by Jenny Kane
‘Jack?’ Amy had been concentrating so intently on thinking about Rob, that for a second, the mention of Jack threw her.
Now Rob really was worried. How on earth could Amy have forgotten about Jack, even for a split-second? He made a snap decision. ‘Stay right there. I need to make another call.’
Amy couldn’t hear who he was talking to this time, but he was soon back, easing the untouched cup out of her hands, pulling her to her feet, and guiding her out of the shop. Amy felt detached from her surroundings, as if everything was happening through a cotton wool of fog.
Rob bundled her into a taxi, and before she knew what was happening Amy was sitting on a comfy sofa, with a real fire warming her, a beautifully bedecked Christmas tree in front of her, and Debbie asking if she’d like a drink before dinner.
It was the last straw. Amy dissolved into floods of tears. It didn’t matter that three pyjama-clad little girls were goggling at her, stunned at seeing an adult cry. It didn’t matter that Debbie and Rob saw her in that state. And it was just as well she didn’t care, because there was nothing she could do about it. The tears kept coming and coming, as if thirteen years’ worth of grief, loss, and self-imposed loneliness was being purged out of her.
Amy was vaguely aware of Debbie placing a box of tissues next to her, and of Rob herding the girls out of the room and up the stairs, but still she couldn’t stop. Her body heaved, racked with each new sob. She blew her nose over and over again, until it was red and raw, and a pile of soggy white paper had amassed on the thick beige carpet.
Conscious of a muttered conversation a little while later, Amy looked up to see Rob’s head peering around the door. At some point she must have stopped crying, she wasn’t sure when. Her face felt taut and dry, the lines of her tears were etched upon her cheeks.
Amy ached with release, and felt as if she could sleep the sleep of the dead. Rob came in, put his arm around her, and reading her needs perfectly, said ‘You’re staying here tonight.’ He put up his hand as Amy opened her mouth to protest. ‘Debbie has already made up the spare bed, and the girls are very excited at the prospect of you taking them to school tomorrow.’
‘Cunning. There’s no way I could disappoint them.’ Amy sniffed into another tissue.
‘Exactly. That’s why I told them you’d be here in the morning.’
Amy turned to face him. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ve behaved very badly. Especially to you and Debbie.’
Rob shook his head, ‘Not for the first time, Amy, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘I …’
‘No.’ Again Rob stopped her before she hit full flow. ‘You’re too tired. Come on.’ He manoeuvred Amy to her feet and showed her to the bedroom. To the side of a large double bed was a table laid out with a tray holding thick hot tomato soup and toast. It was all Amy could do not to burst into tears again.
‘One of Debbie’s nightshirts is on the bed. There’s some moisturiser to smooth over the tear stains, and a spare toothbrush is on the side in the bathroom. Eat up. Go to sleep. That’s an order.’
Amy opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it. Rob had already disappeared through the bedroom door.
Crunching through the toast, Amy remembered how Jack had cooked the same meal the first day that they had kept Pickwicks going for Peggy and Scott. Out of the blue it hit Amy, as she looked around the room, that she’d never seen Jack’s bedroom, never even been invited to his home in Mortlake. Trying to reject the notion that he might be ashamed of her, Amy suddenly remembered she hadn’t told Rob why she’d gone to see him at the shop in the first place, and that she hadn’t mentioned arranging to see Paul at all.
It was the girls that woke her. Amy could hear them laughing and calling to each other as they ran between their cramped shared bedroom and the bathroom in the race to get ready for school. Groaning, Amy yanked the duvet over her head as the evening before flashed in front of her eyes. Filled with embarrassment, she wondered what on earth Rob and Debbie must think of her. All she wanted to do was run away and hide. Could she sneak out?
Amy sat bolt upright, the duvet dropping from her chest. Run away and hide. The thought shot through her. She’d done that before, and where had that got her. Not this time. Not again. So what if she was embarrassed? What was pride anyway? She winced as an image of Jack on one of their last solo coffee breaks before she’d met Toby flashed into her head. He had quoted Duran Duran’s ‘Ordinary World’ at her, something about getting over your pride? She couldn’t remember why now. Oh yes. It was something about when he came out to his friends. Well, now it was time she came out; out of her protective shell. The time for personal pride had long gone, especially where Jack Brown was concerned. She’d stood up for herself over being let down in favour of clubbing with his mates; she could do it again.
