The Single Mums’ Picnic Club: A perfectly uplifting beach-read for 2018!

George wished she was. It would have made her job much easier. ‘I’m afraid not.’

‘Well, something has put a smile on your face.’ Cecily wrapped her hands around the mug of coffee in front of her and winked at George. ‘And it’s something more than Barry Manilow.’

Grabbing her caddy of cleaning products, George called out a hasty goodbye before she practically threw herself out of the house. The cold air helped to control her burning cheeks as she scurried away. She was horrified at the knowledge Cecily had heard her warbling along to her playlist, but the truth was, she did have a spring in her step that morning as she would be meeting Frankie and Katie at the beach hut for their picnic lunch. George adored picnics; her granny used to make the best picnics when George was little and she’d inherited the knack of putting together delicious packages of food (even if the only judges of her talents were herself and Thomas of late). George loved creating dishes and treats in the kitchen, and the kitchen in her flat was surprisingly roomy considering how poky the other rooms were. She’d started the picnic preparations early that morning, rising before Thomas as she wanted it to be perfect. She’d already made honey and mustard seafood kebabs, spicy mustard chicken wings, and a potato salad with a lemon and herb dressing, which were all chilling in the fridge, and she’d defrosted a batch of homemade sausage rolls leftover from Christmas. She’d also baked her favourite lemon drizzle cupcakes, which had been cooling on the side while she worked and would now be ready to be topped with her lemon syrup and zest mixture. Once the cakes were completed, she’d make some simple sandwiches and prepare a salad.

She may have gone slightly overboard for an afternoon meet up, but it wasn’t often she was given the opportunity to spread her foodie wings.

George didn’t have a picnic basket like the one she remembered her grandmother using to transport their picnics down to the beach hut on Saturday afternoons, so she loaded the food into a large tote, remembering to add paper plates, plastic cups and packs of wet wipes and serviettes. She’d been chilling a bottle of sparkling apple- and blackberry-flavoured water in the fridge, and she wedged it down the side of the tubs of food in the bag now before rolling up the throw from the back of the sofa to use as a picnic blanket. It was still chilly out, but at least it hadn’t rained for a few days, so she hoped the sand would be relatively dry.

George emitted a small yelp when she realised she was running late. Tucking the throw under her arm and slinging the tote bag over her shoulder (and listing to one side under its weight), she hurried out of the flat and down to the row of beach huts, raising her hand in greeting when she spotted the others already waiting outside her mint green hut.

‘Sorry I’m late.’ George was out of breath. She placed the tote bag and blanket down on the sand before thumping a hand down on her waist, sucking in air and puffing it back out again. Little clouds formed on the exhales, but George wasn’t cold after scurrying down to the beach so quickly.

‘Wow, is all that our picnic?’ Frankie peered at the overstuffed bag. ‘I was expecting a sandwich and a can of coke.’

George, still panting, grinned. ‘The Pappas family are famous for their picnics.’ She gave a wheezy laugh. ‘At least among my granny and I. Granny Pappas’ picnics were legendary as far as I’m concerned.’ She grabbed the throw and tote now she was starting to get her breath back. ‘I hope you’re hungry.’

‘I am.’ Katie pressed a hand to her stomach. ‘I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had the chance to sit down all morning. Breakfast wasn’t even an option.’

George gave a tsk. ‘You know what they say – breakfast is the most important meal of the day.’

Katie nodded as she helped to shake out the throw. It billowed for a moment before landing gracefully onto the sand. ‘I know, but I had an interview this morning, and obviously I couldn’t find a smart enough top that was clean. I don’t know how I used to manage going into the office full-time. My brain’s turned to mush.’

‘How did the interview go?’ Frankie asked, and Katie scrunched up her nose.

‘I know I should remain positive, but…’

Frankie rubbed her arm. ‘I bet it went better than you thought it did. When do you find out?’

‘They said they had a few more candidates to see, and that they’d let me know within a few days. I’m really not confident though.’

‘Well, come and sit down.’ George knelt down on the blanket and patted the space beside her to encourage Katie to do the same. ‘You’re to do nothing but eat, drink and relax for the next hour, okay? No worrying or fretting. What will be will be.’

‘You don’t need to tell me twice.’ Katie plonked herself down on the picnic blanket and helped George to pluck the containers of food from the tote bag.

‘There’s enough here to feed an army,’ Frankie said after container after container was removed from the bag and placed on the blanket.

