The No-Kids Club (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

A
nna rushed down Charring Cross Road towards Foyles, where the No-Kids Club was meeting. It was already a
few min
utes past seven, and she hated being late. She’d spent a good half hour trying to convince Michael to come along. He’d sauntered through the door early for once, and her heart had lifted.
But her attemp
ts to cajole him out of his work clothes and back onto the Tube proved fruitless. Instead, he’d slumped onto the sofa, kicked off his shoes, and started playing a video game where he had to defuse a bomb before it blew up a Middle Eastern city.

Why anyone would want to go straight from work to an equally stressful game was beyond Anna, but she hadn’t been able to tear Michael away from the screen. She’d tried to tempt him with the promise of dinner afterwards at Nando’s, his favourite restaurant. Even that hadn’t made him budge.

For a second, she’d contemplated staying in, too. She’d already told Clare to expect her, though, and Anna had been looking forward to going out. Ever since marrying Michael, her circle of female friends had shrunk dramatically. Her own doing, really, as she was constantly turning down invitations to stay in with him.

Staring at her husband as he fiddled with a bomb onscreen, Anna’s unease at how dull their relationship had become crept in again. And it wasn’t just their relationship. The satisfaction she’d once felt at keeping their home neat and orderly was fading, too. They just needed a bit of variety, she told herself, something different. She’d try again to persuade him out to the club next week.

Right, better get a move on. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the March air: cold, but with a hint of springtime warmth. It wouldn’t be long until the days were longer, if not
sunnier
. Hopefully by summer she’d have tempted Michael from his bubble and they’d have a whole new social circle, courtesy of the club. She couldn’t wait to meet everyone.

As she threaded her way down the crowded pavement, Anna wondered what Clare Donoghue would be like. The club’s Facebook profile hadn’t given much away, the small photo showing an attractive woman in her thirties with dark hair. Fingers crossed the place wouldn’t be so packed Anna couldn’t recognise her. She hurried inside the bookshop and up to the first-floor café.

To her surprise, the space was practically empty except for a woman in the corner with long hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. A tight black polo neck made her high cheekbones look even more sculpted. That had to be Clare. Anna swallowed back the rush of intimidation that swept over her, a usual occurrence whenever she was faced with pulled-together, professional-looking women. Somehow, they had a way of making her feel inferior, as if their corporate accomplishments diminished her domestic achievements.

There were different kinds of success, Anna reminded herself, and as long as she was happy . . . She drew up her shoulders and marched towards the woman in the corner, her ballet flats making squeaking noises on the polished floorboards.

‘Excuse me, are you Clare?’

The woman’s head whipped up from her steaming drink. ‘Yes. Poppy?’

‘No, I’m Anna.’ She held out a hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’ At least there’s one other person coming, she thought, sinking onto an empty sofa. Making small talk with Clare all night appealed as much as joining Michael in his bomb defusing.

Clare’s fingers closed around her palm in a firm grip, and Anna relaxed as the woman shot her a friendly smile. ‘Thanks for coming out. Sorry, I thought you were bringing your husband, so I assumed you were someone else.’

Anna looked down at the floor. ‘He couldn’t make it tonight. Maybe next time.’ She hoped. ‘How many are you expecting this evening?’

‘Just one other woman. I only started advertising a couple of days ago, so I’m sure loads will come in the next few weeks. Let’s hope there are more people than us in this city who aren’t planning to have children!’ Clare shook her head. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are to have found a man who doesn’t want kids. I’ve searched high and low without success.’

Anna smiled. Despite the recent lull in their relationship, Clare was right. She and Michael
were
lucky to have had found each other. ‘I know. He’s my everything,’ she said simply, warmth flooding through her. Clare’s nose twitched as if she’d smelled something bad, and Anna flushed at the cheesy-sounding words that were better suited to a song lyric. It was true, though. She couldn’t imagine life without him.

‘So how did you two meet?’ Clare asked, draining her drink and staring over at the entrance. Anna could see she wasn’t that interested, but until this Poppy person turned up, they might as well kill some time.

