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

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, gushing 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 student 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!’

He gazed at the floor. ‘Jenny – I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but like I’ve said … the marriage wasn’t something I’d planned.’ He looked up. ‘We’ve grown apart. You must have felt it, too. Please. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.’

‘Me make things difficult? I love how you’ve turned this around.’ I bit the insides of my cheeks. Never again would I give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. ‘We were happy, Zak,’ I said and my voice wavered. ‘Couldn’t keep our hands off each other in the beginning. Isn’t that spark still there? How can you be so robotic? Isn’t there an ounce of emotion in you for your wife of ten years?’

He stared at the floor again, where shortly afterwards my self-esteem joined his gaze.

‘When was the last time we talked?’ he said. ‘Really properly talked? Like we used to, at the beginning, sitting up till the small hours, arguing over stuff like who was the best UK fashion designer? The last few years, I don’t know, it’s felt like we’ve just been going through the motions.’

My breath caught in my throat because he’d voiced what I’d recently wondered, but hadn’t liked to admit. I slumped back into my chair. Zak sat down in his. ‘But … I mean … We never really … I always thought the chemistry was enough?’ I whispered, pulse thumping loudly in my ears.

Zak raised one eyebrow. ‘In your heart do you honestly think that?’

I stared at him.

Yes. No. I don’t know.

This was all new to me – questioning our relationship. ‘You really do like Chanelle, don’t you?’ I said, quietly. ‘It’s not just a physical thing.’

He nodded.

‘Maybe you’re right. I’ve thought about this too.’ And not just a bit, but night after night since he revealed his affair. ‘Especially at the beginning, life was busy; evenings we both just chilled in front of the telly, you exhausted after work, me relaxing from a day of nappies and feeds. But that’s normal, right? And April’s getting older now. Surely we can take more time for us and put things right?’

‘I’m sorry, Jenny. I just don’t think we’ve that much in common any more.’

‘We’ve got a daughter,’ I snapped. ‘All couples grow apart when bringing up kids. But we’ve got retirement ahead of us and –’

‘I’m not writing off my life until then!’

My stomach caved in as if he’d punched me square in the navel. ‘I’m sorry that’s how you’d see staying with me.’

‘It’s not enough,’ he muttered. ‘Not any more. Sorry, to be so honest but –’

‘Better late than never,’ I said, with a generous dose of sarcasm.

He sighed. ‘Look, I’m moving in with Chanelle tonight.’

My hand flew to my mouth. ‘Zak. No. Please not that. Don’t move in with them. Imagine how April will feel, knowing her dad is living with her best friend.’

‘April will get used to it.’

Oh God. This was like some twisted parallel universe.

‘At least do me this one thing, Zak. You owe me.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘Hold off moving in with Chanelle. Let April get used to our breakup first. You live here until the house is sold.’

‘Then you’ll stay?’

‘No,’ I said, in measured tones. ‘If you and I are really over then I can’t. I need to get away from this place.’

He thumped his fist on the table – some emotion, at last, yet a sign of the temper that had emerged since the passing of his mum. Zak’s eyes blazed. ‘You moving her out of here is going to be more of an upheaval than me moving in with Chanelle, what with April leaving her bedroom and everything familiar.’ He folded his arms. ‘Go if you must, but our daughter stays put.’

‘I’m not staying in this house a minute longer than necessary,’ I said, heart racing. ‘And neither is she. What’s the point? The house will be on the market as soon as possible, so she’d have to move out then anyway.’

Zak’s chair scraped back and he stood up. ‘You are making it very difficult for us to just sort all this out between ourselves. April should stay in her home with a parent who has a decent job.’

‘As you know, I have a job, thanks to Noah. It’s local. And it comes with accommodation. And I’m sure any court would be more sympathetic to the parent who had stayed loyal to the family unit. And your job could hardly be called decent if it’s based on a business that is on the brink of going bust.’

‘You barely know that Noah guy!’ shouted Zak. ‘I won’t allow it. He could be an axe murderer or …’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. The only way he could kill someone would be death by caffeine. There’s a lock on our door and it’s no different to renting a bedsit because, you know, that’s how ordinary people manage, Zak …’ My voice shook. ‘Not everyone lives in a mansion with more personal space than a moonwalker and alarmed doors with a direct hotline to the local police station.’

He snorted. ‘How would you know? I’ve provided you with a life of luxury. You’ll never manage on your own.’

