Noah’s eyes sparkled with humour.
‘Easy?’ he said. ‘You haven’t seen the size of the pay cheque. It’s hard work, on your feet all day, serving customers, and we often have to get up early to bake cakes. Plus the boiler has a mind all of its own. Stone-cold showers are occasionally the order of the day. And Elle loves reality shows – it’s not worth being under this roof if her favourite contestant doesn’t win. So, you taking the easy option? Don’t kid yourself about that.’
His eyes crinkled. ‘Quite the opposite. I think it would be brave.’ He shot me an earnest look and his tone lowered. ‘I admire you, to be honest. Some might say you had a perfect right to legally take your husband to the cleaners after what he’s done, force him to sell off all his assets and live off whatever is left. And … recently I’ve had to start over. If I’ve managed it, you can. I often think life is just a series of lessons. Perhaps this is your next one.’ He smiled. ‘Wow. Sounds like I’m getting serious in my old age.’
I stared into those eyes, past the twinkle to the more obscure depths underneath and wondered why he’d been pushed to make a fresh start. Was that why he was so quick to help me? Noah glanced at the door as he heard the voices of new customers. ‘Mull it over anyway. It’s a starting point.’ He shrugged. ‘Who knows … perhaps you and your husband will sort out this mess. Maybe things won’t seem so hopeless with him, once you have talked things through.’
‘Thanks. I really appreciate it,’ I mumbled.
He nodded his head.
More slowly this time, I headed back to my car, feeling ashamed of the niggling voices in my head that still popped up, saying that Mrs Zachary Masters couldn’t possibly work in a café. It would be embarrassing. My pace quickened. Yet what choice did I have? Those voices were wrong. A job was a job – especially for someone like me who was considered unsuitable for most employment. And Noah was right. Now, at least, I had a plan, even if the thought of it made my legs feel weak.
I liked Elle and Noah, and they’d become familiar – if vaguely intriguing – members of the village, but I didn’t know them well. And April and I were used to Dot’s meals. To comfy bedrooms. To not worrying about paying for the next food bill or tank of petrol. My marital home was a cosy space where April and I had everything we wanted.
Tracing my steps back to the car in a daze, I tripped over a steep cobble. If April was here how we would have giggled. How long would it be before we found the little things funny again? Whatever Noah said – however much my heart was breaking – I suspected, deep down, that my marriage had no future. Not after all these months of deception regarding Chanelle and our finances.
Halfheartedly, I hummed April’s favourite pop song to myself, hoping it would cheer me up, but it didn’t work.
Did I really have what it took to go it alone?
Chapter Five
I strode onto the decking porch of the summerhouse at the bottom of our garden. It was seven days on from the Sunday when Noah had made me the job offer, two weeks since Zak had dropped his bombshell. Yes, time moved slowly and I counted not only every day, but every painful hour as well.
I’d returned home to a massive argument. Zak had decided any more discussion was pointless and simply wanted all the new arrangements quickly set in place. No doubt Chanelle was the driving force behind this. Whenever I asked for details about exactly when he’d developed feelings for my ex best friend and all the places he’d taken her, and what their intentions were, he just raised his palm in my face and refused to answer. He said that dissecting the past wouldn’t help us plan the future. That what was done was done.
Cue the last one hundred and sixty-eight hours of stony silence. I don’t think he believed I’d move out, take a job, start over. This helped me reach a rapid decision about accepting Noah’s offer – for April’s sake. She needed stability, not to exist in an uncomfortable limbo. When I mentioned the job at The Coffee Club, Zak pursed his lips – and confused our daughter by rolling his eyes every time I broached the subject of her and me leaving The Willows. Honestly. Zak needed to face reality. If I pressed him he would talk of impatient creditors and trying to avoid more layoffs. Our house had to be put on the market as quickly as possible.
Reality bit him firmly, yesterday, when he spied the packed bags that I’d started to move over to Noah’s cottage. Cue another argument, thankfully out of April’s earshot. Although I didn’t need to worry too much about my daughter overhearing – these days her earphones seemed permanently stuck in her ears. Time and time again I’d insist she remove them, with Zak remaining tight-lipped, clearly thinking I was making a fuss over nothing. I swallowed. Perhaps the more laid-back Chanelle was a refreshing change from me, especially lying on sheets, enticing him with her surgically perfect figure.
