The Saturday Supper Club

by Amy Bratley

  ‘Looks beautiful, Dad,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’

  Dad jokingly put his hand on his heart and staggered about the cafe.

  ‘Stop,’ said Elaine, laughing raucously. ‘I’ll have to do CPR.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ he said. ‘I’m too old for heavy lifting. Joe, son, you’ll have to do the rest on your own, or get one of these beautiful girls to give you a hand. That Elaine, she’s as strong as an ox.’

  ‘My American blood,’ she said.

  ‘You know what?’ Dad said, looking round at the stencilled lovebirds on the walls and the old-fashioned glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. ‘This is going to look very good.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, smiling. ‘Are you happy to have your sixtieth party here, too? Daisy thought we should have it here, what with the house up for sale, so if you’re OK with that? I know you don’t like fuss, but you’re only sixty once, aren’t you? I haven’t managed to speak to Daisy for a few days—’

  At the mention of Daisy, everyone in the room tensed slightly. I watched Dad’s eyes sink to the floorboards.

  ‘But I’ll call her later,’ I said hurriedly. ‘After we’ve finished here.’

  Dad tipped his head back and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

  ‘She should really be here helping out,’ he said quietly. ‘But, yes, this will be perfect for my sixtieth gathering. Absolutely perfect.’

  While Maggie set to work on making an amazing set of cake stands, by drilling holes through the centre of different-sized vintage plates she’d instructed me to get from eBay and screwing them together with a metal rod set she’d got from a catering shop, Joe and my dad worked out in the garden together, pruning the borders and reorganizing the pots he’d brought in. Elaine, continually surprising, was putting up shelves behind the counter, like a pro.

  ‘Makes a nice change from looking down swollen throats and checking scrotums,’ Elaine said. ‘Maybe I went into the wrong profession.’

  Isabel unpacked pretty packets of hot chocolate, coffee beans, chocolate ganache and handmade biscuits that would be on sale, and I decided I should make a Lovebird cake for us all to share. The cooker was on its last legs, but it still worked well enough. After buying the ingredients from the shop opposite, I found a bowl, spoon and cake tin in the boxes of supplies I’d ordered, and got to work. With the cake in the oven, I stuck my finger in the mixture and licked the bowl clean.

  ‘Hope you’re not going to do that when you’ve got customers,’ Elaine said. ‘Environmental health will be down on you like a ton of bricks.’

  Elaine checked over her shoulder and moved closer to me, a concerned expression on her face.

  ‘Eve,’ she said quietly. ‘Can I have a word?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said, patting the seat in the kitchen. ‘Are you OK? Is Dad OK?’

  Elaine fiddled with the butterfly clip in her hair and adjusted her necklace. She cleared her throat. I set the timer on the oven clock and smiled at her.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you about Daisy,’ she said. ‘I know this isn’t really any of my business, but I thought I should tell you that she’s going to bring Ethan to your dad’s party.’

  At the mention of Ethan’s name my stomach turned over. Since I’d seen him in Clapham Common, I’d tried my hardest to put him out of my mind. I knew he and Daisy would be in contact, seeing one another, but I didn’t let myself imagine it. The thought of actually seeing him and Daisy together, in the flesh, made me feel sick. Why would she do that to me? Wasn’t it rubbing it in my face? I bit my lip hard.

  ‘What do I care?’ I said curtly. ‘Daisy obviously doesn’t care, so why should I?’

  ‘I just thought you should know,’ Elaine said. ‘Apparently she thinks it would be a good idea for Benji to see Ethan at a family function, so he realizes that Ethan is part of the family. This must be so hard on you. Are you OK?’

  My eyes pricked with unexpected tears and I took a deep breath, dumping the mixing bowl and spoon into the sink. Suddenly Joe was standing behind Elaine.

  ‘Everything all right out here?’ he said. ‘Your dad wants to see the sign, but I said it’s all still packaged, isn’t it?’

  ‘We’re fine, Joe,’ I said. ‘Just taking five minutes. I’ll come in and find the sign in a minute.’

  Joe lifted his hands up and let them fall again, turning without saying anything else. Elaine put her hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Do you think you and Daisy can be civil to each other next week?’ she said. ‘I know your dad is worrying about it. He’s not sleeping. He thinks it’s all down to him, all this trouble. He worries about what your mum would have said . . .’