Hurriedly dressing, Amy was determined not to let Rob’s children down. They had been promised her company on the way to school, and that is exactly what they were going to get.
‘Hello.’ In spite of her private determination, Amy felt awkward as she entered the chaos of the kitchen.
‘Amy!’ Flora, the eldest child, ran over and hugged her around the waist. ‘Have you come to play Lego now? You said you would? Mummy says Father Christmas will bring me some more if I’m good.’
A promise made months ago to a child, and she had forgotten. Guilt stabbed at Amy all over again. ‘Not now, love. It’s school today. Maybe Mummy will let me come soon?’
Amy looked up at Debbie. She nodded in reply. ‘Tonight? You could come to supper. A proper supper this time.’
Amy straightened up. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course.’
‘You’re so kind. You’re all so kind.’ Amy turned back to Flora, marvelling at how, despite being only two years younger, how different she was from Kit’s frighteningly mature children. ‘Tonight for Lego then, OK?’
‘Yes!’ Flora punched her fist in the air and ran off to her breakfast.
Debbie looked proudly at her eldest child before holding out two packets of cereal towards Amy. ‘Cornflakes or Malties? I’m afraid breakfast is a rather child-orientated affair in this house.’
‘Cornflakes would be perfect, thank you.’ Amy sat down meekly next to Flora and smiled as Rose and Lily trailed in shyly, hand in hand, peering up at her cautiously from under puffballs of uncombed hair.
As they waved to the three bouncing girls disappearing through the doors of their primary school, Amy turned to Rob and Debbie, ‘I want to thank you.’
‘What are friends for?’ Rob shrugged.
‘That’s exactly what I wanted to say. To tell you. It’s why I came to the shop last night in the first place.’ Amy looked from Rob to Debbie, ‘I’ve been a crap friend for years. I had so many good intentions when I came here from Aberdeen, but then Jack took over. I let him take over, just like I did before. I wanted to say sorry. I was pathetic. I shouldn’t have let that happen again.’
Rob looked at his wife for reassurance, before saying, ‘Sweetheart, he’s a good man, Jack, for the most part at least, but he’s a crap boyfriend. You know it, I know it. Even if he was as straight as a Roman road he’d be a crap boyfriend for you.’
‘I know.’
‘But’, Rob continued as he put an arm around Amy’s shoulders, ‘he is a good friend, and it was important for you to see that for yourself. It was bound to take time.’
‘I know; and it was time I needed.’ Amy replied.
‘You’ve had that now though, I think.’
‘Yes,’ Amy exhaled a rush of air from her throat, as though a heavy burden had been lifted away, ‘yes, I have. Tonight I’ll bring a takeaway. No way are you cooking for me. Chinese?’
‘Now that,’ said Debbie, ‘is the kind of friend I like.’
JANUARY
In which a New Year has dawned, Jack makes travel plans, Phil has a proposition, Amy has to make a decision, and we meet Paul …
Forty-seven
Kit frowned with a sense of foreboding – and déjà vu. Jack had sounded so serious when he’d called her to see if she was up for their usual coffee stop. What was it he wanted to discuss so urgently? She remembered all too clearly what had happened last time Jack had told her he really needed to see her.
Kit felt curiously put out when she reached the department store and found that Jack was not alone. He and Toby were sat as close together as the hard chairs would allow. They weren’t seated in her and Jack’s usual place either; but then, that was only big enough for two. Now there were three of them ...
‘Hi boys,’ Kit treated Toby to her best smile. ‘How’s tricks, Toby?’
‘Just great, thanks to this guy here.’
Oh my God! They’re in love! Amy had told her they were, but Kit had dismissed the idea as too un-Jack. It hadn’t occurred to her that it might be true. But why not? Jack had been different about Toby from the start. There was no reason why she should be shocked. Kit twinkled wickedly at Toby, ‘You obviously don’t know him very well yet.’
