youth of the guy.

  ‘Of course.’ He wagged a finger at Katie. ‘You’re the neighbour I sent out in the rain.’ He scrunched up his nose, which created a few lines on his face but nothing that could really age him. ‘Sorry about that.’

  ‘No worries.’ Katie turned back to the jukebox, her finger back on the glass. She wanted something upbeat and fun that didn’t mark her out as an old fogey. ‘It was the implication that I was a deranged kidnapper that bothered me.’

  She turned to raise her eyebrows in reprimand, but the teacher barked out a laugh, holding up his palms. ‘I never thought that for a second. It’s just the safeguarding we have in place.’

  ‘To protect the kids from deranged kidnappers.’ Katie sighed and turned back to the song selections. ‘I must have that look about me.’

  ‘Nope, not at all. And I really am sorry. In fact, why don’t I buy you a drink, as a proper apology?’

  Katie waved her hand. ‘There’s really no need. I’m only messing around. I wasn’t offended, and I really could have been anyone. It’s fine, really.’ She smiled to show there were no hard feelings, so he could go back to enjoying his night out.

  ‘But I want to.’ His eyes flicked to the glass in her hand. ‘White wine, right?’

  ‘Yes, but…’ She attempted to protest again, but he was already backing away, a hand in the air, palm out.

  ‘Wait there. Back in a minute.’ He turned then and headed for the bar, and Katie was torn. She still had a few credits to use up at the jukebox, but she also knew you shouldn’t leave your drinks unattended in this day and age. She read Cosmo every month and knew accepting a drink from a stranger could have serious repercussions. If she was going to accept the drink (and she was warming to the idea), she should at least be sure it hadn’t been tampered with beforehand.

  ‘I’ll only let you buy me a drink if you let me return the favour.’ She caught up with him as he waited to catch the attention of the lone barman, who was flying around behind the bar like the Tasmanian Devil.

  The teacher twisted to face Katie and leaned against the bar. ‘Sounds good to me.’

  She really should do the same for Jack, once he returned. She glanced around the pub, trying to catch a glimpse of him, but couldn’t spot him in the crowds.

  ‘Sorry this is taking so long,’ the teacher said as the barman flew past them for what felt like the hundredth time. ‘You’d think they’d have more staff on a Friday night.’

  Katie placed the empty glass from her previous drink onto the bar. ‘I’m not keeping you from anyone, am I?’ A wife or girlfriend, perhaps? She didn’t want to give off the wrong impression here.

  ‘Nah, my mates will cope without me for a few minutes. Just about.’ He grinned at Katie and she noticed some faint lines around his eyes. ‘Ah, here we go.’ The barman descended, taking their order before zooming away again. ‘He must be knackered, dealing with this lot.’

  ‘I bet it’s a breeze compared to teaching a class full of kids.’ If Katie had been wearing a hat, she’d have taken it off to him. She couldn’t do the job, that was for sure. ‘That must be a tough gig.’

  He gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘Sometimes, but I love it.’ A glass of wine was placed on the bar, and he handed it to Katie. ‘What do you do? Apart from plot to kidnap children from their classrooms?’ He laughed as Katie poked him in the ribs.

  ‘I’m a bookkeeper.’ She took a sip of wine, enjoying its coolness as she swallowed. It was hot in the pub with numerous bodies packed in so tightly and her throat was starting to feel scratchy with having to talk so loudly to be heard. ‘But I’m sort of between jobs at the moment.’

  She wasn’t quite sure why she’d divulged that last part. Here he was, doing a worthy, largely thankless job and she was festering on the bookkeeper scrapheap.

  ‘I’m looking though. All the time. I’m on all the job search sites, every day.’ She was waffling so she filled her mouth with wine in a bid to shut herself up.

  ‘Well, good luck with the search…’ He paid the barman and picked up his pint, turning so he could clink it gently against her glass. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name…’

  ‘It’s Katie.’

  ‘Hello, Katie. I’m…’

  There was a sudden roar behind them, and when Katie whipped her head round, she saw the commotion was coming from the TV. Or rather from the crowd gathered in front of it, craning their necks to watch whatever sport was taking place on the screen.

