Another Cup of Coffee (30 page)

Kit sipped her drink, ‘Is that why you're so bouncy today, happy memories?'

‘You could say that, you see I've had this text from another old friend passed on to me …' Amy's explanation was cut short by the arrival of a customer.

As Kit watched Amy head towards the new arrival, she contemplated who the text might be from; she privately hoped that the upturned lips on Amy's face would stay in place until after she'd served lunch to Phil and Chris tomorrow.

Fifty-two

January 17
^th
2007

Excitement rushed through Kit as she read the email for a second time, just in case she'd misunderstood. She hadn't. Kit clutched the news to herself like a precious secret, a positive omen. It had to be a good sign.

Printing out the message, she folded it up, and slid it into her jeans pocket. Kit turned off the laptop. Gathering up her things, she squeezed the piece of paper between her fingers. If all else failed today, at least there was something to look forward to.

Sat in her corner at Pickwicks, Kit ripped a blank page from the back of her notebook, and began to jot down ideas for the new task that demanded her attention. She hardly noticed the customers come and go, her coffee being re-filled, or her empty cake plate being removed. It was almost twelve o'clock when Peggy broke through her concentration.

‘You wanted to leave by twelve today, didn't you?'

Kit looked blank; momentarily confused.

Peggy prompted her further as she picked up Kit's drained cup, ‘Phil will be here with Chris in ten minutes. You said you didn't want to be here when they talked to Amy.'

‘Hell, where's this morning gone?' Kit knocked together the crumpled pieces of notebook that littered the table.

‘What on earth have you been doing?' Peggy surveyed the unusually messy nature of her friends work.

‘Nothing much,' Kit grabbed her coat, ‘must dash.' She turned to Peggy as she waved goodbye, ‘Can you text me when they've gone?'

Too restless to go home, Kit headed towards Kew. At least one of the boys would be in the shop this afternoon, and she wanted to thank them.

Phil had been so full of ideas when he'd got home from his meeting with Jack that he'd barely touched his dinner. A pad of paper at his side, he'd jotted down thoughts and numbers, in much the same haphazard fashion as she had in Pickwicks that morning.

Kit was surprised to see that it was Jack sitting behind the counter as she pushed the door of Reading Nature open. ‘Hello, I didn't think you'd be here.'

‘Of course I'm here. What a cheek to imply I'd neglect my business!' Jack lifted his head from the pile of documents scattered across the counter and grinned impishly at Kit. ‘Nice to see you. Coffee?'

‘Naturally,' She gestured to the paperwork, ‘I'll get it, shall I? You're obviously busy.'

‘Thanks,' Jack carried on attacking his inbox. ‘This is all due to your husband.'

‘Really?' Kit called back over her shoulder as she heaped teaspoons of instant granules into their mugs.

‘I'm sorting out all the shop's financial reports, tax accounts and stuff. Best he runs the place with full knowledge of all our quirks and secrets.'

Waiting for the kettle to boil, Kit loitered at the kitchen door. ‘It's ever so good of you Jack. Phil is so excited about this.'

‘It's good of him, not me.' Jack neatened the documents into groups. ‘It means I don't have to feel guilty about running off and leaving Rob. I know it's his business too, but as I own the lion's share, it's down to me if we hit the rocks.'

‘I'm sure he'd have coped.' Kit retreated to fetch their drinks, shouting back, ‘Rob's very resourceful.'

‘I know he is. Thanks,' Jack took his mug, ‘but he shouldn't have to cope alone. Anyway, Phil already has more plans for this place than I've had in years.'

Kit grinned at her friend affectionately, ‘Where is Rob anyway?'

‘Having a well-earned day off. I think Debbie will kill me if I don't start appreciating my partner a bit more!'

‘Can't say I blame her.' Kit's eyes twinkled at him as she sat down behind the counter. She looked about her, ‘I can't picture Phil doing this though, selling books in a shop. ‘

‘Why not? It's not beneath him!'

‘Don't go all indignant,' Kit put down her mug, ‘I meant it'll feel strange. I always picture him behind a desk Monday to Friday, not in a shop, Monday to Saturday.'