‘It’s not the world’s most romantic tale,’ Anna said, although personally, she thought the steady, straightforward way they’d got to know each other—with no drama or arguments—was a hundred times more romantic than her parents’ whirlwind courtship. ‘We met in university, up at York. I was doing a degree in literature and he was finishing his masters in engineering. We used to see each other every morning at the café in the
students
’ union, and eventually he came over and started talking to me.’ She grinned at the memory of how she’d been about to rush off to class and he’d materialized in front of her. Her coffee had splashed onto his trousers, but instead of being annoyed, he’d laughed. The spark in his eyes combined with a killer smile
had instan
tly attracted her.

‘Sounds romantic enough to me,’ Clare said. ‘And the best bit is that you’re on the same page when it comes to children.’

Anna nodded. ‘Exactly.’ She and Michael rarely argued about anything. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d exchanged angry words.

She glanced around the room, wondering what to say next. Funny, she’d just assumed because members had the no-kids things in common, they’d have lots to chat about, too. Thankfully, she was saved by the tentative smile of a woman hovering over them.

‘Oh, hello,’ Clare said. ‘You must be Poppy.’

‘Yes, hiya!’ Poppy panted. ‘Sorry I’m late. The Tube took ages.’

Anna scooted over to give Poppy room on the sofa. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Anna.’ She held out a hand, wondering what this woman’s story was. With delicate features and curly blonde hair, Poppy looked like she was created to have babies. Everything about her was soft and warm, a sharp contrast to Clare’s no-nonsense persona. ‘Right, I’m in serious need of coffee.’ Anna gestured towards the counter. ‘Would anyone else like one?’

‘Not me, thanks.’ Clare grinned as she indicated the two empty espresso cups in front of her. ‘If I drink any more, I’ll never get to sleep tonight! I have enough problems as it is.’

‘Okay. Poppy?’

Poppy shook her head, hair flying out around her impish face. ‘I wish. But no, thanks. I can’t remember the last time I had a
coffee
, actually.’

‘God, I love it. Life without caffeine isn’t worth living!’ Clare laughed. ‘Do you not like the taste?’

‘Well, no. I do.’ Poppy’s cheeks coloured. ‘But I read that
caffeine
inhibits fertility.’

‘Some studies have indicated higher caffeine consumption can affect fertility and the success of IVF, but there’s been nothing definitive.’ Clare’s brow furrowed. ‘But . . . ’ Anna could see the wheels spin inside Clare’s brain as she tried to work out why Poppy was on about fertility. Anna was having trouble working it out herself.

‘Er, actually, my husband and I do want children. We’ve been through several IVF cycles, but it hasn’t worked. Yet.’ Poppy’s cheeks flushed. ‘I hope it’s okay that I still want kids and I’ve come here? I just need a place to hang out where children aren’t the main source of conversation.’

‘Well, sure,’ Clare said, smoothing back her hair. ‘We want to build our membership, and the club is for anyone without kids, regardless of the reasons.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m won’t regale anyone with tales from the fertility clinic.’ Poppy smiled, but she looked more sad than happy. ‘That’s the last thing I want to dwell on.’ She shuddered, and Anna’s heart filled with sympathy.

‘We’re not going to give up, though.’ The look of pain on Poppy’s face was replaced with an expression of determination. ‘I’d do anything to be a mother, you know?’ She glanced at Clare and Anna as if she expected them to understand, and Anna reached out to touch her arm. She may not understand wanting children, but she
could
understand wanting something that badly. She smiled, remembering her eagerness to marry Michael and build a life together. It had eclipsed everything else—including her dream to live and work in Italy for a year after graduation.

Ever since she was young, romantic visions of Venice’s canals and sun-drenched stone streets had filled her mind. Her parents had even talked about taking her there—until they’d started arguing and couldn’t agree on which way to hang the loo roll, let alone holidays. In her last year at university, Anna had an interview to teach at an English language school in Venice. Then Michael proposed and wedding planning took over. She’d tried everything to convince him Venice would be the ultimate honeymoon destination, but he’d set his heart on a cosy cabin in the Lake District, and she succumbed. It was idyllic, but it wasn’t Venice.

Once they’d settled into their house, Anna pushed Italy from her mind. She had another dream now: to have a marriage so strong that nothing would ever tear it apart. And until recently, she’d been happy enough with that.