‘Luckily, I’m as hungry as an entire army.’ Katie placed the final container on the blanket while George pulled out the bottle of sparkling flavoured water.

‘Dig in!’ George indicated the array of tubs before she started to pour the drinks. She could feel herself glowing from within as food was tasted and murmurs of appreciation filled their little space.

‘This is amazing.’ Katie held up a skewer, stripped of all but the final honey and mustard prawn. ‘Do you cook for a living?’

George shook her head, her cheeks warming at the compliment. ‘I’m a cleaner. But I did used to be in charge of the kitchen of a teashop, years and years ago. And I’d been to catering college before that.’

‘What made you give it up?’ Katie pulled the prawn off the skewer and popped it into her mouth, closing her eyes to savour the flavours.

‘It was only supposed to be temporary. I loved my job but when my granny got ill and needed help in her haberdashery shop, I had to step in.’ George shrugged. ‘I knew nothing about haberdashery, but my granny’s shop meant the world to her. She left it to me when she died, but she never wanted me to run it myself. I was supposed to sell up and follow my own dreams. Which I did, just not the dream my granny was thinking of at the time.’

Frankie helped herself to the potato salad, forking a generous helping onto her plate. ‘What was your dream?’

George opened the zip of her coat slightly. They may have been enjoying a picnic on the beach, but a coat was still necessary. ‘I wanted to run my own catering business. I loved my job at the teashop, but I wanted something that was mine, that I could really put my heart and soul into.’ She smiled and gave a little sigh. ‘But then I suppose I achieved all of that anyway.’

Katie popped a couple of the chicken wings onto her plate and started to attack one immediately. ‘What did you do instead?’

George could feel the corners of her mouth tugging into a full-on beam and she didn’t fight it. ‘I had Thomas.’ She placed a plastic cup of sparkling water in front of Katie before filling another for Frankie. ‘I always meant to start up my own business after I’d sold the shop, but other things kept getting in the way, like buying my first house and planning a wedding. I was with my fiancé for nine years, and we’d always planned on having children – when the time was right. Except the time was never right for him. I reached the age of thirty, then thirty-five, and he still kept saying one day… Until one day, a few months before the wedding, he dropped the bombshell that he’d changed his mind. He liked the way his life was. Liked the freedom.’ She sighed. ‘He didn’t want children after all. It came between us in the end – there’s no compromise in that situation – and we split up. We sold our house and went our separate ways. I couldn’t waste any more time finding the perfect man again – and, if I’m honest, I couldn’t face looking – so I finally used my granny’s money to fund three rounds of IVF.’

‘Wow.’ Frankie accepted the cup of sparkling water from George. ‘That was a brave decision.’

There was that glow again, warming George up from the inside.

‘So it really is just the two of you,’ Katie said. ‘That must be tough.’

George poured herself a drink. ‘None of us have it easy.’ She looked from Katie, who was finding her feet as a single mum after all these years to Frankie, who had somehow pulled herself together after the death of her partner to raise twins all by herself.

Katie nodded. ‘I guess we have that in common.’

‘It’s good that we can learn from each other,’ George said, but Katie sniggered.

‘I wouldn’t hold your breath on learning anything from me. I’m barely treading water here.’

‘I’m sure that isn’t true,’ Frankie said. ‘You’ve got further in this parenting thing than the two of us combined.’

George raised her hand. ‘I actually have a question for you, Katie.’ She dropped her gaze to the blanket and fiddled with the fringed edging. ‘Does it get easier dropping them off at school? Because it’s killing me at the moment. I want to cling onto Thomas and run all the way home with him.’

Frankie bobbed her head up and down. ‘I’m the same with Finn. Skye’s fine – she’s Miss Independent and walks away without a backwards glance, but my poor boy… It breaks my heart having to leave him at nursery.’

‘Oh, don’t worry.’ Katie took a sip of her drink to mask a smile. ‘It gets easier, believe me.’

‘Really?’ George’s eyes were wide, pleading.

‘Believe me. Give it time and you’ll be counting down the hours until you drop them off again. And don’t get me started on the school holidays…’

George wasn’t sure whether to take comfort from needing a time out from her son or not, but surely it was better than the anguish she felt every morning as Thomas disappeared into the school.

‘I’ve got one for you, George.’ Katie shifted into a more comfortable position. ‘You’ve been single for a while, right?’ George nodded while mentally preparing herself to impart wisdom onto her new friend. ‘Do you ever stop missing the sex?’

