Another Cup of Coffee (23 page)

‘Oh Peg,' Kit hugged her friend, ‘if there's anything I can do, just shout.'

‘Thanks,' Peggy forced on a professional smile, ‘I know it'll pass, and the physiotherapy is going well. He can already stand on crutches for a short while, which is a miracle if you think about it, but for cooking and stuff he's much better off sitting in the chair.'

‘I tell you what, if it helps, I'll pour my own coffee.'

‘Well, I guess that will cut out about half my workload!' Peggy laughed, changing the subject, ‘How about Phil? Still determined to sell the business in the New Year?'

‘So he says. As soon as he's found a new project Home Hunters will be put on the market. It'll be strange, but I think it's for the best. Now Phil's made the decision he's like a new person; it's lovely. Suddenly he's full of life again. I knew it was getting him down, but I hadn't understood how much.'

‘I think I understand perfectly,' Peggy spoke wistfully, hauling herself back to her feet.

‘Oh Peggy,' Kit was horror struck, ‘I'm so sorry. I'm damn tactless sometimes.'

Peggy raised her hand in reassurance, ‘Don't be daft. I'm pleased for you. Really I am.' She continued with her earlier line of enquiry. ‘Is this a good time for him to find a buyer, do you think?'

‘I'm not sure. Christmas and the New Year are his quietest times anyway; it makes sense to tie up loose ends now before he moves on. Maybe he'll put it on the market in the spring.'

‘Talking of Christmas, I don't suppose you and the kids would like to come and put up the tree and decorations for me this weekend? Scott and I normally enjoy doing it together, but this year I can't face it.'

Kit put her hand over Peggy's and squeezed it gently, ‘Of course, no problem. The kids will love it.'

By two o'clock the dinner time custom had lulled enough for Peggy to retreat into the kitchen, and Kit called Amy to her table. ‘Are you doing anything on Saturday night?'

‘Not so far. Why?' She pulled out a chair and sat down.

‘Peggy needs to remember what it's like to have fun. Fancy plotting to rescue her for a night?'

You're on, but what about Scott?'

‘He and Jack have been getting on like a house on fire. We could put Jack in charge of all things Scott.'

‘He might be going clubbing or something.'

‘Tough!'

‘Fair enough.' Amy stood up again, ‘I'm seeing Jack tonight. Do you want me to ask him?'

‘No. I want you to
tell
him.'

The pub was surprisingly quiet, but then it was only six o'clock when Amy sat down on a cushion-clad pine settle in front of a roaring log fire. Amy felt the ripple of the flames glow on her face as the reflection of the ember heat stung her eyes, while she watched the sparking of a blazing log jumping and cracking in the confines of the fire place.

‘Here you go,' Jack placed a wine glass on the rickety table in front of Amy, before pushing up next to her.

‘Thanks,' Amy gulped down the cool liquid. ‘So, how's tricks work-wise? Christmas trade picking up yet?'

They settled into comfortable chat about the shop, speculated about how much money Phil might get for Home Hunters, what he might do next, how Kit's novel was progressing, and a wide variety of everything and nothing until about half-past nine, when Jack's mobile burst into song, announcing the arrival of a text.

‘Oh shit'

‘What is it?'

‘I'm sorry Amy; I'm going to have to shoot off. It's Nick.'

‘Nick?' Amy's brow creased, she was positive he'd never mentioned a Nick before.

‘A clubbing mate. Looks like his boyfriend's buggered off. Literally. Can't say I'm surprised. He wants me to go round to his place. Wants someone to whinge to, I suppose.' Jack placed a hand on her knee. ‘Sorry Amy. I hate to abandon you here, especially after I had to leave early at the cinema last week.'

‘Don't worry, it can't be helped.'

‘Thanks Amy. I'm sure he'll be fine, he's a real drama queen, regular crises, you know? But I should go all the same. Do you want me to take you home first?'

She could tell Jack was itching to leave, ‘No thanks, I'll finish my drink and get a cab if I can't face the walk, it's not far.'

Jack leant forward and kissed her cheek. ‘You're the best.' He swigged down his beer and virtually ran for the door.

It was only after he'd gone that Amy remembered she hadn't asked him about Scott-sitting.