I sighed.
I needed to get a grip. A sob unexpectedly rose in my chest. Zak and I were two halves of a whole, weren’t we? With April at the centre? I pursed my lips, determined not to let that bubble of emotion escape my lips. We’d decided not to tell our daughter about the money problems – understanding our separation would be tough enough. That meant, as far as she was concerned, Mummy being cross with Daddy was the sole reason I’d got a job and found a new home. I was prepared to be the bad cop if it protected her – even if her anger towards me made me want to curl up and die.
Feeling a bit shaky, I sat down in one of the chairs. The summerhouse stood just in front of a weeping willow tree. I remembered how a very young April used to love hiding under the drooping branches. She’d chase next door’s cat across the lawn or play dead whilst butterflies landed on her colourful summer clothes. I gave a small smile. What fun we used to have, when she was a little older, lying in deckchairs, me with a book, her with a ‘tween’ magazine. The garden had served no purpose to her over the last year, now she’d become part of Skye’s sophisticated set. I closed my eyes. However, over the last week it had been home to her bewildered sobs.
‘I don’t understand, Mum. You tell me to make up with friends after fallouts. Why can’t you and Dad do the same?’
My stomach churned. What response could I possibly give?
‘When you marry someone there has to be more than friendship …’
‘You mean the love stuff?’ Her voice had wobbled slightly, as we’d sat next to each other, on her bed.
I’d nodded.
‘And the love stuff has gone?’ Water had pooled in the corners of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.
I’d held my breath, not wanting to affirm this. ‘Yes,’ I’d finally whispered, unable to ignore her piercing stare. My throat had ached as if someone was strangling every last puff of breath out of me, and as if I, and I alone, had thrust a spear through my daughter’s heart.
‘Can’t you get it back?’ she’d asked, panic rising in her voice.
I shook my head. ‘No. Magic like that usually only has one life.’
‘Will your magic feelings for me run out one day, too?’ she’d mumbled, brow furrowed.
‘No! Never. Parent magic never dies. You will always be the most loved thing in Daddy and my lives.’
‘I don’t understand,’ she’d sobbed and burrowed her face in my chest.
Me neither, I’d secretly added as I hugged her tight. Oh, so tight. She didn’t deserve this pain.
Then she’d pulled back and wiped her eyes. A determined look had crossed her face. ‘But Daddy says we can still live here. You’re more cross with him. He must have magic left for you.’ She’d folded her arms. ‘It’s so unfair. You’re ruining everything. I want to stay.’
Cue a week full of sulks and small pointed fingers – at me. Doors slammed. Feet stomping. It was as if she’d been propelled into early teenage-hood. This was all Zak’s fault, but I didn’t want April to know that.
I opened my eyes and gazed at the summerhouse again. Zak had built it for me as a first anniversary gift. I’d squealed and jumped up and down at the time, gus
hing over the gingerbread-house windows, slanted roof, and flowerpots on the decking. Plus the front door bore a metallic butterfly that glinted in the sunshine.
‘It’s too much,’ I’d said, after being led down the garden to see it, eyes shut, still not used to Zak’s wealth. ‘You are the best husband ever.’
My shoulders drooped now, at the thought of how I’d subsequently thanked him, under the nearby weeping willow tree. I always remembered every detail of our lovemaking. Yet … funny, wasn’t it? Other memories of our relationship seemed blurry in comparison.
‘Has April actually packed?’ said a tight voice that brought me back to the present as Zak sat down in a chair. Sunlight fell on our faces. Birds chirped. The grass still smelt fresh after being mown yesterday. Everything was idyllic – apart from the fact my husband was in love with another woman.
‘Almost,’ I said as he wrung his hands, dressed in a bright polo shirt and trousers. ‘Although why you’re suddenly so bothered about her welfare I have no idea.’ I faced him, anger that had been simmering for days really starting to bubble.
