The Single Mums’ Book Club. Victoria Cooke

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      ‘Why don’t you go and get some fresh air and I’ll sort this.’ She prises the loo roll out of my hand and I might be mistaken but I think she shoves me a little towards the door. Outside, the cold air hits me like a slap in the face. My head starts to pound like an embarrassed little man is trying to dig himself a hole in my grey matter. I contemplate scurrying off but she knows where I live and I really need that loo roll.

      ‘Here you go,’ she says, handing me a carrier bag. ‘Right, your place or mine?’ Despite living across the road from one another for years, we’ve never said more than a quick hello, or given knowing glances as we’ve struggled to get the kids into their impossible car seats, but here she is offering me support. I suppose I was always busy before the divorce, people-pleasing the likes of Emily, and ever since Mike left I’ve been so frazzled myself, I’ve barely acknowledged anyone. The fact she’s doing this for me sends a warmth so strong through my body, it almost sets me off crying again.

      Ten minutes later we’re in my kitchen and I’m apologising for the mess whilst cursing myself for not tidying up earlier.

      She bats away my comment with her hand. ‘Listen, I’ve always thought there was something suspicious about super tidy people – I mean, where do they find the time to be constantly cleaning? They’re missing out on something somewhere.’

      I laugh. I like this woman.

      ‘Anyway,’ she says as she fills the kettle. ‘Do you want to talk about anything? I’m a good listener and have a few hours to kill.’

      Something about her round face and soft brown eyes compels me to want to open up. I rarely get to speak to other adults, excluding Mike of course but he doesn’t count.

      When I try to pinpoint the things that are getting to me, I can’t. It’s not the divorce – I’ve had time to come to terms with that. The hardest part of the divorce wasn’t losing Mike, it was losing the family unit I’d always yearned for. Growing up without a mum and having a dad who was always away left me longing for a proper family. I never grew up wanting to be a nurse or a pop star. I grew up wanting to be a mum and a wife. The loss of that dream is what I’m mourning for, but the version Mike and I had was far from perfect. Today I think it’s just life that’s getting to me though. It all sounds so trivial when I try to verbalise it – people struggle with so much more.

      ‘I’m just being daft. I’m having a bad day and too many things got on top of me at once.’

      ‘I know that feeling.’ She uses the teapot off the shelf by the window and I daren’t tell her it was a gift that I keep for ornamental purposes because she’s being so kind. ‘Happens to me at least once a day. The kids run me ragged and my other half is as much use as a marshmallow mallet. I love them and all, but I do cherish the time I get when they’re at school.’

      When she places the mugs of tea down, she sits opposite me at the kitchen table and takes a sip. ‘The kids giving you grief too?’ She says the statement like a question.

      ‘Something like that. They’re not especially bad; it’s just the collective nature of them.’

      ‘Ahh, the many-headed beast, though I only have two – you’ve got your work cut out with three. Listen, it’s not my place to say and tell me to shut up if you wish but I heard about you and Mike splitting up and just wanted to say I’m sorry and I’m here if you need help or fancy a natter.’

      The kindness Janey is showing me is almost enough to set me off blubbing again. I can’t even remember a time when somebody showed me this level of empathy.

      ‘That’s so kind – thank you. Today has just been a special kind of horrendous … I didn’t sleep. I never sleep.’

      ‘Oh, honey, I know that feeling. All of life’s problems seem to want solving the minute you close your eyes.’

      I nod but it isn’t that. I can’t tell her the real reason I don’t sleep well. Instead, I find myself filling Janey in on everything else – right from Ava refusing to get dressed and Emily ditching me. Instead of telling me I’m being a drama queen, like Mike would have, or switching off like my old friends did, she listens and pulls sympathetic faces in all the right places. When I’ve finished, I feel several pounds lighter.

      ‘And to top it off,’ I add, ‘I was parent-shamed by the kids’ school this morning.’ I find myself laughing. It’s euphoric and unfamiliar.

      ‘Parent-shamed! We’re going to get along well. Tell me more?’ She rests her head on one hand, her elbow on the table.

      She laughs as I tell her there were no kids about when I entrusted my two to walk in unaccompanied. ‘Honestly, I think some jobsworth sits monitoring the CCTV just to try and catch a parent out!’ I shake my head. ‘More tea?’

      As I go to fill the kettle, Henry starts to cry. ‘Sorry.’

      ‘I’ll do the tea – you see to Henry,’ she says.

      A few hours pass quickly and before I know it, it’s time to pick the kids up.

      ‘Right, I’d better get going. I’m taking the car today as my eldest, Tom, has a friend coming for tea and he’s a bit of a whirlwind, this little guy, so I don’t fancy walking, but we totally should try and walk together a few days a week. Great for the bum!’ she says, slapping herself on the bottom for emphasis. I laugh.

      ‘And listen, my other half, Jimmy, works away a lot so I know how tough it can be on your own. When he’s here he’s always too tired to take any notice of me anyway, so if you’re ever stuck for someone to take the kids to school or look after them while you go on a hot date, just ask – if I’m free to help I will do,’ she says, giving me a pointed look that suggests she means it.

      My body fills with warmth. ‘Thank you – same here, although with you being married and me being a hot mess, I can’t see either of us going on a hot date any time soon.’ I chuckle but the reality is, I haven’t once considered dating. The thought of going through all of that early relationship stuff terrifies me, and besides, I have three children to think about.

      ‘You never know.’ She winks and I can’t quite tell if she means that I could be dating one day, or she could. Either way, I like Janey a lot.

       Chapter 3

      It’s one-fifteen when the doorbell rings. The kids’ bags have been packed and by the door since ten-thirty. Ava and Ralph have taken it in turns to ask, ‘When is Daddy going to be here?’ precisely every four minutes since they woke up at seven a.m.

      ‘You’re late,’ I hiss as Mike steps through the door.

      ‘Oh come on, I said elevenish not eleven on the dot.’

      ‘Since when has quarter past one been elevenish?’

      He gives me a sideways glance as Ralph comes bounding down the hallway.

      ‘Daddy!’

      ‘My big man!’ Mike scoops him up and spins him around. Ralph’s trainers scrape the wall leaving a black scuff mark about a foot above the skirting board, which СКАЧАТЬ