My body tensed. It was one thing me thinking that. Quite another him being of the same opinion.

‘Don’t you dare judge me! I’ll manage just fine. As I’ve proven. It hardly took me long to find a job and accommodation.’

‘You can’t do this,’ he said, quietly.

‘I think you’ll find I can,’ I said, in tones more confident than I felt. ‘Don’t even think about trying to stop me. I mean it.’ I stared at him hard. ‘My work hours will be shorter than yours. I have an excellent case for being the hands-on parent. You’re always working late or entertaining. And you’ve got to let Dot go. Who will be around to look after April?’

‘Okay, then Chanelle and Skye can move into The Willows, temporarily, and perhaps with her income –’

I winced. ‘You’d really throw that on April, at this early stage?’

He paused and then said, ‘I’ll fight you on this, Jenny. Every inch of the way. You’d never beat me in court. I’ll beg or borrow, call in every favour owed to me, to hire a top solicitor. April will hate leaving her comforts behind. You’ll see. Give it a few days and she’ll be desperate to come back.’

‘I think you underestimate our girl,’ I said stiffly and left the summerhouse. ‘And I still think you’re deluded about just how much our circumstances have changed, so I’ve already started to look into her attending another school, next term. It’s been hard, but I’ve finally accepted she’ll have to leave her friends. Not now, though. It’s mid-term. Too disruptive. At least we’ve paid up until the end of this year.

Silence. I stopped and turned around. Zak stared at the lawn.

‘What?’ I asked.

Slowly, he looked up and ran a hand through his hair. ‘She’s got to leave as soon as possible,’ he muttered. ‘I … I’ve been putting off telling you. I hoped the school might change their minds, give me more time to –’

An icy sensation pierced my chest. ‘Zak? We have paid for this term, right?’

He bit his lip. ‘No. In fact …’ his face crumpled ‘… we’re two terms in arrears. Our chances have run out. April has to leave as soon as possible. The head’s been really generous about it, but she just can’t extend her goodwill any further.’

I gasped. ‘Zak! Why didn’t you tell me? Instead of sticking your head in the sand?’ Wasn’t I a good listener? Couldn’t he trust me with bad news? Did he really think me so fragile?

‘Guess I didn’t want to face the truth,’ he said. ‘And if I told you I’d have to.’

I shook my head. Stood open-mouthed. I had no words and turned back around.

My throat felt dry as I stalked across the garden, biting the insides of my cheeks again. I’d show Zak how I could provide for myself and for our daughter. And I’d sort out a new school, too. Yet a heavy, uncomfortable sensation weighed down my chest. I had niggling doubts as to how well April would settle into a new life. As a desperate last measure, I’d even tried to moot moving to Noah’s cottage as something of an adventure.

‘We’re really going to leave here, then? Leave Daddy? Leave my walk-in wardrobe and Dot?’ she’d said.

‘There’s a river at the bottom of the garden, sweetheart. And imagine living in a loft. You’ll be sleeping higher than Rapunzel.’

‘It’s more like the dwarves’ cottage in Snow White.’ She’d gulped. ‘Small. And it will stink of coffee.’

‘And of cake,’ I’d continued, in the same cheery tone. Yet it killed me to see her mouth pucker and those eyes fill.

‘It won’t smell as good as Dot’s baking.’ Tears had run down her face as she stamped her foot. ‘Why are you being so selfish, disagreeing with me and Daddy? Don’t you care what I want? I won’t do it! Go on your own. I’m not moving. You can’t make me!’

She’d stormed off to her room. I dreaded telling her that her home was going to be sold and belong to another family, so I’d held off. Perhaps that sick feeling inside was how Zak had felt about sharing bad news with me – but then I was an adult. My fears were based on April being a vulnerable, confused child. My knees had given way after she’d left and I’d collapsed onto the lounge floor. Head in my hands, the sound of my muffled sobs was almost as loud as the rapid beat of my heart. I recognised her anger for what it really was – pure, unadulterated hurt caused by the adulterous acts of her dad. The hurt at leaving behind Zak and the trappings of our extravagant, familiar life.

Would she ever adapt? Could she and I really pen a new life map? Or would her tears water an ever-growing need in her to return to the spoilt existence we’d both enjoyed before? Could I manage a budget? Could I still succeed in being the best mum I could be, without money? The answer should have been a no-nonsense ‘yes’ but doubting voices niggled my conscience, voices that knew I was scared of the unknown.