  I nodded and tried to smile.

  ‘Of course we can be civil,’ I said more curtly than I’d intended. ‘There’s no need to ask.’

  The cake baked, I put it out onto the counter, and called everyone in for a slice. Cutting it open, I breathed in the wonderful smell of chocolate and almonds, handing everyone a plate.

  ‘Fantastically delicious,’ Maggie said after taking a large bite. ‘You should have won the Supper Club, not me.’

  I widened my eyes at her. I hadn’t even congratulated her. When I received the email from Dominique telling me that we’d all voted Maggie’s Supper Club the best, and that she’d won the £1,000, I’d deleted it and not given it another thought. I was far too busy thinking about Ethan and Daisy, or Joe, or the cafe.

  ‘Fisherman’s stew,’ I said. ‘That’s all I’m saying. Anyway, well done on winning. It was a dead cert, really, wasn’t it? What are you going to spend the money on?’

  ‘Rent, probably,’ Maggie said. ‘Rent, shoes and macaroons. Or maybe just macaroons.’

  Noticing Joe’s eyes flickering from Maggie to me, I smiled at him, trying to transmit that just because I was talking about the Supper Club, it didn’t mean I was thinking about Ethan, though in reality, Ethan was in my mind, especially after what Elaine had told me.

  ‘This is really something,’ said Elaine. ‘Oh my God, I’m going to get so fat now that I know you.’

  ‘Will you send some over to me in Dubai?’ Isabel asked, after polishing off her slice. ‘I actually don’t think I can live without this cake!’

  ‘Sounds like everyone approves,’ Joe said, licking his fingers, beaming at me. ‘Well done, Eve.’

  I smiled at Joe and put my arm around his waist. He was sweaty from all the hard work he’d been doing in the garden. He kissed the top of my head.

  ‘Come on, then,’ said Elaine. ‘Tell us what you’re going to call this place. I’m dying to know!’

  ‘Well, it was going to be Isabel and Eve’s,’ I said. ‘Until Isabel decided to do a bunk. Only joking,’ I said, glancing at Isabel. She raised her eyebrows comically. ‘It’s very simple,’ I said. ‘This cake, this is the one that my mum used to cook for Dad when they’d had a row. I remember it was around a lot, wasn’t it, Dad?’

  Dad burst out laughing and Elaine folded her arms, shaking her head. An image of my young self, standing in the kitchen doorway, watching my parents, their arms entwined, my dad’s nose resting on my mother’s hair, both laughing gently, flashed into my mind. I could still remember the sound of her laugh, just.

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ she said warmly. ‘I take my hat off to Audrey. She must have had the patience of a saint!’

  ‘Hey!’ Dad said, squeezing her waist. ‘I’m the perfect gentleman!’

  ‘You are,’ said Elaine. ‘Yes, you are. Anyway, so, Eve, you were saying?’

  I moved across the cafe to where the sign for the shop was propped up and wrapped in brown paper. I’d had a sneak peek earlier. I started to rip off the paper.

  ‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘she called this cake her Lovebird cake, so, when Dad gave me this recipe I thought that would be the perfect name for the cafe. I will bake this cake every day, too, so it’s always on the menu. What do you think?’

  Unwrapping the last of the paper, I held up the sign for
everyone to see. Painted on a lavender background was an outline of a teacup, with two lovebirds, their beaks together, emblazoned on the side. Above that were the words Lovebird Cafe.

  ‘Your mum would have loved to see this,’ he said. ‘Sorry, Elaine, to talk about the past.’

  ‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘I’m sure she would have been immensely proud. I am too.’

  Dad fished in his back pocket, then pulled out the black-and-white picture of him and Mum on the beach when they’d first got together that showed Mum leapfrogging Dad, her arms and legs spread out in a starfish, joy splashed across her face. He handed it to me.

  ‘I thought you could put this on your “Love” wall,’ he said. ‘To start you off. I’ll put one up there of Elaine, too, of course, so I can display my harem of women!’

  Elaine laughed and shook her head in mock horror.

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ I said. ‘I love this picture.’

  ‘I just wish Daisy was here too,’ Dad said. ‘Then everything would be just fine.’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Isabel quickly. ‘I’m enjoying myself.’

