The New Beginnings Coffee Club: The feel-good, heartwarming read from bestselling author Samantha Tonge

I could hardly breathe.

‘So exactly long have you been shagging my best friend?’

Zak covered his face with his hands.

‘Tell me!’ I shouted, voice shaking. I didn’t do shouting. Not even when April was her most disobedient. But suddenly I had no control over my body, including my voice.

‘Why her?’ My arms shook as violently as my words. ‘Don’t you …’ My voice wavered. ‘Don’t you fancy me any more?’

Did Zak prefer her firm, round fake boobs? Her tumbling Baywatch hair? Could she make him moan with satisfaction and make him huskily drawl her name? My eyes pricked. He’d been my only lover. Was it inevitable that one day he’d want a woman who knew more than what he’d taught me?

All of a sudden I felt nineteen again. I stepped forwards and peeled his hands away from that heartbreaker face.

‘Why her?’ I asked again.

‘Don’t do this to yourself,’ he muttered.

‘Oh, don’t pretend you give one fig about my feelings. You’re a coward; that’s the problem. Too weak to give me a proper answer.’ I was amazed my words were coherent since my throat felt as if it was disintegrating, it hurt so much.

This wasn’t happening. Zak wasn’t a coward. I loved him. We were each other’s soul mates. I wanted to curl up into a tight ball and block out all the confusion running through my head. The hows, whens, and what ifs … The this isn’t possibles …

‘You really want to know?’ he said and threw his hands in the air. ‘Okay. You asked. Me and Chanelle … we laugh. Really laugh, you know? And talk business. She’s dynamic and –’

‘But I run Elite Eleganz’s charity projects. The house. Our lives. Don’t you dare dismiss that as if it doesn’t count!’

‘But you don’t take risks, Jenny,’ he shouted back. ‘You’ve been handed a cushy life on a plate and been glad just to eat off it, without hunting out your own food. When was the last time you put your reputation on the line or made a dream become a reality?’

‘Our family life was my dream.’ My voice faltered.

‘More like a comfort blanket.’

Blinking rapidly, I stared at him through the darkness.

‘Chanelle and me … we share that spark of ambition, to make money. You …’ His voice suddenly softened. ‘Oh, Jenny … you’re just a housewife. And it’s not enough any more.’

A cold, suffocating sensation engulfed my body and extinguished the fire in my belly. I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. Unable to compute. Just a housewife? Just the person who’d lovingly created a secure family life based on the routines and cuddles and family outings intended to strengthen the bonds between us and our beloved child?

With an animalistic sob, I turned and stumbled through the night, his desperate, backtracking apologies going in one ear and out other. No physical weapon could have caused a deeper wound than those words. He’d reduced my life’s work – he’d reduced me – to nothing at all.

Chapter Three

I waved at April who stood on the white tiled bank, at the other end of the pool, queuing up with children to slide across a giant spaceship inflatable. After a deep breath, I ducked under the water and opened my eyes as I swam hard, avoiding a maze of bare legs that looked distinctly pale compared to the golden, airbrushed ones at the private fitness club.

The isolated, ethereal sensation reminded me of making love to Zak – the heady feeling that I’d left this physical earth and was tumbling through a black hole of pleasure. With my feet, I gave a determined push and shot up from the pool’s rough bottom. Cold air hit my cheeks and I gulped it in, like reality. Me. Zak. Chanelle. The love triangle I never saw coming. How could I have been so stupid?

It was Sunday and one week on from that meal out and the revelations in the park. I was trying to make swimming a regular thing. Cheap activities would be the order of the day from now on, seeing as Elite Eleganz was at risk of going bust. It was going to take a bit of getting used to – thinking twice before I took out my credit card or went to the cash machine.

I bobbed up and down in the water and stared vacantly at the big wall tiles. I’d texted Chanelle last week. Said I knew. Insisted we meet up. She’d refused. I should have known – a traitor and coward to boot. Zak told me not to contact her again. Tears welled in my eyes at the protective tone in his words.

Of course, it all made sense now. My mind computed. Christmas. The vouchers he’d bought me instead of the usual expensive present. February … he’d forgotten Valentine’s Day for the first time ever. Or had he? Chanelle hadn’t been able to hold back her excitement at receiving red roses from a so-called secret admirer. Easter. A lump formed in my throat. We’d simply argued over whether to buy April a rabbit. I’d said no, she had enough responsibility looking after her guinea pigs.

In fact, April had surprised me. Chanelle said that if my daughter was anything like Skye and the other girls, she would lose interest after a couple of weeks. But she hadn’t. Always fed them. Cleaned their hutch out regularly.

I squeezed my eyes shut and swam a width of the pool. Six months he and Chanelle had been together. For six months he hadn’t seen me as the sexy woman in his life. I’d simply been the mother of his child. The entertainer of his guests. The company’s charity organiser. And worse revelations had followed. I recalled a conversation we’d had on the Monday afterwards.

‘I still don’t get it,’ I’d said. ‘Wasn’t this what you wanted? The whole domestic set-up – marriage and children? All that’s missing is a white picket fence.’

