The Vintage Teacup Club (33 page)

‘Aren’t we all?’ Jenny added, laughing.

‘That’s what I’m hoping,’ Jamie said, then added in a stage whisper. ‘On another note, have you seen those two?’ he said, pointing out into the garden where Maggie and Owen had snuck out and were kissing up against the wall. ‘I nearly had to wrench them apart to get a hello,’ Jamie said, laughing. ‘They’re really into each other, aren’t they?’

‘Oh yes. Something tells me they might be in this for the long haul,’ Alison said, smiling.

‘Jamie,’ Pete said, turning to face them, ‘Dan was just asking about …’

As the men got caught up in conversation, Jenny whispered in Alison’s ear, ‘Maggie told me her news. It’s crazy, isn’t it?’ Alison nodded. ‘But amazing. She seems happy.’

‘I think she really is,’ Alison whispered back.

They’d all toasted
to congratulate Jenny on her publishing deal, and then Alison had gone to greet the Spencers, who were standing by the doorway.

‘You made it,’ she said, delighted to see them.

‘Oh we wouldn’t have missed it,’ Derek replied, looking around the room. ‘Our things look rather nice in here don’t they?’

‘Much more room for them here,’ Ruby said. ‘I brought along some of the lavender furniture polish we used to put on the cabinet, I thought your friend Jamie might be able to use it.’ She patted her bag.

‘Oh, I’m sure he will,’ Alison said. ‘Can I get you a drink? Will you have a cocktail? Or there’s lemon barley water and orange squash. There are a few sausage rolls and things up on the counter, so you can just help yourself.’

‘Two squashes would be nice,’ Derek replied. ‘We don’t drink much really, leave that to you young people,’ he said, smiling, looking around the room where couples were starting to sway to the wartime tunes.

‘Come with me,’ Alison said, leading them by the arm over to the other side of the room, ‘I’d like you to meet my mother, and some other friends.’

By the time she’d brought the Spencers their glasses of squash, they were deep in conversation with Alison’s mother Cecily, her neighbour June, and two of the ladies from the hospice shop, Muriel and Anne.

‘Oh, we won’t stay long,’ Cecily said, although in truth they’d already been there over two hours and had shown no signs of wanting to leave. ‘June will want to drive back soon, I’m sure.’ June was smiling from ear
to ear, starting to bop along to a new tune. ‘But this is quite nice, isn’t it?’ Cecily said.

‘It certainly takes me back,’ Ruby joined in. ‘This music, when you hear it, it could almost be yesterday, couldn’t it?’ she smiled. ‘Do you remember the evacuees arriving? I was just telling Alison, the other day, about when they came. Those startled little faces, more used to smog than fresh air.’

‘You’re looking at one,’ Muriel laughed, pointing to her friend Anne.

‘Oh really? Is that right?’ Ruby said. Alison kept quiet, enjoying listening to the ladies talk, and above all seeing her mum so animated, looking healthier than she had been in weeks.

‘Yes it is,’ Anne said. ‘Arrived here from London in 1943 and then after the war I came right back,’ she laughed. ‘The family where I was housed made me feel right at home, I’d never been away before, but they really looked after me. Anyway, we stayed in touch and I’d come back from time to time to visit, with my parents. Andrew, their son, used to tease me and pull my hair – he was all freckles and grazed knees, always getting into scrapes. But one day when I came back he was all grown up, and pretty handsome with it. He asked me out dancing, and the rest was history. Seven grandchildren
the two of us have got now.’ Anne’s eyes were bright as she told the story.

‘Oh my,’ Ruby said, ‘I’ve heard about you two, local legends you are. How nice to finally meet you.’

‘Wonderful,’ Cecily added. ‘They were different times back then, weren’t they? Simpler. I remember when I met Alison’s father Gerry …’

‘That was fun, wasn’t it, sweetheart?’ Pete said as he pulled out of the parking space.

‘Absolutely,’ Alison replied. ‘It’s great to see the café up and running, and Mum was on good form, wasn’t she?’ Pete nodded.

‘And to be honest,’ Alison said, ‘it’s nice to get out without the kids once in a while, just us, isn’t it?’

Pete took his attention off the dark road for a moment and caught her eye. ‘Yes, it is.’

