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‘We kissed last night,’ he says. ‘I forgot. You kissed me.’
Instant reaction: curl up and die.
‘Yes.’ I nod solemnly. ‘I did kiss you. There’s a whole story behind that which I’ve wanted to talk to you about.’
‘A story?’ Joe folds his arms, his usual amused look now replaced with a frankly quite intense one.
I open my mouth ready to launch into an explanation when Olivia stops right next to us with a perky: ‘Coffee delivery!’
She thrusts two coffees into our hands, heads over to the rest of the group to do the same and I’m struck with an odd sense that something’s not quite right. Olivia has her usual immaculate uniform of floating skirt with soft knitted jumper on. She looks the same as ever. So what’s bothering me? I scan her up and down and my eyes snag on the drinks she’s carrying.
They’re my coffees.
I’d recognise the Mylk It logo anywhere. I spent weeks working on it with a design team, after all. The bold, deep green and white print. The I of It designed to look just like an old-fashioned milk bottle. I shake my head in confusion. Did Olivia travel to London for this morning’s coffee fix? Another mum told me that Olivia had bought a flat close to St Barnaby’s just to get her daughter Nikhita in catchment, and that the family actually live on the other side of town, so she’s obviously happy to go to batshit lengths to get what she wants. But a five-hour round trip just for a morning brew? Surely not.
Now she’s handing the coffees out and the group are responding with grateful noises and, in Frankie’s case, a whispered ‘fuck yeah’.
Usually I’d feel a buzz to have been included in the delivery but now I feel all at sea as I realise I’m holding one of my own compostable cups. They’re much more expensive to source but the driving ethos of my company had always been sustainability, so I’d insisted on them. It was a battle, actually. Mark had wanted to maximise profit and he had our financial backers, aka his family, on his side. I’d had to put my foot down.
‘What the hell?’ I mutter in shock.
I feel Joe taking a protective step towards me. And when I drag my gaze up from the Mylk It–branded cups, I see concern written across his face. He understands what’s going on.
‘This must be a shock,’ he says quietly, steering me farther away from the crowd and standing like a soldier on guard while I try to process what’s going on.
‘What do you need?’ Joe asks. ‘I can stay and make sure Lila gets in if you need to make some calls?’
‘I don’t know,’ I reply meekly. ‘I feel so vulnerable all of a sudden. What are they doing here in Bristol? It’s such an … intrusion.’
Because the question is, what is Mark up to? When I was at the helm Mylk It had no plans to branch out of London, with Mark in particular keen to keep the business model London-centric. And of course I’ve kept an eye on the company ever since, sometimes I can’t help a quick google to see how it’s doing. It was my original baby, after all. So I know they haven’t branched out, until now. I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as I think this through. Why has Mark chosen Bristol, of all the cities in the UK, to launch the first café outside the capital? The question makes me uneasy. Does he have an ulterior motive? I cast my eyes over to Lila, playing a game of rock paper scissors with Nikhita nearby, and the thought of her biological father potentially being in the same city as her makes me feel exposed. Helpless, even.
‘Whatever they’re doing, I’m here for you, Soph,’ Joe says. He puts an arm around me and I’m torn between feeling a swell of emotion towards him, and thinking about Lila and her father. I’ve always wanted her to know that any questions she will undoubtedly have will be answered honestly. Every now and then, she’ll bring him up, like the time a few months ago when she asked if he was ever coming back. It was such a matter-of-fact question, and my heart broke for her because I worry that she will somehow think it’s her fault that he’s not around. So even though in my head I’m calling Mark every name under the sun for being such a useless tool, I make sure I don’t drag him down when we talk. I explain that he wasn’t ready to be a father and I tell her how much I love her. I tell her that he lives in London and that Mummy came to Bristol to make a cosy family home for Lila. But now Mark’s encroaching on my space and I feel incredibly unsettled, like my past life has come crashing into my current self.
I don’t like it one bit.
I will need to deal with this, but right now, my instinct is to stay by Lila’s side. So I lead Joe back over to the group.
‘I figured we’d be in need of a caffeine boost after all that partying last night,’ Olivia is saying amid grateful thank-yous.
Tally grabs her cup and literally squawks. ‘Mylk It! Where did you get your hands on this, Liv?’ She demands this half listening, half taking a photo of the cup in her hand and uploading evidence online. ‘I need details asap.’
‘They’ve got a converted ice cream van parked outside the private school just up the road,’ Olivia explains. ‘Apparently they are opening a pop-up café in Bristol soon. Have you heard of them?’
‘Of course I have! Anybody who’s anybody has heard of them,’ growls Tally, furiously tapping into her phone. ‘If Mama in Pearls has this before I do then I’ll be in the shit. Her kids go to that school, she’s bound to be all over it. Bloody pearl-wearing idiot.’
‘It can’t be that bad, can it?’
Tally rounds on Mel with a fiery passion.
‘I’m meant to be at the forefront of what’s happening in this city. If another mumfluencer gets there first it will be curtains for my brand. Urgh. I’ve got to call my agent and find out what’s going on. Can someone make sure Margot gets into class please? If I head off now I might catch the van before it moves.’
Tally hops into her 4x4 and zooms off up the road while I watch in a daze.
‘God, this coffee’s good,’ Celeste says.
‘Yup, needed this,’ Frankie agrees.
‘These guys are a pretty big deal in London, aren’t they?’ asks Mel. ‘It would be great if we got one here too.’