‘All I ever wanted was you, Jen. Of course I adore April, but kids, nappies, parents’ evenings … At that time it had never been part of my plan.’

‘But you seemed so happy.’ I gulped, heart squeezing so tight. ‘Proposed straightaway …’

‘Yes. Because I was in love with you. It was all about you, baby.’ His eyes had gone all shiny. ‘Your crazy dress sense. The excitement when you’d designed an outfit you thought might one day sell. And …’ His shoulders jigged up and down. ‘I’ve been brought up to do the right thing. So marriage was inevitable.’

‘You married me out of some sense of duty?’

Silence.

I swore my heart actually broke in two. All these years I’d been trying to mould myself into a new Jenny that fitted in when he’d actually wanted the original version of me …

Without warning, tears streamed down my cheeks and I bobbed under the water to rinse away the proof of my hurt. On resurfacing I focused and passed a football to a child who had misaimed.

April still didn’t know. I’d persuaded Zak to hold off telling her – and to convince Chanelle not to break the news to Skye. Nor did I tell anyone else. That would make it feel real. For the first few days I’d managed to get through in a bubble of hope that Zak would change his mind, if only for April’s sake. But by Wednesday that bubble burst as he made it clear his future wasn’t with me. Yet he seemed to nurture this desperate, fantastical idea that somehow April and I could stay on at The Willows. Perhaps that eased a guilty conscience.

‘Are you crazy? I may not be a financial whiz, but even I can see we need to sell this place and fast. Not that I could ever live here again,’ I’d snapped. ‘It represents everything you hold in disdain: a happy, stable family life.’

I shook myself and wished I could stop dissecting every conversation of the last week.

With a brighter than bright smile I waved to April. We left the pool. Headed home. No, wait, not home. I couldn’t use that word any more.

I dropped April off for the traditional roast and because Zak had agreed to help her with maths homework. Then I drove into Laventon. It was April’s health-mad teacher’s birthday tomorrow and apparently The Coffee Club’s pecan brownies were her one and only vice, so April wanted to take some in. Buying gifts had been a given in my luxurious past. Perhaps now I’d have to turn into one of those mums who … I don’t know … thriftily handcrafted gifts out of food packaging or old clothes. My stomach twisted. Would I be up to the challenge?

I parked up my Mini in the village’s council car park and checked my reflection in the rear-view mirror. My hair hung in wild chlorine curls and the sunlight caught my foundation-free freckles. Would anyone else notice my swollen eyelids? After a deep breath, I got out of the car and grabbed my mock snakeskin handbag that looked out of place with my faded jeans. Not faded through wear, of course. It was a designer fashion thing. I’d never so much as darned a sock or resewn a button, in the last ten years. Nor struggled to get stains out of clothes. Anything less than perfect had just gone straight in the bin.

Wishing I’d worn a cool skirt instead, I headed down the cobbled street and veered to the right to avoid an over-friendly terrier that belonged to the tailor who altered Zak’s Italian suits. I pushed open the glass door of The Coffee Club and saw Noah behind the counter, in front of a wall filled with jars and jars of beans of all different varieties. The pale turquoise walls emanated a sense of calm, punctuated with minimalist paintings of cups with saucers. Modern white tables complemented a big silver coffee machine behind the shiny glass counter. Yet a homely feel came from random shelves filled with novels for customers to borrow, plus cheerful vases of flowers.

I fiddled with my watchstrap as I headed over. It had been challenging chatting with people all week and pretending everything was fine. Noah looked up. He gave one of his cheerful smiles and yawned. My eyes scanned his torso and the bare forearms made visible by rolled up shirtsleeves. He wasn’t as tall as Zak, but he was more muscly.

I approached and focused on the smooth skin and smattering of blonde hairs. Arms strong enough to build an ark? I had seen him go into the local church last Monday evening, when I’d been out for a mind-clearing walk. Perhaps his biblical name wasn’t random but chosen especially by religious parents.

I breathed in the aroma of caffeine. It felt comforting. I forced a cheery hello, despite thinking I didn’t belong on any ark as I was no longer part of a pair. Again Noah yawned.

‘Busy morning?’ I said and cleared my throat.

Noah ran a hand through his fudge-coloured, choppy hair. ‘You can say that again. The weekend morning crowd have ordered countless toasted teacakes and big lattes. We really need to get in some help. I’m catching up with some cleaning now it’s the post-lunch lull.’ He jerked his head towards the window. ‘Lovely again today. Looks like early summer is here.’ He paused. ‘They suit you.’

‘Huh?’ I said distractedly and turned back around.

‘Those curls. Very Madame Bovary.’

I eyed him curiously. A literary reference? Zak always said my curls were very ‘Carrie’ out of Sex and the City – a programme he’d been force-fed by a previous girlfriend.

‘Hmm,’ I replied. ‘Now that’s quite a tale about marriage.’

‘Noah’s right. They look great,’ cut in a female voice, somewhat deeper than mine. Elle appeared. She was a tall woman with a handsome face and strong features. She had a thin, black ponytail and wore a denim skirt with a baggy white blouse. I’d always thought that her feminine, fashionable name didn’t quite match her unfussy appearance. I’d asked her once if her family came from France but Noah had interrupted by teasing Elle about the idea that she came from swanky Paris.