Alison put on Fleetwood Mac’s Greatest Hits and the two of them sang along to ‘Everywhere’ as they wound down the county lanes back to the house.

When they got back home Alison walked up the moonlit gravel path, still singing, a bit tipsily. She tripped and leant on Pete for support. He laughed at her wobbliness but then took her in his arms. ‘I love you so much, Pete,’ she said, kissing him. He kissed her back in answer.

When they got inside it was just before midnight and the house was
completely silent. ‘Pete, before we go to bed there’s something I want to show you,’ Alison said.

‘OK, sounds intriguing …’ Pete replied, as his wife led him back through to her workshop. She opened the door slowly and the first thing they both saw were the shafts of moonlight, slightly dappled by shapes of leaves, casting silvery beams across the studio.

‘My,’ said Pete, as he took in the full picture. Alison’s entire set of shelves was stacked with teacups; blue, pink, yellow, gold, decorated with flowers of every shape and size.

‘They make a pretty impressive collection, don’t they?’ Alison said.

‘I’ll say,’ Pete replied. ‘I mean I knew you three had been busy, but what a hoard this is. How many do you have here?’ he asked, walking towards the shelf and picking up one of the blue and white cups that were Alison’s favourites.

‘A hundred cups and saucers,’ Alison said, waving her hand to point them out, ‘twelve milk jugs and sugar bowls, ten teapots, four cake stands and a couple of other things that took our fancy along the way. It should all be boxed up, but I couldn’t resist taking them all out to have a look.’

‘They look terrific,’ Pete said. ‘It’s a shame to see them go really – but they’ll be making us our fortune, won’t they?’

Alison smiled. ‘Something like that, yes,’ she said, putting her arms around
Pete’s waist. ‘Their first stop is Jenny and Dan’s wedding next week.’

‘Ah, yes,’ said Pete.

Alison narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You did remember it was Jenny’s wedding next week, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, I mean, yes, of course I did.’

‘Anyway, enjoy them now, because I’m going to box everything up tomorrow and drive them over to the old school house so that they’re ready for Jenny and Dan’s big day.’

Pete gave his wife a squeeze. They turned around and walked out of the studio, and as Alison closed the door behind them she kissed Pete again, her kisses deeper this time. ‘It’s about time we went up to bed, don’t you think?’

‘Pete, what time is it?’ Alison stirred and then, seeing the sunlight coming in through the window, groaned and covered her face with a pillow.

‘It’s six-thirty, sweetheart. Sorry, I’ve got an earlier start today. I made you a cup of tea and put it on the side. I didn’t want to wake you.’

‘Urgh, Pete, I feel dreadful.’

He sat down beside her on the bed and kissed the top of her head. ‘You’ll live. Look, I’ve got to run, but let’s speak at lunchtime. I’ll be back late tonight – it’s manic at the office at the
moment I’m afraid – so don’t worry about dinner.’

‘OK, darling. Have a good day at work’.

A few minutes later, as Alison heard his car start up, she slipped on her kimono and silk slippers, clipped her hair up and took the tea Pete had made her downstairs to her workshop. She had an inbox full of emails that needed responding to and no one ever said you had to get dressed properly to do that. George cornered her in the kitchen, whining to be taken out for a walk, so she let him out into the garden to buy herself a little time. She watched him now through her window as he darted towards a squirrel. It only seemed like yesterday they’d brought him home as a puppy, the girls squabbling over who could play with him first – and now he was a dad himself.

Hearing a sound in the hallway, Alison turned and caught a glimpse of Sophie coming down the stairs, another figure tip-toeing behind her.

‘Morning,’ she called out. ‘You’re up early, girls.’

‘Er, yes, Mum,’ Sophie said, before adding more quietly, ‘couldn’t sleep.’

Alison craned her neck to see better through the doorway, and clocked right away that the person behind Sophie wasn’t Holly.

‘Sophie,’ Alison said, raising her voice. ‘Get in here this instant.’

Alison caught a glimpse of a teenage boy in a military-style jacket as her daughter shooed him out of the front door. Once the door was shut behind
him, she walked over into her mum’s workshop, dragging her heels, her head slightly bowed.