  I gave her a hard stare and turned to Dad to check he hadn’t heard. Sadness crossed his face. Joe draped his arm over my shoulders. I leaned into him, grateful for his support.

  ‘Don’t worry, Dad,’ I told him. ‘We’re sisters, we’ll stick together; we’ll be fine, I know we will.’

  Isabel raised her eyebrows at me and Maggie looked down into her tin of paint. Joe squeezed my arm.

  ‘Honestly?’ Dad asked, his face full of hope.

  ‘Honestly,’ I said, as convincingly as I could, helping myself to another slice.

  Chapter Thirty

  ‘The big day,’ Joe said, as I opened my eyes, early the following Sunday morning. ‘Good weather for it.’

  Big day. For a nanosecond I thought I’d agreed to marry Joe and we were about to get wed. An image of an out-of-control bridal horse and carriage, galloping straight past a church and disappearing over the horizon flashed into my mind. I blinked it away and smiled up at Joe. Though he’d only been back in my flat a few days, he had relaxed considerably, but I’d had a repetitive dream about us standing at the altar taking our vows. I didn’t feel either ecstatically happy or desperately unhappy in these dreams, but was hyper-aware of being watched by the congregation. Everyone staring, their eyes bulging like peeled baby shallots. And each time, just before I could say, ‘I do,’ the buttons would ping off the back of my dress or the zip would break and the dress would drop to the floor, leaving me naked and hideously embarrassed. I hadn’t told Joe about it; I knew he’d read far too much into it.

  ‘Great,’ I said, realizing it was Sunday and he was actually talking about my dad’s sixtieth party. I propped myself up in bed, next to Joe, who was drinking from a mug of coffee. ‘We should get ready. I need to iron my dress. Is there any more of that stuff? I need caffeine. And croissants.’

  As soon as I was vertical, my head filled with a million things I needed to do before everyone arrived at the cafe at lunchtime. Though it was now looking beautiful and the kitchen was fully equipped, I had food to prepare and decorations to put up. I rubbed my face with the palms of my hands. I lifted my legs out from under the duvet, preparing to get up.

  ‘Yes, but where are you going in such a hurry?’ Joe said, putting down his mug and leaning over to pull me back into bed. ‘Come here for a minute.’

  I tensed. Joe and I hadn’t made love since before the whole Supper Club episode and it was beginning to become an issue between us. Though we’d cuddled up in bed, it was as if neither of us wanted to take the lead and initiate sex. I knew Joe had now reached the end of his tether – he never normally left it this long – and he was giving us a chance, that morning, to get over the hurdle. All I had to do was relax, I told myself. It was easy, really. And when Joe started kissing my neck, I closed my eyes and instructed myself to empty my head of all the stupid anxieties that instantly filed into my mind, like soldiers standing to attention. We’d done this hundreds of times before, so why did this feel like such a big deal? I cleared my throat. Then my phone, next to the bed, beeped. Joe pulled away from me and looked from me to the phone in irritation.

  ‘Well,’ he said grumpily, ‘who is it?’

  Reaching out of the bed, I grabbed the phone and checked. When I saw Daisy’s name, my stomach flipped over. I still hadn’t seen or spoken to her since Ethan’s dinner party. Even though I’d now left three messages, she hadn’t said anything about Dad’s party, leaving me to plan the whole thing myself, even though it was her idea in the first place.

  ‘Daisy,’ I said, glancing worriedly at Joe. ‘Let me read her message.’

  With Joe peering over my shoulder, I read her text out loud.

  ‘We’ll be coming later. I’ll bring a cake. Sorry I haven’t been around, had things going on. I guess you know what they are.’

  We’ll be coming later. By that I knew she meant Ethan too. I tried to process the fact that other people at the party would assume they were a couple. I swallowed hard.

  ‘God!’ I said, throwing the phone down on the bed. ‘What’s she talking about? I can’t believe she says she’ll bring a cake. She knows damn well that’s what I’ll be doing, since that’s what I do! And what does “I’ve had things going on” mean? Haven’t we all had things going on?’

  I shook my head in annoyance, while Joe tried to placate me, but I felt furious. He lifted the hair from my neck and kissed the top of my back.

  ‘Don’t stress over her,’ he said, but I shook him off.