In fact, I knew practically zero about either Elle or Noah. Nothing unusual in that, but this was Laventon, where every villager knew that Postie was currently seeking a divorce and dipping his toe into online dating, and that Mrs Carlton from the corner shop was about to adopt a rescue cat and had finally been given effective medicine for her arthritis.

‘I’d kill for a few waves but my hair is naturally straighter than the crease in Martini’s slacks,’ said Elle.

Jane Martin, known to all as Martini after her favourite drink, cleaned the cottage attached to the coffee shop, where Noah and Elle lived. I knew her a little from the Elite Eleganz’s charity events I ran locally. Pets. Grandchildren. Knitting. That was her life. I have to admit, like the rest of the village, I’d tried to work out Noah and Elle’s relationship. At the last charity auction, I’d asked Martini if they were an item and she’d pleaded ignorance.

‘Noah, there’s a sandwich waiting for you out the back,’ said Elle. ‘It’s all I could manage to put together. But Martini popped in with a casserole for tonight.’

‘Give that woman a medal. She’s a godsend.’ He smiled at me. ‘Elle bakes the tastiest muffins, but when it comes to cooking savoury meals her best shot is a Pot Noodle.’

Playfully she punched his arm. My eyes tingled. Dot did the cooking in our house. Perhaps if I’d been a better cook or housekeeper, then Zak wouldn’t have …

I sighed, tired of the negative narrative that had occupied my head since I’d found out about my husband’s affair.

‘Ow!’ he said and mock-glared ‘You don’t know your own strength!’

‘What about your culinary skills?’ I said, in as steady a voice as I could muster. Seeing their friendly banter reminded me of the way Zak and I used to be.

‘Even worse.’ Noah pulled a face. ‘Elle and I take it in turns to cook. I like to think I can rustle up a mean toasted panini but there’s a reason I set up a coffee shop and not a restaurant.’

They grinned at each other. ‘I’ll grab my sandwich later. First I want to do a quick stock-take. We had a run on caramel syrup this morning. And those small biscotti are proving a hit on Sundays with the diet-conscious customers saving themselves for their lunch.’ His shoulders bobbed up and down. ‘Are you stopping, Jenny?’

‘What? Oh … um, I just came in to pick up some of your pecan brownies. It’s April’s teacher’s birthday tomorrow. Apparently they are her favourite.’

‘Makes a change from taking an apple, I guess,’ said Elle and grinned.

My eyes pricked. If 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 two customers just left and I’ve closed up for a moment. The post-lunch lull will probably last another half an hour. Perhaps your friend could offer support? Talk things through. You know, the blonde lady I see you with.’

I controlled an irrational urge to laugh. Instead my voice cracked. ‘Yes. So that she could tell me all about how she’s been shagging my husband for the last six months …’

‘Oh, Jenny, no …’ Elle’s large hand covered mine.

Noah’s face turned red. ‘You had no idea?’

Somehow I managed to shake my head from side to side without releasing more tears.

He pursed his lips and muttered something about people not knowing when they were well off.

‘Is there no going back?’ said Elle, softly.

‘No. I hoped for a few days, but I can see now that his loyalty to her is unwavering. Apparently marrying me was one big mistake – always had been.’ I gave a loud sniff. I had to stay strong for April.

‘What will you do?’ she said.

I bit my thumbnail. ‘At first I didn’t know. The beginning of the week passed in a daze. Zak will hardly discuss the situation.’ I sighed. ‘He was just like this when his mum died last year.’ He’d thrown himself into arranging the funeral and even afterwards hardly spoke about his feelings, bottling it all up. Eventually it came out as anger. He got into a fight in a bar, over a football match, and threw a punch. And the last time I’d visited him at work staff tiptoed around him as if waiting for him to explode.

‘He’s just moved into a guest room,’ I continued. ‘Elite Eleganz has been mad busy with a last-ditch online promotion that ends today. Zak says we’ll discuss things properly tonight, when April is in bed.’ I said the word discuss in a hopeful tone. If the ball of anger spinning faster and faster in my chest with every passing day was anything to go by, it looked like a full-blown shouting match was the more likely outcome.

‘What I do know is that I can never live in that house again. All the memories – they seem fake now.’ I couldn’t believe I was telling them all this but it felt like such a relief to share what had happened and they both had such … such understanding expressions. Perhaps that’s what made a good barista – the ability to make people feel relaxed, and to create an atmosphere that made the coffee shop seem like a refuge from the world’s worries.

I stood up and paced, admiring the cosy aura of the kitchen. I wondered how much of it was down to Martini, with the decorative wall plates and warm peach curtains. And that knitted tea cosy had to be made by her. Although the shelf filled with books was perhaps down to Noah – P. G. Wodehouse, James Patterson, Lee Child, among children’s classics and self-help books. An eclectic choice to say the least. The room was tiny compared to our kitchen at The Willows. My chest tightened with the growing realisation that my day-to-day life would have to change, now that saving money was a priority.