Tuesdays at the Teacup Club Read Free Page B

Anna had been keeping updated with orders, and ran her eyes over the dates and flower specifications. As she looked at the
     screen, the numbers jumped around. The words became unfamiliar to her.
    Stan fussed in his buggy, tossing and turning, and let out a piercing cry. Maggie pressed her eyes shut, tight, and cradled
     her head in her hands.
    Just after midday, Maggie stepped out into Charlesworth High Street. She’d done all she could at Bluebelle. She passed the
     new coffee shop, Love Latte, which was full of students, twenty-somethings on their laptops and mums like her, chatting over
     steaming hot drinks and muffins. She crossed over the road towards Blitz Spirit.
    Pushing open the glass door, she saw Alison bent over a table wiping away cake crumbs, dark hair swept back in her trademark
     victory rolls, and bright red lipstick on.
    ‘I know I’m a day early, but tell me you’ve got five minutes?’ Maggie said, pushing Stan’s buggy inside. He’d finally fallen
     asleep.
    ‘Of course, Maggie,’ Alison said with a smile. ‘And for this one’ – she peeked into Stan’s buggy – ‘anything. How about a
     banoffee pie? For you, I mean. Would that help?’
    ‘I think it would, yes,’ Maggie said, taking a seat. ‘Thank you.’
    Alison made her way over to the counter and brought out a large slice of pie on a plate.
    ‘Thanks,’ Maggie said, taking hold of it gratefully, and Alison poured them both cups of tea. ‘This brings back memories,’
     Maggie said, reaching out to touch the blue and white china teapot.
    ‘A find from Teacup Summer,’ Alison smiled, recalling the time they’d spent together collecting teacups from auctions and
     charity shops, feeding a passion for vintage they shared with Jenny. After the cups were used for Jenny’s wedding, and the
     wedding Maggie was arranging flowers for, Alison had turned most of them into teacup candles and sold them from her craft
     site. The remainder were here, at Blitz Spirit.
    ‘That time feels like a world away now,’ Maggie said. ‘So uncomplicated.’
    ‘How are things going?’
    Maggie shrugged. ‘The honest answer? I’ve barely slept the last couple of nights with Stan’s teething.’
    ‘You do look a bit tired,’ Alison said, her forehead creased in concern.
    ‘I can’t think straight, Ali. I just popped into Bluebelle to make myself useful.’ A lump rose to her throat as she spoke.
     ‘But I couldn’t do a thing.’
    Alison reached across the coffee table and touched her friend’s hand gently. ‘Go easy on yourself. It’ll take a bit of time,
     that’s all.’
    ‘I know you’re probably right,’ Maggie said. ‘But how long? I feel like such a mess.’ She held out the sleeve of her green
     tea dress so that Alison could see the stain on it. ‘Look, brand new and there’s baby sick on it already.’
    Alison smiled. ‘Maggie, you, even after a few late nights in a dress with stains on it, are still more glamorous than the
     rest of Charlesworth after hours scrubbing up. You’re not getting any sympathy from me.’
    Maggie laughed, surprised at the sound after a few days of not hearing it. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m being self-indulgent and
     vain. How I look doesn’t really matter. But my brain – that does. And it seems like I can barely remember what day it is at
     the moment. It’s hard to be a good mum when you can’t think straight.’
    ‘You’re doing a great job, Maggie. Don’t push yourself so much.’
    ‘I want to do it perfectly,’ she said. ‘But whatever I do with Stan seems to result in chaos – and at the same time, I don’t
     know if I can face putting him in nursery, handing him over to a stranger.’
    Alison nodded, as if she recognised the feeling from her own time as a new mum.
    ‘I feel bad about it, but I also miss the shop, working, meeting people – talking to grown-ups. I know I should be treasuring
     every minute with him, and I’ll never get this time again. But – Ali,