‘Not every Saturday I hope. I'm pushing to employ a Saturday helper, that way Rob and Phil can take it in turns to have a weekend off.'

‘Good idea. I'll admit to being apprehensive about entertaining the twins on my own every Saturday.'

‘Are you maligning my lovely godchildren?' Jack winked playfully as he took three different-coloured folders from the drawer next to him, and began to put the papers he'd arranged inside. ‘I'd considered asking Amy to work the odd weekend, might help her finances a bit. What do you think?'

Kit started to toy with the edge of the mouse mat, ‘I'm not sure she'd want to actually.'

‘Want to, or need to?' Jack regarded Kit suspiciously. ‘You always fiddle when you're not telling me something.'

‘What makes you so sure of that?'

Jack laughed, ‘‘Cos, I know you …'

‘Very well!' They spoke together.

‘Touché!' Kit laughed. ‘I can't tell you the details, I'm sworn to secrecy.'

‘Not even a clue?'

‘Not even if you gaze coquettishly at me through those fluttering eyelashes!'

‘Swine.'

‘Anyway,' Kit knew she should tread carefully, ‘I don't think Amy would want to work for you, Jack.'

‘Why not?'

‘Oh honestly, Jack, for an intelligent man, you can be so stupid.' Kit felt exasperation rise, ‘I'll say it one last time. Amy
is
happy for you and Toby, but I'm not sure that she needs the fact of your relationship jammed down her throat at the moment.'

‘But I wouldn't even be here!'

‘Exactly, you'd be away. With Toby.'

Jack creased his brow. ‘But …?'

Kit twinkled her yes at him mischievously, ‘Did you know you always look confused when you try and work out why women think like they think? You get a little crease right in the middle of your forehead.'

Jack drank down his coffee. ‘Well, it's hardly surprising is it? You're all a bloody mystery to me!'

Checking her mobile again in case she'd failed to hear the arrival of the text she'd been waiting for, Kit sighed. There was nothing. It was almost three o'clock. She stood at the school gates, watching for her children's faces to appear amongst the crowd of rowdy freshly freed pupils.
Why hasn't Peggy texted? Why hasn't Phil? Surely the lunchtime chat couldn't still be going on?

By a quarter to four, just as Kit thought she was going to go mad with waiting, a text came through. It was from Peggy.

Sorry, been very busy. Amy still sat with them. Xx

Still there!
The table had been booked for a quarter past twelve. What the hell were they discussing? It must be a good sign if Amy had been with them over three hours? Or maybe she hadn't been with them the whole time. Perhaps lunchtime had been too busy for her to leave Peggy during the early stages of the meeting? Kit cursed herself for leaving Pickwicks. If she'd stayed then she could have helped Peggy out, and Amy would have been free earlier.

Aware she was becoming paranoid, Kit poured herself a glass of wine. A bit early in the day perhaps, but she felt like she needed it.
Anyway
Kit smiled to herself;
I'm supposed to be celebrating
.

The folded piece of paper in her jeans pocket had been a quiet source of support all day. Pulling it out, Kit read it yet again. She felt the same excited glow she'd experienced when she'd first seen the message that morning. If Phil would only text, she could share the news
. Funny
, Kit thought as she savoured her wine,
it didn't occur to me to tell Jack when I saw him
. She was dragged out of her thoughts by the ring of the phone.

‘Kit Lambert speaking … Oh, hello, it's kind of you to call …'

Fifty-three

January 17
^th
2007

Ignoring the steaming cup of coffee that Scott had brewed for her, Amy excused herself from Pickwicks as quickly as she could. She could see that Peggy had been looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something, but Amy wasn't in the mood to talk. She stalked towards the railway station and the soon to close Kew Gardens.

That morning she'd woken up with the increasingly common feeling of financial insecurity swimming around her head. And now, out of nowhere, she'd been given a way out. A chance of a job. No. The chance of a career. A future in a thriving company. Not a lowly position from which she could work up, but a managerial appointment. That sort of thing just never happens in real life.

Phil had cast his personal knowledge of Amy aside, and had been very professional throughout the impromptu meeting. He'd told her what he was wanted for Home Hunters, why he wanted it, and that if Amy was interested and was confident she could fulfil that role, he would need to see a full CV and references.