‘What just happened there?’ Alison said, standing up and fixing her daughter with a stern look. ‘Did I just see you let a boy out the front door?’

‘Yes. It was Matt,’ Sophie replied, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

‘Sophie. Look at me.’ Alison took her daughter’s chin in her hand, and Sophie’s eyes dropped down to meet her mum’s. ‘So Matt
stayed
last night?’

‘Yes,’ Sophie retorted.

Her daughter’s betrayal hit Alison like a jolt.

‘Your dad and I go out for the evening,
one evening
, Sophie, and trust you and Holly to look after yourselves, and this is what you do? You sneak your boyfriend – who incidentally we haven’t even met yet – in to stay the night?’

Sophie sighed audibly. ‘We didn’t
do it
, Mum, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

Alison took a deep breath. ‘Well I won’t pretend I’m not relieved to hear that. But it’s about more than sex, Sophie, and you know that.’ Sophie visibly cringed at the word. ‘You’ve betrayed our trust,’ Alison continued. ‘We thought you were grown-up enough to leave in charge of the house alone – that you were enough of an adult to look after yourself and set a good example for Holly – but it looks like we got that
very wrong.’

‘What do you expect, Mum?’ Sophie’s expression was stony. ‘You say it’s the first time you’ve left us alone, but it feels like Hol and I are by ourselves here all the time. Since Dad started the new job it’s like we hardly see him, he’s working so much – and you’re hardly around either, what with your business and this stupid teacup obsession,’ Sophie waved a hand at the laden shelves behind her mother. ‘It’s like neither you or Dad even care about us anymore.’

‘Sophie – that’s not fair and you know it,’ Alison said. ‘We explained that things would change a bit when your father went back to work and you and Holly said you were fine with that.’

‘You know what, Mum, we aren’t. You’ve neglected us. Holly thinks so too. And it started when you met your new friends.’ Sophie had a vicious look in her eye. ‘All you care about is hanging out with them and pretending you’re young again. It’s like you don’t even want to be a mum anymore.’

Alison’s jaw dropped. ‘How dare you. I work hard for this family.’ Alison thought of the late nights she’d stayed up with the sewing machine, over the last few months, just to bring in a few more pennies. How many times had she dropped everything for Sophie? And she saw her kids far more often than other working mums she knew. ‘I don’t have to listen to this. There’s no excuse for what you’ve done and you
know it. You’re grounded, for a month.’

‘You can’t,’ Sophie’s eyes were wide and her bottom lip quivered. ‘What about Matt?’

‘I certainly can. And I don’t care, Sophie. You forfeited your freedom last night when you let us down.’

‘You’re horrible, Mum.’ Sophie said, shaking her head at the perceived injustice. ‘You are a total, utter COW.’

With that, Sophie turned on her DM-clad heel. On her way out she grabbed hold of the studio door, slamming it shut behind her with such force that the windows in the room rattled. George jumped up at the window outside and let out a loud bark. Alison looked towards the window and froze. Then it was as if she was watching everything in slow motion.

The blue and white cup Pete had held in his hand last night clattered to the floor, shattering to pieces on the bare wooden floorboards. One of the precious forget-me-not set followed, knocking the milk jug next to it and dropping to the floor, crashing. The bracket holding up the middle shelf strained and snapped so that the entire shelf slid down to the right; the cups, like little china lemmings, fell to the floor and shattered one by one. Alison’s hands went to her mouth. She rushed to the shelves and tried to rescue the cups, catching two but watching at close range as others clattered to the floor, smashing one after another. When the last one on the middle
shelf had fallen, silence descended.

The door creaked open again and Sophie’s face appeared. She surveyed the room, taking in the damage she’d caused and her eyes filled with tears.

‘Oh God, Mum. This is all my
fault. I’m so, so, sorry.’

I was sitting on a bench on the green by the fountain, where today two toddlers were dipping their toes in the sparkling water and giggling. I opened up my new Rough Guide to Ireland and underlined a couple of pubs on the east coast that they recommended for live music. It might not be the Maldives, but the closer our honeymoon got, the more excited I was about spending it there, driving between cosy B&Bs and going for walks in the countryside. I picked up a California roll from my sushi set and guided it into my mouth as I turned the page.