Forty

December 7
^th
2006

‘Good morning Helena, how are you today sweetie?'

‘Hey Jack, what are you doing here this early?' Helena crashed down at the table in her Pooh Bear pyjamas, imperiously awaiting her breakfast.

Kit raised her eyes to ceiling, waiting to see how Jack would reply.

‘I stayed over with a friend down the road, thought I'd come and see my favourite godchildren before school.'

‘Yeah right, Jack!'

‘Helena!' Kit spoke sternly to her daughter, ‘don't use that sarcastic tone please.'

‘Why doesn't he just say he spent the night at his boyfriend's then? You told us we shouldn't lie!'

Kit couldn't suppress her grin, ‘Oh, go and clean your teeth, child.'

‘But I haven't had breakfast yet!'

‘Go and do them anyway. Go on!'

As Helena was hustled from the room, Jack struggled not to laugh, ‘Are you
sure
she's only nine?'

‘Don't!'

‘I still can't get used to it, you know, you being a mum.'

‘Neither can I. My mum says she isn't used to being a parent yet, so I guess I still have time to adjust!' Kit moved around the room, performing the morning tasks on autopilot, ‘I take it you had to get up early as Toby has to cross London to get to work.'

‘You've got it.' Jack's satisfied face spoke volumes about how he'd spent the previous night.

Kit raised her eyes to the ceiling again. ‘Now you're here you can make yourself useful. Go and shake your godson awake for me. Then, if you're a good boy I'll let you have some toast and jam, and you can help me walk them to school.'

‘Cor, ta Mum,' Jack dived off his stool, ducking Kit's attempt to swipe him around the head.

Kit grabbed the sandwich bags with one hand and flicked on the radio with the other, speaking to the DJ sternly, ‘I need you to play something to get my brain in gear this morning.'

She laughed as the DJ's dulcet tones announced the next record. ‘Thanks, that's just what I needed.' Kit sang along as Queen's ‘I'm Going Slightly Mad' filled both the nation's airwaves and her kitchen. Kit's voice was crescendo-ing to full pelt when her mobile hummed. It was a message from Amy.

Once the children were delivered to school and Kit's flustered-mother levels had returned to normal, she got round to asking Jack if he fancied spending an evening with Scott. ‘It'll do them both good to have a break from each other.'

Jack nodded in agreement. ‘Where will you take Peg?'

‘Probably the cinema, she doesn't really go for restaurant trips, so a drink and a film would seem the sensible alternative. I don't think any of us are up to clubbing these days.'

‘No stamina, you youngsters.'

‘True.' Kit swung her bag over her other shoulder as they walked down Richmond's main street, ‘but on the other hand none of us are on the pull, and at our age what other reason is there for going?'

‘To have a good time, you sad old thing,' Jack poked Kit in the ribs, ‘and anyway, Amy could be. Looking for a partner I mean.'

‘Not sure she's interested right now.'

‘Why not? Has she found someone on the sly and not told me?' Jack found that although he'd been joking, he didn't like that idea very much.

‘Don't be daft. Anyone she was remotely interested in she'd drag around for you to vet.'

‘Yes, she would wouldn't she.' Jack felt instantly reassured.

‘God help her.'

‘And what is that supposed to mean?'

Kit ignored him, and abruptly serious asked, ‘Have you introduced Toby to Amy yet?'

‘Um,' Jack scuffed his feet in the same way that her son did when Kit was telling him off.

‘Christ, Jack, you have told her about him haven't you?'

‘Well, not exactly. I've told Toby all about her though, about all of you actually.'

Kit's face was a picture of righteous indignation. ‘Don't you ever learn, Jack Brown? You must tell Amy, or you'll be hurting her all over again.'

‘I know,' Jack spoke quietly, ‘but I don't know how, we've been so close again, like … I don't know, like …'

‘A relationship without sex?'

‘Well, yes. How did …?'

‘Amy has become a friend, Jack, and women talk to each other. I feel like I'm keeping secrets from her, and I don't like it!' She relented a fraction. ‘Please, do something before you screw up again, OK?'

‘I suppose you're right.'

‘I know I'm right.' Kit linked her arm through his. ‘Did you and Toby enjoy the club last night?'