‘Don’t you tease me, Kit Lambert, or I shall spill all your innermost secrets.’ Jack smirked back at her across his steaming cup.
‘You mean you haven’t already?!’ Kit sat down with her drink, ‘So, what’s happening? You sounded very serious when you called.’
The two men glanced at each other. Toby gave Jack a ‘go-for-it’ look.
‘Well, the thing is. I’ve decided to do some travelling for a while.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’ve got a business, I’ve got a house, but even though I’ve got the money I’ve never done anything else, never been anywhere. Dad and Jane are always sending me postcards from amazing places. I’d quite like to see some of them. Find out what all the fuss is about.’
‘And?’ Kit began to digest the fact that she was going to lose her coffee partner again after she’d only just got him back.
‘How did you know there was an “and”?’
‘Because I …’
‘Know me very well. Yes, well …’ Jack fiddled with his spoon, ‘it’s time for someone else to get to know me really well.’ Kit felt stung by his words, her cheeks infused with heat as she listened. ‘I’ve asked Toby to come with me,’ he grasped Toby’s hand beneath the table, ‘I want to take him to meet Dad and Jane. It’s time I came clean about my life.’
The gravity of it hit Kit like a sledgehammer. She struggled for proper words, rather than the gurgling noise that was coming out of her mouth. This wasn’t simply love, this was borderline serious commitment. Now Kit felt fully justified in being shocked.
Dropping Toby’s hand for a moment, Jack asked, ‘Kit? You all right?’
She rallied, ‘Yes of course,’ Kit turned from one boy to the other. They looked young, pink, eager and earnest. ‘I’m surprised I guess. It’s fab news, Jack, come here.’ Kit engulfed him in a massive hug, and whispered into his ear, ‘I’m so pleased for you honey, I really am.’
He pushed her back a few steps and held her hands tightly, searching her face, ‘You mean it?’
‘I only ever wanted you to be happy.’
‘I know you did, and I am. Really I am.’ The sheer luck and thrill of his new situation clearly hadn’t sunk in yet, as he turned to Toby, who reached a hand back to his lover, and covered it proprietarily.
‘When do you leave?’ Kit sat back down; gratified to find that her pleasure for Jack was genuine, and no longer simply a mask.
‘Next month, I hope. There’s a lot to arrange yet.’
‘And where will you be going?’
‘We haven’t decided totally, but Spain will be the first port of call. Dad and Jane have rented villa in Tarragona.’
Kit enquired, ‘How does Rob feel about it?’
‘He’s fine.’ Jack referred to his partner so that he could take a bite of cake.
‘No. He was great.’ Toby sounded concerned though, ‘you are sure he’ll manage though aren’t you Jack?’
Jack spoke through his mouthful, ‘Sure. He can take on a student or something if things get too much.’
Kit picked up her coffee thoughtfully. Jack certainly didn’t have to worry about the financial implications if the shop went belly up. Rob on the other hand, couldn’t afford to be so relaxed about his livelihood. Her mind briefly flicked to Phil’s plans for Home Hunters, but Kit kept her thoughts to herself; instead opting for the safer ground of listening to the guys plans for their forthcoming adventures, and satisfying her desire for a lot more caffeine.
She had been listening for the front door ever since she’d got in from collecting the twins from school. As soon as Phil walked through it, Kit pounced.
‘You’ll never guess what?’
Amy sat up in bed. Her bedside clock said it was only six in the morning, but she was already fully dressed. Clutching her duvet up over her legs and under her chin for warmth and comfort, Amy re-read her bank statement for the third time. She was sure she could literally feel her money slipping through her fingers.
She tried to reassure herself by tracing a finger over the amount in her savings account left from the money she’d earned while working in Scotland. It was a fair bit really. Anywhere in the Midlands, say, or back in Scotland, and it would have been enough to secure a deposit on a small house, but not London, especially not with her rent biting a large chunk out every month. Christmas presents hadn’t helped, nor had the train fare to her parents for the holiday season. It was time to live a more frugal life. Though it wasn’t as if, Amy mused sadly as she sank against her pillows, she was particularly extravagant in the first place.
