only she knew. Every year, at Oakwood Towers, teachers were lavished with gift cards and designer accessories for birthdays and Christmas.
I brushed the thought away that this would probably be the last term April would be spending at Oakwood. I didn’t know how I was going to tell her. She loved that school, and all her friends.
‘You okay?’ asked Elle in a gentle voice as she handed me the brownies and stared at my face.
‘Fine, thanks. How much do I owe you?’ I stuttered to Elle who was on the till. My eyes welled with water, like a dam about to burst. It was all too much. I tried to stifle a sob.
Noah got to his feet. He must have been counting stock on the lowest levels of his shelves. In a flash he’d moved around the glass counter. He draped one of those strong arms around my shoulders and he guided me through to the back and into their home. Without protesting, I sat down at the pine kitchen table. He passed me a square of kitchen roll and I blew my nose.
‘If it’s privacy you need, stay here as long as you like. We’re still open for a couple of hours,’ he said firmly. He hesitated, then went to leave.
My chin trembled. ‘Don’t tempt me. I might stay here for ever.’
He raised an eyebrow as a solitary tear trickled down my face. Previously I’d only ever talked to the coffee shop owner about the weather or his work. He was always so cheerful and charming. I’d never heard him utter an irritated word or seen him frown. New to the village about twelve months ago, Noah kept himself to himself, which intrigued the locals. The primary subject of gossip was whether he was dating his co-worker, Elle.
‘Jenny? Everything okay? Any way I can help?’
‘No. I’m fine. It’s just …’ A lump swelled in my throat and – oh no – burst. Sobs racked my body. He wrapped his arm around me again but I shook it off. ‘No. Don’t. Please. Any act of kindness … it might finish me off.’ I buried my face in the kitchen roll until the sobbing eventually subsided and then I blew my nose.
‘Do you want me to ring anyone? Your husband?’
Sobs threatened again so I bit the insides of my cheeks. ‘No thanks. I’ll be okay.’ My eyes tingled. Who could I speak to? In the early years I’d made friends at toddlers group, but most of those women had gone back to work. The others couldn’t afford to send their daughters to all-girls Oakwood Towers school and eventually their children’s friendships with April had faded away.
I’d been good friends with the mum of April’s best mate, but then that family headed off to Dubai. As for Mum and Dad, they lived in deepest Wales, and I didn’t want to concern them when I was in this state.
I shook myself and forced my lips to upturn in Noah’s direction, ignoring the voice in my head that howled like an injured animal at the thought that the two adults closest to me had carried out the worst act of betrayal. Plus we were skint. That had slowly sunk in this last week – along with all the consequences. I’d have to get a job. Destroy my store cards. Forget my dreams of college. And, worst of all … April. I shook my head. How could she leave Oakwood Towers?
Jeez. I was having a full-blown pity party.
I cleared my throat and tried to think of something positive.
‘Come on. Much as I love coffee, there might be some truth in there being nothing a good cup of tea can’t solve. So that’s a necessity, not an act of kindness.’ He filled the kettle. ‘No arguments. Stay here until you feel better.’
I half-smiled. Here was my positivity. A nice guy making me a cuppa. But then the negative narrative started up once more and my shoulders slumped. ‘Okay. I … I suddenly feel so tired. I’m too done in to argue. You’re very kind.’ I gazed at his broad back. The Coffee Club was one of the few places I’d let April visit on her own, with her friends. From the first moment I’d met Noah there seemed to be something trustworthy about him. Perhaps it was his name – the biblical implication that he was something of a hero and would save the day.
I could to with a cosmic miracle today all right. Blocking out thoughts of Zak for a moment, I watched Noah take out the teabags. I wondered if he was an expert on them as well. His depth of knowledge about coffee beans was outstanding. At the last tasting session he’d introduced a bean from Colombia. It came from the highest elevations of the Andes and apparently produced a dark, slightly sweet coffee with a walnut-like aftertaste in contrast to a favourite bean of his, from Africa, which had a definite smoky flavour.
Chanelle smoked now and again. Outside of the house. Never in front of Skye. I wondered if her kisses tasted of the clandestine drags of tobacco. Maybe Zak liked that. Perhaps my kisses tasted too safe, too vanilla.
My hands trembled and I dabbed my eyes again as Noah set down two cups of tea and sat opposite me.
‘Thanks. What must you think? It’s just that me and Zak … I thought he got me, you know?’ I forced a smile.
Noah stared at me for a moment and then shrugged and his eyes crinkled. ‘As Oscar Wilde said – “Women are made to be loved, not understood.” Perhaps he had a point.’
‘Well, by all accounts Wilde gave up on the fairer sex.’ I gave a wry smile. ‘Great writer though.’
‘Agreed. His collection of short stories is ace.’
‘The Happy Prince and Other Tales?’
Noah nodded and I studied him for a moment. Most people had only heard of The Importance of Being Earnest.
‘Anyway …’ he bowed his head ‘… glad to be of service.’ For a second his eyes lost their humorous twinkle. ‘Things will work out, Jenny,’ he said, softly. ‘Fate’s a funny thing. In weeks to come, you might look back on what’s happened and see it as fortuitous.’
My throat ached. I doubted that very much. However, I appreciated his attempt to make me feel better, with something of a profound statement. Elle entered the room and I gazed at them both.
‘I won’t ever see it as good luck. You see, my … marriage is over.’ Words like a punch to my stomach. For a whole week I’d not uttered them out loud. ‘My home is no longer my home. And we’re in financial trouble.’
Mustn’t cry again. Noah and Elle would think me pathetic. And I’m not – I’m a dynamic, charity-organising, domestic-juggling mother. I gulped. Yeah, right. Now that successful image lay in tatters. I opened my handbag and took out my phone. Say what you like about modern technology, mobiles proved a great distraction if you needed a moment.
I pretended to check my messages then slipped the device back into my bag and sat more upright.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
‘Sorry. Just having a wobbly day. Honestly. Leave me to wallow. You’ll have customers waiting.’ I sniffed. ‘I mean, worse things happen in life, as I know from my charity work. I have my health and a beautiful daughter. I can’t ask for more than that.’ I thought I’d had a perfect life until days ago. Locals must think the same. So it wouldn’t do, to be whimpering in public. Other people had far bigger problems, like … My eyes watered. I’d just lost my life partner. My future. My home.
Elle sat down next to me. ‘No point in comparing. We all have our own story. And it’s okay. The last