Chris, the other manager, had been openly cautious. Explaining, quite frankly, that he required a partner whom he could trust and relate to. Amy had found herself thrown into a position of justifying herself, her past work, her current employment and her future with absolutely no prior warning at all.

She knew she should be thrilled. She'd been more or less promised the post after successfully impressing Chris, and earning a private thumbs-up from Phil. Instead Amy felt angry. Manipulated. She cringed as she imagined Kit and Phil hatching up the plot, arranging to save her, without even thinking to mention it to her first.

Slamming the door of the Princess of Wales Conservatory shut behind her, Amy sat onto the first bench she came to and tried to arrange her thoughts. She didn't doubt that they'd acted in good faith, but surely Kit of all people would have realised how important it was for her to sort her own life out. After years of hiding, of keeping everything safe, of not being brave enough to make herself a future, she had to be the one to do it. To break the mould; to make her own way.

Her mobile vibrated in her pocket. It had gone off several times since she'd walked out of the café, but Amy left the texts unread. They would be from Kit or Peggy, delighted on her behalf. Expecting her to be celebrating, not seething.

Feeling as prickly as the cacti that surrounded her, Amy attempted to calm down.
Logically. I must think logically.

The first fact she thought, as she watched the last tourists of the day pass her by, was that for the first time since leaving university she had friends that cared for her enough to try and help her.
But how dare … No, be calm. Think logically
.

The second fact was that she badly needed a well-paid job – and this was a really good one. Amy knew that it was a post she would have applied for anyway if she'd seen it advertised. She'd be able to use all the skills she'd built up in her previous job, as well as the customer relations stuff so recently honed to perfection with Peggy. Work would only take up four days of the week, albeit long days, and in time there would be a salary large enough to secure her rent and living expenses.

Thirdly, she'd meet new people. Phil had said that the office staff were all lovely. ‘And let's face it,' Amy muttered quietly to herself, ‘I'll never meet the bloke of my dreams at Pickwicks.'

Getting up, Amy began to walk towards the exit, and on through the gloomy, flickering street light darkness of early evening. The initial shock and outrage began to wear off as she considered how nice it would be to have a living wage coming in again. How lovely it would be not to eat Marmite on toast every night for fear of spending too much on food. Kit and Peggy would have been horrified to learn that the only proper meals she'd eaten lately were the pizzas she'd had with Jack, Christmas dinner with her parents, and the free food Scott gave her for lunch, most of which was consumed on the hoof between serving customers.

Amy strode past Reading Nature without a second glance. Rob might well have heard about her job offer by now. Maybe he'd known about it before she did. She was damn sure that Jack would know. Kit talked to him about everything. That meant Toby would know too. She clenched her hands until her fingernails cut into her palms skin.

The first of February. That was when they were leaving. Amy couldn't decide if she wanted the time to go faster, or if she wanted it to drag, so that she could get used to the idea.
Idiot
. There was nothing to get used too. It was nothing to do with her.

Exhaling noisily as her phone buzzed again, Amy gave in and retrieved her mobile from her inside pocket. Four unanswered messages flashed at her.

The first was from Peggy.

You ok? Great news on job. Don't worry about café. Go for it! Peg x

The second and third, spaced about thirty minutes apart, were from Kit.

Heard from Phil. Said offered you job. Fantastic. Are you pleased? K x

Amy? You ok? Peggy says you left work in a hurry. Call me. K xx

It was the next text that stopped her in her tracks however. It had come from Rob.

Got great news. Paul coming next Tuesday. Dig finished early. Ideas for day out??? R x

Amy felt her frown smooth away. Rob hadn't known about the job. Perhaps Jack didn't either then? Surely she'd have received a text from him if he had. Maybe she hadn't been quite as set up as she'd first believed?

After tapping out a message to Kit to say she was fine and thinking things over, Amy read Rob's text again. Paul really was coming to visit. It would be so lovely to see him.
Maybe we could go to Covent Garden, work our way around some coffee stops. Perhaps the National Gallery and then lunch in St. Martin-in-the-Fields vault? Perhaps …