  ‘I’m going to have a shower,’ I said. ‘I’m too angry to speak, let alone have sex.’

  ‘Super,’ said Joe, instantly pulling away and flopping back on the bed. ‘That’s fantastic.’

  By two p.m., the sun high in the sky and baking hot, I was on my fourth glass of Pimm’s with not much lemonade and absolutely no fruit, teetering around the cafe courtyard in too-high heels, serving up plates of homemade cheese straws to the thirty party guests, all busy eating, drinking and laughing. People had been drifting in since one o’clock, making all the right sounds about the cafe, bringing Dad gifts including a very random life-size wooden pig and several bottles of champagne. With all his favourite people around him, he was in his element. But Daisy was yet to arrive and I couldn’t keep my eyes off the door. I twisted the buttons on the front of my dress, a gingham tea-dress, nervously, until Elaine slapped my hand and told me to stop.

  ‘Eve,’ said Antonia, a friend of Elaine’s, taking me by the elbow. ‘This really is a gorgeous place. I adore the “Love” board. I’ve taken a picture of my shoes and stuck it up there. I’m sure you’re going to be swamped when you open. When do you open?’

  I looked down at her shoes, bright red heels with a big red bow on the front.

  ‘Next Saturday, allegedly,’ I said, with a little grin. ‘There’s lots to do, but thanks, I’m really glad you like it and I love your shoes—’

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Daisy coming in through the cafe door. I gasped as I watched Ethan and Benji follow on behind. My heart racing, pounding in my ears, I stopped speaking.

  ‘Excuse me for a minute,’ I said to Antonia, giving her the plate of cheese straws. ‘Can you hold this?’

  Joe, who was topping up glasses with the jug of Pimm’s and watching me like a hawk, followed my eyes to the door, clocked Ethan and Daisy, then glanced back at me, anger flashing across his face. Ethan – bold as brass – came straight towards us, holding out his hand to Joe, to shake. I felt myself begin to tremble.

  ‘Good to see you again, Joe,’ Ethan said, smiling broadly. ‘Who would have thought life would turn out like this, eh? I certainly had no inkling.’

  Ethan, in actor mode now, kissed both my cheeks and complimented me on the cafe, but I saw his lips quivering. He was clearly nervous. I watched Daisy, who was pushing a sunhat on Benji’s head and hadn’t yet made eye contact with me. My mouth was dry with
nerves.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind me being here,’ Ethan said quietly into my ear. ‘Daisy insisted I came. It’s not going very well. At all.’

  Before I could reply, Ethan saw my dad and went to shake his hand. Joe came to my side and slipped his arm over my shoulder.

  ‘OK?’ he asked, gripping my arm and squeezing.

  ‘Fine,’ I nodded, listening to Ethan in the background congratulating my dad on turning sixty. I had to take my hat off to Ethan. This must be hideous for him, but he didn’t run scared.

  ‘I’m going to speak to Daisy,’ I told Joe, slipping out from under his clutch and pushing through a group of Dad’s friends, one man talking loudly about a recent trip to Hong Kong, the others politely nodding.

  I walked in from the courtyard and saw Daisy pushing a white cakebox onto the counter. I flashed with sudden anger. She was wearing a black maxi dress and platform sandals, her hair held back by a simple headband. She looked beautiful, but when she saw me, she didn’t smile.

  ‘Why did you bring a cake?’ I hissed. ‘You KNEW I’d bake one! That’s what I do. And why didn’t you answer my calls? I’ve left loads of messages for you. Do you know how difficult this has been for me?’

  Daisy handed Benji a present and told him to go and give it to Dad. She crossed her arms and waited for him to go.

  ‘You told Ethan,’ she said crossly.

  I sighed and looked at the floor.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘But, Daisy, you have to admit he needed to know. You can’t hold secrets like that away from people, it’s not fair on Ethan or Benji.’

  ‘I know, but what about me?’ she said. ‘What’s fair on me?’

  I shook my head and exhaled slowly.

  ‘I don’t know what you want,’ I said. ‘I have no idea who you are any more, Daisy. You know Mum would have hated this, that we are like this with each other. Can you remember that time, when she found out that she wasn’t getting better, that she sat us down under a tree in the park and made us promise to stick by each other? We’ve pretty much failed her, haven’t we?’