Forty-eight
January 5th 2007
Rob was kneeling on the floor, the entire contents of the ‘Local Flora’ bookshelf at his feet, when the shop bell rang. He turned and, only marginally disappointed that the new arrival wasn’t a customer, smiled. ‘Hello, I wasn’t expecting you today. Everything all right?’
‘I’ve had an idea. You got time to talk?’
Glad of the excuse to stop cleaning, Rob stood up and dropped his duster. ‘Sure, I’ll put the kettle on.’ He busied himself in the small kitchen, calling back through to the shop, ‘Christmas good then?’
‘Great, thanks,’ Phil sat on a stool behind the counter, as if trying it for size and comfort. ‘The twins had a great time, way too many toys of course. Not to mention not having enough space to find homes for them all. You?’
‘The same.’ Rob carried two mugs of tea through to the shop. ‘So, an idea?’
‘You know about Jack going away for a while, I assume.’
‘Yes,’ Rob ruffled a hand through his recently acquired spiky haircut, ‘bit of a surprise, but as he’s all happied-up for once, who am I to stand in his way? Anyway, it’s more his shop than mine, he can do what the hell he likes.’
Phil stood back up and leant against the counter, ‘Will you manage here alone?’
‘For now. Jack’s rarely in these days anyway. It’ll depend how long he’s gone for.’ Rob started to unwrap a box of books a courier had left on the counter. ‘Come March, the tourists will start arriving, that’s when I’ll need some help.’
Phil put his mug down and quietly surveyed the shop. ‘I could help.’
Rob nearly choked on his tea. ‘You?’
‘Not so mad, is it?’ Phil asked.
‘No, but … well, you’re a captain of industry, this is just a bookshop.’
‘Not just a bookshop surely,’ Phil lifted up the top book from the pile in front of Rob, and weighed it in his hands. ‘You and Jack have a niche market here; I wonder if you exploit that enough.’
‘Are you saying,’ Rob battled to speak calmly, despite rapidly becoming excited by Phil’s suggestion, ‘that you could help us in that direction?’
Phil drained his tea, ‘How about I nip out and get a couple of sandwiches. You stick all those flower books back on the shelf, and we’ll talk?’
&nbs
p; ‘You’re on! Tuna and mayo for me please. On white.’
It had been so busy in Pickwicks that Kit hadn’t managed to talk to Amy that morning. She watched her friend move around the café, performing her job with her usual neat efficiency. That was the key word though, “performing”. Whenever she thought no one was looking, the mask came down. Kit was worried by how fragile Amy seemed, how drawn around the eyes she was. Then, like an actress returning to her role on stage, Amy would plaster on her smile and deliver coffee, cake and sandwiches as if it gave her the most joy in the world.
‘She’s learnt that trick from you.’ Kit called to Peggy as she paused on a return journey from clearing a table.
Popping the tray laden with dirty cups onto Kit’s table, Peggy asked, ‘What’s that?’
‘Amy, she’s got your “customer first” face down pat. But have you seen her when she lets her guard down?’
‘I thought she seemed a bit tired.’ Peggy picked her tray back up, ‘she said she didn’t sleep too well. Money worries, I guess.’
Peggy disappeared into the kitchen, not looking too great herself. Kit toyed with the idea of helping out, but Peggy had already told her, in a voice that would brook no argument, that she’d ask if she wanted help.
Money worries. That may well be part of Amy’s problem. Kit wished that Phil would hurry up and decide what he was going to do about work. She was sure however, that Jack was as big a factor in Amy’s ashen face as her finances were. She’d heard all about Amy’s pre-Christmas stay at Rob’s, and her new determination to get on with her life, but Kit had a sneaky feeling she might not be finding it as easy as all that.
Kit studied the pages of her notebook. She needed to develop a way of linking the next part of her novel with the chapters she’d already drafted, without it appearing disjointed. Today her brain didn’t seem up to the challenge. Putting her pen down, Kit picked up her mug. The dregs of coffee that languished at the bottom smelled cold and stale. Her throat recoiled from the idea of drinking them, and Kit picked up her mobile instead.