The place had a municipal hospital coffee-shop vibe, all very new and clean, but plasticky and impersonal. There was a rainbow mural on the wall made up of kids’ handprints, and a glass display counter with cling-wrapped rolls and individual scones on paper plates with mini jam jars and clotted cream pots.
She took it upon herself to order the tea, confident they’d all be gasping for a brew. One thing they all loved was tea. So she paid and carried the tray and big silver pot and four mugs to a vacant table with low sofas right at the back and waited, reading leaflets from the rack about breast feeding support, baby vaccinations and talking therapies for men, feeling oddly out of place amongst the groups of elderly people too early for their appointments and the mums huddled over coffees while babies slept and toddlers caused havoc in the little soft play area in the window.
Why was she nervous? These were her friends from way back. She knew them better than anyone on the planet, other than her own family, and they knew everything about her.
They’d been through it all and had the photographic evidence to prove it, from primary school wonky fringes and skewhiff bunches, through pre-teen, gappy-teeth Christmas ceilidh dances in their party dresses, to high school performing arts club and jazz-hands big numbers and nervy solos, as well as a memorable prom night where Mhairi’s awkward first date with a Cairn Grove Boys’ School lad turned into an engagement at twenty-two and baby Jolyon not all that long after.
‘You all right?’
The voice, happy and loud, broke through her thoughts and she was in Brodie’s arms in an instant, the air being squeezed from her. Brodie had always been exuberant like this. Motherhood had done nothing to diminish it. In fact, she seemed brighter than ever.
‘Luce’s sorry she couldn’t come too, she’s on tax return duties today.’
‘Wow,’ Ally said, stupidly, still a little dazed by this reminder of Brodie’s whirlwind energy. ‘How is the catering business going?’
Brodie swept a dismissive hand. ‘Amazing, but I’m not here to talk about work. How are you?’
They sank onto sofas opposite each other. If Brodie wasn’t going to fill her in on the business, what on earth were they going to talk about?
‘Um, I’m great,’ Ally said, thinking how it was true in most regards, apart from the one that really mattered. Her heart was splintered yet again. But she couldn’t say any of that. ‘I’m applying for jobs, and planning some fun stuff for the repair shop, trying to grow its reach, you know?’
‘I don’t know,’ Brodie grinned, leaning forward. ‘Why don’t you tell me all about it?’
The jolt felt like sitting in the passenger seat of a sports car going from nought to sixty in five seconds. Brodie was using her extrovert powers to draw her out of herself, but where was she supposed to begin after not talking for ages? It felt weird and artificial, even though Ally’s face was fixed in a grin too.
‘Well, I’m thinking about pulling together a special event at the repair shed to help out Mum and Dad…’
Brodie cut her off, spotting someone approaching from the door. She was on her feet and making a lot of noise, welcoming Jo.
Ally watched them hugging and Brodie effervescing with excitement, feeling like she was experiencing this from somewhere outside herself. She took in the contrast between Brodie, all casual dungarees, boots, undercut and brown skin glowing with lotion and summer, and the blonde expensiveness of white, curvy Jo who’d arrived in a cloud of Tom Ford perfume with a full face of make-up like she’d just come from the beauty counter. She’d always looked immaculate like this, and she’d always leave her perfume scent on Ally’s clothes.
Now Jo was hugging Ally and saying, ‘Thank God’ she’d got the teas in already, she was ‘gaspin’!’
Brodie poured out the milk while Jo shoved in on the sofa beside Ally.
‘No Mhairi, then?’ Jo said, propping a huge red leather bag with flopping straps on the table, after checking the surface for stickiness.
‘She’ll be late,’ Brodie said, matter-of-factly. ‘Should I get us some cakes?’ She didn’t wait for an answer, bounding off to greet the lady at the till like she was an old friend before loudly ordering, ‘One slice of everything.’
‘Mhairi’s not the type to be late?’ said Ally, confused.
‘I’ll be surprised if she makes it at all,’ replied Jo.
‘Really?’ Ally’s heart sank further.
‘She’s cancelled on us at the last minute on every meet-up we’ve arranged.’
Ally watched as realisation hit Jo that she’d just let on the girls had been organising meet-ups without inviting her.
‘Not that we’ve met often!’ Jo added. ‘I haven’t seen Brodie since her Christmas party.’ Ally told her face to stay frozen in a smile. She hadn’t been invited to any Christmas party, had she?
‘I mean, it was more of a last-minute drinks kind of thing.’ Jo’s perfectly set, flawless make-up was no match for the flush of panic at her cheeks.
Ally felt sorry for her. ‘I’d have been busy, probably,’ she said, letting her off the hook.
‘Yeah, you seem like you’ve been so busy,’ Jo said, just as Brodie cut them off again, bringing a big plate of cake and a fistful of forks.
‘So, how are the kids?’ Ally said as they sat.