Chapter Nine

Frankie

The three women learned a lot about each other as they chatted over the picnic. Katie was thirty-eight (so close to forty – how the hell did that happen and why didn’t anyone warn her that it crept up so quickly?), an unemployed (but not unemployable, George insisted when Katie suggested so) bookkeeper, and she’d lived in Clifton-on-Sea since her parents moved into their house close to the harbour when she was seven.

‘I rent the house out as a holiday let at the moment,’ Katie told her new friends. ‘But it looks like I’m going to have to sell it and give half the proceeds to Rob.’

Frankie gasped. ‘Can he make you do that?’

Katie nodded. ‘Apparently so, unless I can buy him out, which I can’t.’

‘That really sucks.’ Frankie frowned. ‘I’m so sorry.’

George was the oldest of the trio at forty-three. She’d been single for the past seven years and was happy enough with the status quo. Her time for romance had passed (nonsense, the others had insisted, but George had simply shrugged and taken a bite out of a lemon drizzle cupcake. And yes, she’d broken the news to Katie, you did stop missing the sex, though George still sometimes craved the closeness of a partner). George had been born in Clifton-on-Sea (in the front bedroom of the flat above her paternal grandmother’s haberdashery shop near the station, to be exact. She’d taken fifty-two hours and the use of forceps to be born and George’s father had said he hadn’t been able to look at a pair salad tongs in the same way since. George was ninety-nine percent sure he was kidding).

Frankie, the youngest of the women at thirty-three, was a freelance brand designer. She loved her work, even if she was struggling to keep up with her projects after a sluggish couple of weeks modelling blobs of playdough, finger-painting and watching CBeebies with the twins. Frankie had moved to Clifton-on-Sea a year ago for a fresh start, away from the painful memories of Bradley’s death.

‘Bradley killed himself.’ It was still so hard to say the words out loud, but she wanted to get it out there, in the beginning, so she didn’t feel like she was keeping a shameful secret from her new friends. ‘The twins were just a few weeks old. I had no idea he was feeling suicidal or depressed. He was tired a lot of the time, but we were both being kept awake during the night with the twins, and he started snapping at tiny little things, but we were both stressed.’

‘Who wouldn’t be in your situation?’ George lay a comforting hand on Frankie’s arm.

‘It all got too much in the end, being back home. Living in the house we’d shared, being surrounded by our things. Seeing the place where it happened.’ Frankie cleared her throat. ‘So I decided to have a little break. My younger brother had just moved here for work and I ended up falling in love with the town.’

She looked out to sea, where grey clouds were brewing, but it didn’t spoil the view. Clifton-on-Sea was the perfect place to raise her children, with the beach within walking distance of their home, and although she sometimes felt guilty about moving away from her childhood town and leaving her mum behind, she and the twins needed this quaint little town to heal.

‘I’ve tried to get Mum to move here, so she’ll be closer to me, Isaac and the twins, but she’s too stubborn for her own good.’

‘Is Isaac your brother?’ Katie asked, and Frankie nodded while she munched on her cupcake. She was no longer hungry, but nibbling the soft sponge gave her something else to concentrate on, something to keep the tears at bay.

‘He’s my stepbrother, actually, but we never use the step word usually, and he has an amazing relationship with Mum. The twins adore him. He’s the closest thing they’ll ever have to a father figure.’

George gave her a knee a pat. ‘I can totally empathise. But you never know what the future will bring. Maybe one day…’

Frankie almost choked on her cupcake, and she shook her head emphatically until she could speak. ‘Nah. I’m content with being single. I have no plans to start dating again. Although…’

‘Yes?’ Katie’s ears pricked up, and she leaned in towards Frankie.

‘I sort of ran into that guy from yesterday on the way here. You know the one with the dog?’

George pursed her lips. ‘How could we forget?’

‘Anyway, I ran into him – not literally. There were no injuries this time – and he remembered me. Asked how my knee was.’ Her hand rubbed at the knee, even though it hadn’t caused any problems once she’d rested it. There was a bit of bruising, but nothing major.

‘Then what happened?’ George asked.

Katie’s eyes gleamed. ‘Did he ask you out?’

Frankie shook her head. ‘No, nothing like that. In fact, he had to run off because the dog slipped his lead again and was heading for a little old man with a walking stick.’ She placed the palms of her hands on her cheeks. ‘But he’s sort of cute, isn’t he?’