  ‘Sorry.’ She turned back to her companion. ‘What was that?’

  ‘I said, why don’t we nab that table over there?’ He pointed at a free table by the entrance. Katie had been referring to his name, which she hadn’t managed to catch in the racket, but the thought of sitting down was too appealing. Though she was wearing flats, her feet were already throbbing.

  ‘Good idea.’

  They made a dash for it, in case anybody else had spotted the vacant table, and threw themselves onto the stools. Katie wriggled her toes, almost sighing with relief, before she shifted her seat to ensure she had full view of the main part of the pub. Hopefully she’d spot Jack on his way back to the jukebox area from here.

  ‘Is this one of your song choices?’ He tilted his head to one side, the faint lines appearing at the corners of his eyes as he concentrated on the music that had just started.

  ‘No.’ Katie laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘As if.’

  It was. She’d chosen the song before Mr Baby-Face Teacher had turned up, before she’d felt the need to tiptoe around the fact she’d nudged into her thirties. Quite far.

  ‘I actually like Suede.’

  ‘You do?’ How was that possible when he probably wasn’t even conceived when they were at their height? Oh God, if he said his mum listened to them…

  ‘Yeah.’ He nodded and took a sip of his pint without elaborating. ‘So, what songs did you pick?’

  She racked her brains under the guise of drinking her wine, filtering out the cringiest choices. There was no way she was telling him she’d selected Cher’s ‘The Shoop Shoop Song’.

  Katie threw back her head as she howled with laughter at the story her drinking pal had just told her about his exploits as a trainee teacher. She didn’t know how far back he was going to recall these stories, but she hoped it was further back than she was imagining, because his age, over the course of several glasses of wine, had become very important. Somewhere between him teasing her about her ‘retro’ song choices and the story involving a class’s pet rat (uncaged) and his quivering on top of the teacher’s desk, she had started to fancy him. Like, really fancy him. He was nothing like Rob, who had sandy hair and broad shoulders, but he was extremely cute with twinkly, mischievous eyes and a smile that was making her insides feel all topsy turvy. Of course, that last bit could have been down to sinking so much wine when she wasn’t used to fi
nishing more than a glass or two a couple of times a week under normal circumstances, but there was definitely something about this guy.

  ‘That isn’t my most manly of stories, I’m afraid,’ he said once Katie had stopped clutching her stomach.

  ‘No, but it is very funny.’ She leaned forward, placing a hand on his chest. His chest was solid beneath her palm, unlike Rob’s, which had become soft and slightly squishy over the past few years. Not that soft and squishy was a bad thing, but she could feel her cheeks growing hot as she imagined the body beneath his shirt. He probably worked out, which didn’t usually appeal, but she was suddenly a fan of the benefits of a strict fitness regime.

  ‘Drinks!’ She snatched her hand away and leapt to her feet, almost knocking the table over in the process. ‘We need more drinks. Same again?’ She wafted her hand in the general direction of his pint glass, but she didn’t wait around long enough to receive an answer. After a mini stumble, she concentrated really hard on getting to the bar in one piece. She was digging in her purse to pay for the round of drinks when Jack leaned on the bar beside her.

  ‘You’re still here.’ Jack’s voice rose at the end, so his statement had the air of an enquiry about it. ‘It took me forever to prise myself away from Pete’s mum, so I assumed you’d got fed up and gone home when I couldn’t find you. I sent you a text?’ Again, his voice rose towards the end, and Katie shook her head as she handed the money to the barman. Replacing her purse, she had a rummage in her handbag for her phone.

  ‘Oh.’ She did have a text from Jack, apologising for abandoning her for so long and asking if she was okay. She’d been so preoccupied with the teacher, she hadn’t heard the notification. What if Rob had phoned about an emergency with the kids? It was a sobering thought.

  ‘Sorry.’ She held the phone up and twisted the screen towards Jack. ‘I didn’t hear it. It’s so loud in here.’ She couldn’t meet Jack’s eye as she said the last part, as it wasn’t strictly true. She’d been busy… what? Not flirting. That would be ridiculous and utterly pointless under the circumstances. She’d been chatting. For over an hour. With an extremely handsome, much younger man.