He leant forwards and held his head in his hands. ‘It’s such a mess. This has come out of nowhere. I wouldn’t blame you for thinking me a complete bastard.’
Wow. An ounce of remorse at this late stage? I should have felt touched but it just made my fists curl tighter.
‘I didn’t believe you would actually leave our home to work in a poxy coffee shop,’ he said in a muffled voice. ‘Don’t go, Jenny. Stay here. You need to find work but you can find something better than that. Think of April’s needs.’
‘You sound just like the people who voted for Brexit and then complained that they never really thought it would happen.’ I snorted. ‘Honestly, Zak. Me think of April? You should have thought of April before you failed to keep your fly zipped outside of marriage,’ I snapped. Talk about double standards.
Zak looked up and shrugged. ‘Guilty as charged. But you’ll always be the mother of my daughter and … despite the difficulties ahead of us, I’ll do right by you, financially, when I can.’
Financially? My nails dug into the palms of my hands. As if that meant anything to me. It was his love I’d wanted, not his wallet. ‘That’s what got us in this mess in the first place – you thinking you were doing right by me, just because I was pregnant.’ I gulped.
‘Jenny. Look, why exactly can’t you stay here?’
I stared at him. Denial should be his middle name.
‘Apart from anything else, we’re practically bankrupt. We can’t pay the mortgage, the bills, the staff. How can we stay here?’ I was incredulous.
He stared at the wooden slatted floor.
‘Look at me.’
Finally his eyes met mine.
‘The Willows needs to be sold. End of. Creditors have to be paid. It’s time to fly out of cloud cuckoo land and face these problems head on.’
‘Don’t you feel anything for our home?’ He shook his head.
‘How dare you! You questioning my feelings for the life we’ve made together? This home meant everything to me, but how could I stay and imagine you and Chanelle doing it on our kitchen table, on the sofa or in front of the fire?’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘My mind’s been like a search engine, picking out all the times April and I were out of the house. I found an earring once under our bed. You said it must have belonged to Dot – but she hasn’t got pierced ears. And the lounge once smelt of smoke when we returned from an event at the school. Chanelle must have visited.’ I’d known a golfing buddy hadn’t been the culprit, as Zak had claimed, but I’d closed my eyes to the truth. I’d been such a fool. If Zak’s middle name was Denial then mine was Gullible.
His bottom lip stuck out, just like sulky April’s had all week. ‘I suppose you’re after a half share. But like you say, creditors come first.’
I sniffed. ‘As much as I despise your behaviour, I won’t be going after any so-called share. I won’t have this bankruptcy on my head.’ I pursed my lips. ‘Your parents were the best; they welcomed me with open arms. Elite Eleganz is their life’s work. I don’t want to play a part in its failure.’
We looked at each other again and his eyes glistened. ‘I’ve let them down big time, as well. The business is everything they worked for. The Willows, my parents … so many memories.’
Yes, so many memories you’ve now trampled over. Past images of family meals and celebrations in the house flicked through my mind.
My voice wobbled. I had to ask, just to make sure, even though every vein in my body throbbed with his betrayal. ‘You’re sure you want to break up our family; you’re sure you and I couldn’t … you know… try again,, for April’s benefit?’
My eyes widened. I could tell the answer was a no, but I’d had to ask. I needed to know that there was nothing I could have done to save our marriage, our family.
‘You know the hardest thing? Looking back, Chanelle’s excitement at finding out who I was married to the very first time we met … It wouldn’t surprise me if she had this planned from the start. And you’ve fallen for her plan hook, line, and sinker. Led by your balls instead of your brain. What a cliché. You’ve been played. So have I. This love affair didn’t just innocently happen. With that level of deceit from the start, what future can it possibly have?’
He looked up and his nostrils flared. ‘Think that if you will.’
‘Call in her loan, Zak. Chanelle’s business is doing well enough at the moment.’
Cheeks flushed, he shook his head.
‘Why not?’ Okay. Mustn’t shout. April might hear.
‘Her repayments are the only thing keeping Elite Eleganz afloat at the moment,’ he muttered and broke eye contact.