‘Sort of?’ George tutted. ‘The man’s bloody gorgeous. You need to get hold of his number.’

Frankie shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t know how to anymore. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the dating game.’

‘Me too.’ Katie grabbed a second lemon drizzle cupcake and tore the wrapper from the sponge. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to face it again.’

‘I’m sure you will, when you’re ready.’ George reached across to give Katie’s knee a pat too. ‘You’ve been through a lot. You’re bound to feel jaded by it all.’

‘Jaded is an understatement,’ Katie grumbled. ‘Scarred for life would be more accurate.’ Her phone started to vibrate from within her handbag, and she groaned when she saw the name on the display. She shot an apologetic look at her new friends as she shuffled away from the blanket to answer the call.

‘I’d better get going soon,’ Frankie said as the phone call behind her started to heat up. ‘I’ve got a deadline coming up, so I need to get back to work.’

‘I need to leave soon too.’ George started to clip the lids back down on the food containers. ‘I’m cleaning for a new client this afternoon and I need to drop the picnic bits and bobs back at home and grab my kit. I’m a bit nervous, actually.’ She pressed a hand to her stomach. ‘I was personally recommended by one of my other clients, so I don’t want to let her down.’

‘You’ll be great.’ Frankie rested a hand on George’s arm. ‘If you clean half as well as you cook, you won’t have anything to worry about at all.’

George beamed at her. ‘Thank you. That’s so kind of you to say that.’

Frankie shrugged. ‘It’s true. This is – hands down – the best picnic I’ve ever been to.’

George laughed and gave a wave of her hand. ‘Stop it now, you’re making me blush.’

‘Sorry, but it really is.’ Frankie shrugged again before she helped George to pack up. Only the blanket was remaining by the time Katie returned with a heavy sigh.

‘Everything okay?’ George asked as she lifted two corners of the blanket and gave it a rigorous shake to rid it of sand.

Katie rolled her eyes. ‘Just the ex.’ She grabbed the opposite corners of the blanket and helped George to fold it. ‘As if I don’t know I have to file the acknowledgement of service. I’m not an imbecile.’

George rolled the blanket and tucked it under her arm. ‘But you haven’t done it yet?’

Katie shook her head. ‘I was going to, but…’ She sighed. ‘It sounds really childish saying it out loud, but it’s the one bit of power I have in all this, and I can’t seem to relinquish it. Signing that form, agreeing to this thing, it makes me feel sick.’

‘It must be so difficult.’ George draped an arm around Katie’s shoulders. ‘You were together a long time.’

‘It sounds like he treated you like dirt to me,’ Frankie said. ‘And now he’s pressuring you?’

Katie fiddled with the wedding band she still wore. ‘I have been dragging my feet with this…’

Frankie folded her arms across her chest. ‘So what? It’s nothing less than he deserves. Why should it all be on his terms?’

Katie nodded, but she didn’t look convinced and continued to slide her thumb back and forth across the back of her wedding ring.

‘You must do what’s best for you.’ George gave her shoulder a brief squeeze. ‘You never know, you may feel empowered by signing it. You’re letting him go and forging ahead on a new and brighter future.’

Katie shoved her hands deep into her coat pockets. ‘It doesn’t feel like it.’

George patted her arm lightly. ‘It will, one day. You’ll see.’ She picked up the tote bag and hooked it onto her shoulder. ‘I should be going, but it’s been lovely meeting up with you ladies this afternoon.’

‘It has.’ Frankie hadn’t realised how isolated she’d felt since choosing to go freelance and working from home. ‘We should do this again.’

‘I’ll bring the picnic next time.’ Katie pulled a face. ‘Since I put away most of it.’

George tsked. ‘You did not. We all had our fair share. Besides, there was plenty to go around. I can’t help going overboard with food.’

Katie laughed. ‘Feel free to go overboard again. You’ll get no complaints from me.’

Frankie held up her hands. ‘I wouldn’t dream of grumbling.’ She zipped her coat up fully so it reached her chin. ‘Should we swap numbers, so we can arrange times and places?’

‘Good idea.’ George reached into her pocket for her phone, and Frankie and Katie did the same, each saving the contact information for the other two.

George lifted a hand in farewell as they parted ways on the promenade. ‘See you next time. I’m looking forward to it already!’

Frankie was too.