Jack's head shot up, his face pale, ‘Club?'

‘Sure, I saw you both at about half ten last night outside Heaven; I was over that way with Phil.' Kit looked at him suspiciously.

‘Oh right, yes, of course. It was good.'

Arriving at their point of separation, Kit turned to Jack.

‘Remember what I said about telling Amy.'

‘I'll tell her.' Jack sounded definite.

‘Good, now in the meantime go to work, Rob must be fed up of carrying that place on his own.'

‘Yes, Mum.'

‘Hi,' Kit hailed Amy as she walked through Pickwicks towards her table.

‘Morning,' Amy came forward, a mug of already to hand, ‘scone or pastry?'

‘Scone please, got any cheese ones?'

‘Yep, Scott's just taken some out of the oven. They'll be lovely and warm.' Amy disappeared into the kitchen, soon returning with a beautifully aromatic steaming scone and a pile of butter portions.

‘That's great, thanks!' Kit arranged her notebooks around the plate. ‘Good evening last night?'

Amy, reluctant to let on that Jack had abandoned her, even if it had been to go on another errand of mercy, simply said, ‘Yeah, it was nice. Quiet, what I needed really.'

‘Phil and I went over to some posh restaurant by the Millennium Bridge, one of his business dinner things. All very suited, booted, and serious.'

‘I didn't think you went to those things with him?'

‘I don't usually, but this was a posh-do-with-partners thing. Very much the three-line whip, especially in light of the possible sale.' Kit laughed. ‘I didn't mind though, my neighbour was free to babysit, and it was great food. We had a moonlit ride on the London Eye.'

‘Sounds lovely.'

‘It was, oh, and I saw Jack.'

Amy's stomach contracted, ‘Really?'

‘He was queuing with a friend for one of the gay clubs over that way. You guys meet up early then?'

‘Yeah, like I say, I was tired. He must have gone on from me to the club.' Questions somersaulted around Amy's head, but she was interrupted in her tacit pondering by the arrival of a customer. She'd have to do her thinking later.

When her late lunch break arrived, Amy took herself outside into the fresh air. It was drizzling and cold, but she needed to get away for a while. She wanted to believe that Nick really existed. She really wanted to believe that Jack had gone to see him, and in an attempt to cheer him up, had taken him clubbing. Amy wanted to believe it very much, but she wasn't sure that she did.

Forty-one

December 7
^th
2006

‘Are you free tonight, Amy?' Jack's voice echoed down the line, ‘I want to make up it up to you for leaving you in the pub last night.'

Immediately on her guard, Amy replied, ‘Are
you
free tonight then?'

Completely missing the undercurrent, Jack continued, ‘Yes of course, that's why I called. Fancy a pizza out? My treat. I could come and pick you up, about eight?'

‘I don't think so, Jack.'

Jack was thrown off balance, Amy never said no, not to him anyway. Perhaps she had a date? After a second's silence, he rallied, ‘You busy this evening then?'

‘No.'

‘Why not come then?'

Fiddling with the objects on the kitchen side as she paced the floor, the cordless phone pressed to her ear, Amy delivered the speech she'd been rehearsing in her head all afternoon. ‘It was bad enough being continually stood up, or simply forgotten about, when we were a couple, Jack. I'm not putting up with it again. Not anymore. I'm supposed to be a friend, for heaven's sake. I deserve better.'

Jack's voice became wary, ‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean, how long into the evening before a mate rings to cry on your shoulder? How much time do we have before someone becomes ill, and you need to go mop their brow? Or,' Amy paused for a lungful of air before she powered on, ‘how many minutes before you get itchy feet and decide you'd prefer to be out clubbing like a teenager? Or how long before you find the desperate desire to go and find some bloke to shag too overwhelming to stay for pudding, or coffee, or the end of the film?'

The phone line cracked with static silence. Amy knew Jack was still there, possibly he was considering if there was any point in denying what she'd said.

‘How did you know?' When he did speak, his voice was quiet, contrite even.

‘At first I didn't. I thought – more fool me- what a nice chap you were, going to the aid of your friends. Then, well, it happened too often, and alarm bells began to ring. I ignored them at first, persuaded myself that I was being paranoid, but then Kit saw you last night outside a club with some mates.'