Jennifer Joyce - The Little Teashop of Broken Hearts

‘Sorry?’ I moved – carefully – away from the staircase, my eyes scanning for Penny. And then something clicked. I’d seen him before, months earlier. ‘Oh, it’s you! The Blue Llama. You rescued me from that sleaze.’ It had happened six months ago and he remembered me? How odd. ‘Did I even say thank you?’ I’d been so shaken at the time, I hadn’t properly registered him (otherwise I’d have noted how gorgeous he was, obviously) so I doubted I’d shown an ounce of gratitude.

‘There was no need,’ he said with a shrug.

‘There was.’ I couldn’t believe how rude I’d been. That sleazy bloke could have done anything to me that night if it hadn’t been for my rescuer. ‘Let me at least buy you a drink.’

He grinned and my knees went a bit wobbly, which had nothing to do with the excess alcohol swimming around my bloodstream. ‘I won’t say no to that.’

His name was Joel and he was a property developer who was out with his mates. I would meet them all later, but not tonight. Tonight was about us, about getting to know all the fascinating little details that we could cram into the remainder of the night as we huddled in a corner, blocking out the noisy revellers, thumping beat and the multicoloured lights flashing around us. When the night came to an end, when we found we were the only ones left (Penny, Jack and the others had all trickled away at some point without me noticing), we found we couldn’t say goodbye and I did something I’d never done before. I went back to Joel’s place.

To some people, this is no big deal. It’s an ordinary, sometimes weekly, occurrence but to me, this was momentous. I didn’t have sex with virtual strangers, ever. But it felt right with Joel. It felt as though I’d known him for ever rather than a couple of hours in a sweaty club. And I knew, without a doubt, that this wouldn’t be a one-night thing. My actions were so unprecedented, Penny was in a bit of a state when I performed the walk of shame the following morning.

‘Where. Have. You. Been? ’ Penny leapt on me as soon as I pushed open the front door, her hands squeezing my shoulders tighter with each word. ‘I’ve been worried sick! I’ve been pacing the flat. I’ve phoned your dad. Your mum. I was about to phone the bloody police!’ Penny reached into my bag and tugged out my phone, turning it so that I could see the blank screen. ‘Why is your phone switched off?’

I nudged the door closed with my foot and wandered into the living room as I attempted to process the information she’d just dumped on me. She’d phoned Mum and Dad? She’d been thinking about phoning the police?

‘The battery died.’ Kicking off my shoes, I collapsed onto the sofa with a part happy, part weary sigh. ‘I’m sorry you were worried but I’m fine.’

‘I can see that.’ Penny looked almost put out that the drama had come to a sudden halt. ‘But where were you?’

My face itched until I gave in and allowed the huge Cheshire-cat grin to spread. ‘Do you remember that blond guy we saw?’

‘The totally fit one?’

‘The one you said made Jack look like Quasimodo.’

‘Sssssh!’ Penny’s eyes were wide, her head bobbing towards her bedroom next door. ‘Don’t tell him I said that.’

‘Jack’s here?’ I whispered.

‘Sleeping last time I checked. I tried to wake him up when I realised you weren’t here but the lousy sod said you’d probably pulled and started snoring again. I thought it was rubbish. Maddie doesn’t go on the pull. Maddie doesn’t have one-night shags.’ I flinched at the vulgar word. ‘But it turns out I was wrong. You’re a dark horse, aren’t you?’ Penny flopped down on the sofa next to me and nudged me with her elbow. ‘So what was it like? Are you seeing him again?’

The Cheshire-cat grin made a return. ‘It was amazing and I’m seeing him tonight.’

Penny’s mouth gaped open. ‘ Tonight? Blimey, he’s keen. It must have been good!’

‘It’s not just sex,’ I told Penny, who patted my knee in a patronising of-course-it’s-not kind of way. But I proved her wrong. I knew, without a doubt, that it hadn’t been a one-night thing and my gut instinct was verified by the five-year relationship that followed.

Sunday at the teashop was quiet (even by our usual standards) and even Robbie failed to turn up for his banana milkshake, so I sent Victoria home early to spend some time with Nathan. One of us may as well make the most of their loved-up status and, as I’d been single since my relationship with Joel ended, it obviously wasn’t going to be me.

Luckily, business picked up on Monday morning, with a breakfast rush (if you can call six customers a rush). The only downside was that Mags didn’t manage to get onto the council until mid-morning. Still, we were confident that our request would be approved. Why wouldn’t it? We wouldn’t damage the garden or prevent anybody else from using it. In fact, we’d be doing the council a favour by drawing attention to the neglected public area.

So it comes as an unexpected blow when we receive the rejection from the council a few days later, refusing permission to use the garden for our proposed summer party. We’re back at square one and nothing can haul us out of the slump the news has brought. Even The Builders, a group of jovial blokes who have been popping in for an afternoon treat once or twice a week while they’ve been working on a nearby housing development, fail to raise a smile. They usually arrive like sunshine in their fluorescent jackets, cracking jokes and making us laugh, but today we’re far too down in the dumps to play nicely. Even Owen, the foreman of the group, fails in his attempts to flirt with Mags.

‘Come to the pub with me tonight,’ Owen coaxes while a nonplussed Mags swipes at a table with a cloth. ‘I’ll cheer you up over a few drinks.’

‘It’ll take more than you buying me a few drinks to cheer me up,’ Mags says with a weary sigh.

‘Who said I was buying?’ Owen asks, which would usually crack us up but today it’s only Owen’s fellow builders, Connor and Little Jordan, who laugh while Mags and I can’t even raise a half-hearted smile to play along. Connor and Jordan (nicknamed ‘Little Jordan’ by his workmates as he’s on an apprenticeship scheme and the youngest on site) usually accompany Owen on the treat run, though others occasionally make the trip too. They’ve been popping into the teashop for the past six weeks and I’ll miss them when their job is completed and they move on. Although Mags will claim otherwise, she’ll miss Owen’s visits too.

‘Don’t be daft. He isn’t being serious,’ Mags will insist every time I broach the subject of her accepting Owen’s offer of a date, but her cheeks will take on a rosy tinge and her smile will be a little wider after his visits.

‘What are we going to do now?’ Victoria asks once The Builders have trooped out with their goodies. It’s her day off but she’s popped in with Nathan for a crisis meeting. They’re sitting at the rubber-duck-patterned table, Nathan’s hand making soothing circles on Victoria’s back. It’s so sweet, I have to look away otherwise I’ll either burst into tears or combust with jealousy.

‘We could still have the party,’ Mags says, though she can’t seem to muster much enthusiasm. ‘But on a smaller scale. We can do the samples as planned, just in here.’ She sits down opposite Victoria and Nathan, the corners of her mouth turning down. ‘I’m afraid that’d mean the band couldn’t play.’

Victoria nods. ‘It’s okay. It would have been fun, but the teashop and drumming up business is the most important part.’

‘And we’ll still help out if we can,’ Nathan says which, again, is incredibly sweet of him. ‘I’m not much use in the kitchen but I can hand out flyers and stuff. I’m sure the others will chip in too.’