Chapter Ten

Katie

Perhaps George was right, and she’d feel empowered by signing the acknowledgement of service. She’d be taking back power, signing that form because she wanted a clean slate. She didn’t have to view the divorce as the end of the life she’d built with Rob over the past twenty-four years; she really should look at it as a new start for her.

She was feeling so motivated – so inspired – by the time she emerged at the top of the steps leading up to the promenade that she could almost feel the pen in her hand as she envisioned signing the form. And she probably would have done it, would have gone straight out and posted the damn thing, if she hadn’t stumbled upon Jack, his hair sticking up in little peaks where he’d been running his fingers through it, pacing up and down in front of his van.

‘I’ll be there as soon as I can, Mrs Hornchurch. Have you managed to find the stopcock? And you’ve turned it off? Excellent. Like I said, I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ Jack ended the call and threw back his head, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

‘Everything okay?’ Katie could have kicked herself. Of course everything wasn’t okay. This was not the pose of a man whose life was currently hunky dory. ‘Anything I can do to help?’

Jack opened his eyes and pressed the palms of his hands together. ‘Is there any chance you have secret plumbing skills?’

Katie barked out a laugh. ‘As if. But you do, so what’s the problem?’

‘The pipes behind Mrs Hornchurch’s kitchen units, apparently.’ Jack opened the van’s door and unclasped his daughter from her car seat. ‘Her kitchen’s flooded, and it seems to be coming from behind her crockery cupboard. She’s phoned five plumbers so far, but nobody’s free until at least seven this evening. She sounds like a sweet old lady, and I don’t want to say no, but I have Vevie this afternoon. The childminder isn’t well and Anita – my ex-wife – can’t get out of work. I didn’t have any bookings this afternoon, so it didn’t really matter until Mrs Hornchurch called in a flap.’ He lifted his daughter from the van and rested her on his hip. ‘I’ve tried my mum and sister, but neither can get away…’ His phone started to ring from his jeans pocket, and he closed his eyes briefly after seeing the caller details. ‘It’s Mrs Hornchurch again.’

Katie lifted her hand up as his thumb hovered over the answer button. ‘Wait! I’ll do it!’

Jack frowned at Katie. ‘You’ll find what’s causing Mrs Hornchurch’s leak and repair it?’

Katie tutted and took the child from his arms. ‘No, you great dumpling. I’ll look after Vevie while you go and do all that plumber stuff.’

Jack’s thumb was still hovering over the answer button. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course. We’ll have fun, won’t we, sweetie?’ Katie stuck her tongue out at the little girl and she giggled as though it was the funniest thing ever. ‘See?’

Jack’s gaze flicked briefly to the screen of his phone. ‘I could be gone a while.’

Katie shrugged. ‘That’s fine.’

‘And Leo and Ellie…’

‘I think I can just about remember the way to the school.’ She pointed at the still-ringing phone. ‘Just make sure you give the school a quick call to let them know it’ll be me picking them up.’

‘Will do. You’re a star.’ Jack grinned at her before he accepted the call. ‘Mrs Hornchurch? Good news…’

‘I am a star,’ Katie whispered to the little girl, and she giggled again. This was the easiest gig Katie had ever had. If only Elliot and Lizzie were still so easily amused. ‘Shall we go inside? It’s a bit nippy out here, isn’t it?’

Jack popped into the house once he’d delivered the good news to Mrs Hornchurch, so he could drop off the buggy, the nappy changing bag, and a lidded beaker, and to say goodbye to his daughter and thank Katie – repeatedly.

Katie and her temporary charge spent the afternoon colouring (or rather, Katie coloured while trying to prevent the toddler from snacking on the crayons), playing music with impromptu instruments Katie found around the house (a couple of saucepans and a wooden spoon and plastic ladle for beaters), and finishing off with a bit of CBeebies. Soon it was time to get bundled up in hats and coats and head to school, and it was only as they passed the post box halfway there that she remembered the acknowledgement of service, which was still to be signed.

It seemed like a million years ago that she’d walked through the school gates of Southcliff Primary, but the school hadn’t changed much over the past couple of years, apart from a new wooden play area in the early years’ section of the playground and a brightly painted mural at the entrance. Katie made her way to the doors where the reception children would file out, joining the group waiting for their charges. The teacher stepped out of the door, keeping it open with his shoulder as he called out the names of the children whose parent or caregiver were waiting to collect them. Katie held back, waiting until he’d stopped calling out names until she stepped forward.