A rogue dart of longing hit as she pictured the school’s website, showing rows of tables underneath olive trees where outdoor classes were held. Before the vision took root, she pushed it from her mind and got to her feet.

‘I’ll just grab that coffee,’ Anna said, leaving Clare and Poppy to chat for a moment. She breathed in the scent of roasted beans at the counter as she waited for the barista to make her Americano, wondering what Michael was up to right now. It’d been ages since she’d gone out socially without him, and part of her felt uncomfortable alone here, as if their worlds were being pulled further apart. The thought made her even more determined to find an activity they could enjoy together—or at least drag him out to the club’s next meeting.

‘So!’ Poppy smiled as Anna plopped into her chair, and Anna couldn’t help grinning back. There was something child-like and endearing about her. ‘Clare’s just told me all about her job as an emergency doctor.’ Poppy’s eyes were wide with admiration. ‘What do you do, Anna?’

Anna gulped. There was nothing wrong with being house-proud, but she hated when people asked her that—and even more with people like Doctor Clare beside her. ‘I work part-time in a bookshop.’

‘That must be fun!’ Poppy enthused. ‘I adore bookshops. I’m there all the time tracking down books for my class. If I could find part-time work in one, I would, too.’ She paused, and Anna jumped in before Poppy could ask what she did with the rest of her time.

‘And apart from that, I make sure everything runs smoothly at home,’ she said in a rush. Her cheeks coloured, and she told herself there was nothing to be so defensive about. ‘My husband Michael and I have a lovely house, and I’m busy doing it up.’ She didn’t mention they’d moved in over six years ago, and ‘doing it up’ mainly included ironing shirts, washing dishes, and cooking Michael’s dinner each night.

‘Oh, fantastic. I’ve always wanted to be able to redo a house from the inside out. I loved decorating the nursery . . . ’ Her voice was bright, but Anna spotted the liquid glistening in her eyes. ‘So you don’t want children?’ she asked, tilting her head.

‘No, we’re happy just the two of us.’ Well, they had been, and they would be again once Anna found something to inject life back into her husband.

‘Ladies, I think it’s time for some ground rules,’ Clare said, leaning forward. ‘Although we all have different reasons, we’re here for the same thing: to escape from talking about kids. So from now on, can we try to find something else to discuss and enjoy the night, child-free?’

Anna nodded, thinking how funny it was that children kept sneaking into the conversation, even in a club for child-free living.

‘Sorry, sorry.’ Poppy’s cheeks flushed again and she tucked a strand of flyaway hair behind her ear.

‘Well.’ Clare crossed her long legs, looking as if she was searching her mind for topics. ‘What do you two like to do for fun?’

Oh, Lord. Anna took a sip of coffee. Fun? To be honest, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d done something for kicks. Usually, everything had a purpose: the windows needed washing; the floor needed polishing. It might not be fun, but the sense of accomplishment made her feel secure, like the day had strengthened some invisible shield protecting her marriage. Even back when she and Michael had gone out, the activities were usually things he’d enjoy. It was enough for her to know he was happy. Or it had been, anyway.

She shifted awkwardly, waiting for Poppy to answer. But Poppy seemed just as uncomfortable as her.

‘Um, well, most of our income has gone into IVF,’ Poppy responded finally, cheeks flushing, ‘so we don’t have a lot left over for extras.’

‘How about you, Clare?’ Anna asked to shift the focus away from poor Poppy. Surely their leader had a list of hobbies a mile long. Ambitious people weren’t known for their relaxation skills.

‘Oh, my schedule doesn’t allow much time for leisure activities,’ Clare said breezily, waving a hand in the air. ‘It’s pretty crazy.’

Silence fell again, and Anna glanced from Poppy to Clare, then cleared her throat. ‘Cold out there tonight, isn’t it?’ She could scarcely believe they’d descended to talking about the weather, but at least it was one thing they all had in common. First meetings were always awkward, Anna told herself. They probably just needed more time to gel.

They discussed the British climate’s fickleness for a few more minutes, then Anna looked at her watch. ‘Wow, is that the time?’ She’d better get going if she wanted to say good night to Michael before he hit the sack. It was silly, but somehow the evening didn’t feel right without her good-night kiss.