Page 122 of The Winter of Second Chances
The weather is atrocious, completely understand if you want to give book club a miss tonight.
The messages she received in response were pretty unanimous.
Maeve:I think we should at the very least pride ourselves on NOT being a fair-weather book club. I’ll be there and I WILL judge anyone who cries off because of a spot of rain.
Gemma:Oh goodness, no, the weather is only going to get worse, we can’t give up at the first hurdle. Book club is our beacon to help us through the dark winter ahead. I’ll be there!
Sally:Really couldn’t not turn up even if I wanted to bail after Maeve’s rousing and slightly threatening message Count me in.
Annie still hadn’t heard from John and rebuked herself for the number of times she checked her phone throughout the day. She had given in and called him, but his phone had gone straight to voicemail; he was obviously ignoring her.
The weather didn’t improve, and day surrendered to evening with no demonstrable effort. There wasn’t – so far as Annie could see – even a discernible sunset to mark the change, only darker shades of grey and a further drop in temperature, which seemed to echo her mood.
Annie rolled out the pizza dough, spread it liberally with first tomato paste and then pesto, and layered olives, anchovies, baby plum tomatoes and mozzarella on top. She poked sprigs of fresh basil in the gaps, drizzled the whole thing with olive oil and put it in the oven to bake. Hot carbs, she decided, was the balm to soothe her fellow book clubbers when they came in out of the cold.
Just before seven, the wind buffeted Saltwater Nook so hard that the locks on the kiosk shutters gave up, causing the wooden shutters to slam back loudly and repeatedly against the wall. Annie fumbled about in the store cupboard until she found a bag of cable ties. She pulled on her raincoat – though there was no chance of the hood staying up – and fought her way round to the front of the kiosk. It took three tries before she managed to fasten the shutters closed and pull the cable fast through the hooks. The rain lashed at her back as she checked the rest of the locks on the other windows, the wind undecided as to whether to flatten her to the walls of the cafe or sweep her out to sea. The crash of waves behind her was deafening; salt spray stung her eyes and lips. Half blinded, her hands red raw from the cold hard rain, she secured the rest of the windows, including Alfred’s, since he was tucked up in the shelter.Thank heavens for small mercies, she thought and silently gave thanks for John’s tenacity in preventing him from being out in this storm.
‘Need a hand?’ Maeve yelled. Annie hadn’t heard her pull up in the tumult caused by the storm.
‘I’m just finishing up!’ Annie shouted back. ‘Go on in and warm up.’
She heard Gemma shriek and looked round to see Maeve trying to push Sally’s wheelchair against the wind, while Gemma leaned her full force against the door to stop it slamming shut, so they could get in. Annie tightened the final cable tie and pushed her way against the wind, and almost fell into the cafe behind the windswept women.
Gemma gave a kind of hysterical laugh that was mirrored by the others.
‘I’ve not known a storm this bad for twenty years!’ exclaimed Maeve. ‘Had to help the girls get the sheep in the barns – poor old things were at risk of taking off.’
‘I’m glad you were driving tonight, Maeve,’ said Gemma, shaking her coat out and hanging it up on the hook behind the door. ‘I don’t think I would have been able to do it.’
‘It wasn’t fun,’ said Sally. ‘My car was all over the place coming down here.’
‘God, yes!’ mirrored Gemma. ‘I could hardly see a thing through the rain, it was coming down so fast!’
Sally was mopping her face with her jumper. Annie handed round clean tea towels for blotting hands, faces and hair.
‘Smells good in here,’ said Maeve, handing her coat to Gemma to hang up and taking a seat.
The others ‘Mmmm’d in agreement.
‘If the weather gets any worse, I’m camping out here for the night,’ Sally joked.
‘You can sleep in Alfred’s spot since he’s gone civilian,’ said Maeve.
Sally looked enquiringly at Annie and Annie explained how Alfred had been found somewhere to stay for the winter.
The women took their places. Four editions ofThe Tenant of Wildfell Hallin various states of repair were placed on the table. Spirits were high this evening, not least because of their adrenalin-fuelled journey down to the Nook. The boisterous storm was making itself heard in the cafe, so that they needed to talk louder than usual to be heard, and the draught was enough to keep the candles permanently a-flicker, but it felt warm and cosy in the orangey glow of the lamps.
Maeve filled everyone’s glass with hot dark-fruits punch, while Annie sliced the pizza and brought it steaming to the table.
‘I mean,’ said Gemma, pulling at a long string of mozzarella still attached to her pizza slice, ‘it could have been a lot simpler if Helen and Gilbert had just been honest and frank with each other from the start.’
‘Would have made for a shorter story, though,’ said Annie.
‘I kind of like the way the story meanders itself out, like a lazy river,’ said Sally.
‘Nice touch, with the whole thing being written via letters and diaries,’ added Maeve. ‘A good way to split narrators.’
‘It was making my heart ache because Helen and Gilbert are clearly in love but there are just so many misunderstandings between them keeping them apart,’ said Gemma.
