Another Cup of Coffee by Jenny Kane Page B

to sing ‘ Twinkle Twinkle... ’ as she danced back to the counter to fill out an employment form for one Miss Amy Crane …

Eleven
    October 6 th 2006
    Jack wasn’t slumped in his seat this time, as he waited for Kit at the back of the department store café. In fact, he was looking pretty good. Not as relaxed as usual, granted, but not blatantly uncomfortable either. Jack winked at Kit as she crossed the room, her tray laden with highly-calorific treats. He patted the round-backed chair next to him.
    Sinking down, Kit found herself embraced in one of Jack’s familiar hugs. She inhaled the smell of his leather jacket and felt reassurance and relief flood through her. It was Jack’s equivalent of saying sorry for walking out on her, and she accepted it without question.
    â€˜How’s Phil doing?’
    This was not the opening question Kit had been expecting, but if Jack wanted small talk, then fine. ‘Still hating work and pretending otherwise.’
    Jack agreed, ‘He needs to get out before he burns out.’
    Kit emptied the contents of the tray onto their table, ‘Tell me about it. Trouble is, he’s run Home Hunters for ages. I’m not sure he knows how to let go.’
    â€˜He could sell up. Must be worth a bit; going concern and everything?’
    â€˜I’m sure it is, but until he’s ready, I can’t make him change his life.’
    Understanding Kit’s dilemma, Jack asked, ‘Have you talked about it?’
    â€˜Not really. There never seems to be a minute, what with work, writing, the twins; time seems to evaporate.’
    â€˜Oh, that old excuse.’ The corners of Jack’s mouth twitched into a wry smile.
    â€˜Yes that old excuse.’ Kit trailed fingertips through the icing sugar that had fallen from her croissant. She glanced at the inexpertly-done wildlife paintings that adorned the walls, and not for the first time thought that they’d be better suited to a second-rate country hotel, rather than this genteel corner of an otherwise smart high-end department store.
    Dragging herself back to the reason she’d arranged this meeting; Kit steeled herself to change the subject completely.
    â€˜So, what tape?’
    Jack was still squeezing Kit’s hand long after he’d finished talking. Kit hadn’t said a word, but had sat motionless, her body stiff as his words filtered into her brain. She already knew about his time as a student, about how he’d played the field when he’d been at university, while at the same time he hadn’t really been sure of his sexuality.
    What she hadn’t known was that, just as Jack was starting to think about giving up the whole ‘women thing’, he’d met Amy, and for a while everything had felt OK. That he’d never loved anyone like he loved Amy, and he’d dared to think that maybe he was straight after all, and that the first flickers of suspicion that he might prefer men had been happily extinguished.
    Without looking at her, Jack told Kit of how he came to realise though, as the months passed, that something was missing, wrong even. That, although he’d never loved anyone like Amy before, and when he’d slept with her it was fun and inventive, it wasn’t, well, right . He tried to describe the frustration that coursed through him each time he failed to feel content after sex.
    It hadn’t only been the sex either; it was as if something was out of kilter all the time. Jack explained that he’d broken up with Amy, and got back with her again, more times than he dared to think about. How The Clash could have written ‘Should I Stay Or Should I Go’ just for them. That he saw now how badly he’d treated her; that Amy couldn’t have known if she was coming or going.
    He explained how Amy’s tape had been a gift from her brother, and about the music he’d put on it for her. And how, more than anything else, he