‘Liar! For Christ’s sake, Zak. Just be honest. You can’t bear to ask her, can you? Can’t bear to upset your sweet little bit-on-the-side …’ Love really did make people blind. ‘Is that really it? We’re over?’ I said, hating myself for those words.
But I had to persist, even at this last stage. How could he just toss ten years down the drain? And – an uncomfortable sensation shifted inside my chest – I was afraid. Afraid of leaving behind those cosy memories and striking out on my own. I admit it. Things weren’t perfect, but maybe our relationship would improve? People got back together after worse things, right? Only last week I read in the paper how a man in the States murdered his in-laws for money and his wife still visited him on Death Row.
I swallowed, trying to ignore the voice in my head that said cowardice was never the best option; that I had to accept my situation and let go.
‘You and me, we’re done? You aren’t even going to put up a fight?’ I said, in an oh-so-small voice.
‘Oh, Jenny.’ Dark circles were etched under his eyes. ‘April will always link us together.’
Once more, anger inflated my chest. What if our split screwed up our daughter? You read about it in the papers. Being fussy about food might just be the start of a whole gamut of problems. Maybe we could work things out, make do, until she was just a bit older?
I swallowed – swallowed my pride, fingers curling at the words I was about to emit.
‘I’ll say it again – what about counselling? Let’s try and get past this – be a family again. We could, I don’t know, move away from the village. Start afresh.’
He met my gaze and my spirits rose. Was he going to say yes? My shoulders relaxed at the glimmer of hope that this was all a horrible mistake and we could get our lives back on track. Deep down Zak loved me. I wouldn’t work in a coffee shop. April and I would continue to enjoy a luxury life. My comfort zone would be reinstalled. He reached across the gap between the chairs and his strong fingers curled around mine. My hand betrayed my broken heart as, despite my anger, I automatically squeezed his fingers back.
His kiss-me stare used to melt my insides, along with the strong mouth that reminded me of the first time our lips had met. I was interviewing him for my college’s stude
nt magazine. Over the weeks of my placement at Elite Eleganz, we’d become closer. When he supervised my work, he stood nearer, his body close to mine, a hand occasionally brushing my back. We laughed. Shared a few secrets. I told him about my teenage crush on Piers Morgan. He revealed an old school admiration of Doris Day music. I’d asked him the final question for my interview: what fascinated him most about fashion? His answer? How he loved making women feel good about themselves, as he truly believed you had to love Number One first before being ready to love another.
Then he’d stood up, come around to my side of the desk, and sat down on the chair next to me. Gingerly, I’d stretched out my hand and run my fingers though his chestnut hair. He’d leant forward and I’d closed my eyes in anticipation. His mouth met mine and he tenderly kissed me back. In an easy fashion, he had slipped his arms around my back and he pulled me onto his lap. I had wrapped my legs around his waist and I’d pushed my body against his, weeks of attraction willing him to satisfy my desires.
I shook myself as Zak spoke in a stiff voice.
‘I’m sorry, Jenny, but no. Counselling? I see no point. Remember, at your insistence, I tried it after Mum’s death.’ He gave an ugly laugh. ‘It didn’t bring her back. It didn’t change a thing.’
‘You only lasted for one session.’
‘And that was enough.’ He sighed. ‘But I promise, April will be all right. She won’t be the only one of her friends to have divorced parents.’
I pulled away my hand. ‘And that makes it okay?’
His jaw clenched. ‘Of course not, but –’
I threw my hands in the air and got to my feet. ‘Zak. Come on. We can’t just throw away ten years of marriage,’ I finally shouted, tears running down my face.
He stood up too and folded his arms. ‘For God’s sake calm down, April might hear.’
‘Ha! And we can’t have that now, can we?’ I wiped my eyes with my arm. ‘Oh no. Far better to pretend that her father isn’t the two-timing philanderer I’ve recently come to know.’ My voice shook. ‘What’s happened to you, Zak? Where’s the man I married? The man I admired?’ I stretched out my arms. ‘Zak! You were my world!’
The New Beginnings Coffee Club Page 6