The New Beginnings Coffee Club: The feel-good, heartwarming read from bestselling author Samantha Tonge. Samantha Tonge

well, circumstances force us to evolve,’ he muttered in a flat voice. ‘Come on. Let’s choose our starters.’

      Knots formed in my stomach as the evening progressed. Not even the best tiramisu this side of the Channel put a smile on his face or a joke in his chat. Still, his sullen expression didn’t stop young female diners and waitresses shooting admiring glances his way – something I’d become accustomed to, over the years.

      ‘Zak – talk to me!’ I eventually said after the waiter delivered our coffees. ‘What’s on your mind?’

      He glanced down at his cup.

      ‘Fine, then. I’ll start.’ Anything to break this strained silence. I took a deep breath. ‘I want to pick up my studies again. Lately, what with April being older, I … I need to design again, Zak. I’m going to get my old sketches down from the loft and –’

      ‘You? Go back to uni?’

      I waited for him to ask why. Instead his face flushed and slowly he shook his head. He ran a hand through his untidy hair, lips firmly closed, eyes staring harder at his drink. An icy shard pierced my chest. What was going on? Zak didn’t do silence. He either agreed or disagreed vociferously, whether it was brainstorming a new charity idea or suggesting what we had for dinner. Did he really want a Stepford wife whose life consisted of being the perfect hostess and doing housework? He was in for a shock if he did.

      ‘Zak? I’m worried,’ I said gently and reached across the table. I squeezed his hand.

      He pulled away and looked up. ‘You’re worried? About what? Which shoes to wear to your next lunch out? Well try living in my shoes for twenty-four hours.’

      I gasped.

      He held his head in his hands. ‘Sorry, baby,’ he said in a muffled voice. ‘It’s just …’

      ‘Tell me,’ I almost whispered. ‘It’ll be okay.’

      ‘Perhaps you should get a job instead of going back to college,’ he blurted out.

      I leant back in my chair. Zak had always loved our traditional set-up – him out to work and me at home. Both his parents had worked full-time when he was little, and I got the feeling that Fifties-style family life was a fantasy he’d held for a long time. So why would he suddenly want me to earn?

      A shiver slowly descended my spine. My voice wavered. ‘Is Elite Eleganz in trouble? Is that why you’ve been working so late? I assumed business was booming, but –’

      Zak opened his mouth but nothing came out. Finally he nodded. ‘We’ll have to get rid of the Porsche. Forget holidays for a while. Cancel our tennis club membership. And April … I just don’t think we can afford the fees for Oakwood Towers any more. I’ve tried so hard to avoid this, but she’ll have to move to a state school.’

      ‘But April’s settled there!’ Was he mad? My throat went dry. Forget the material things and journeys abroad. April would hate moving. Leaving her friends. Being the new girl. ‘Surely we can work something out? Why didn’t you tell me before? And it’s mid-term … none of this makes sense.’

      ‘Sorry, Jenny,’ he mumbled. ‘I … I’ve let you down.’

      ‘You have.’ My eyes watered. ‘By not confiding in me all these weeks. Didn’t you imagine I could have helped, or at least shouldered the burden? I’m not just some piece of fluff who’s going to disintegrate if she can no longer afford Louboutins.’ My voice shook. ‘Look …’ I breathed in and out for a few moments. ‘Zak. Let’s think about this. There must be a way we can sort this out …’

      ‘I … I can’t do this. Not now,’ he mumbled and stood up, scraping his chair. Without a word he left the restaurant. My jaw dropped.

      I scrabbled for my purse but Marco came over to my table, carrying my coat, and muttered something about paying next time we were in. I shot him a grateful look before navigating tables as I made my way to the glass door and hurried outside. Deeply I inhaled as the evening air hit my face.

      Squinting through the darkness, I saw Zak’s suited silhouette pass The Coffee Club, with its jars of beans and glass-domed plates of cake. His hunched gait made him look unusually vulnerable, as he ended up at a small park. Not long after, I caught him up but he didn’t stop walking. And a creeping, dull sensation didn’t stop slithering across my body. What had stopped him from opening up, all these months?

      ‘Zak! Hold up! My shoes are killing me,’ I said, but he cut right, into the children’s playground and then stood still for a second, shoulders scrunched. From behind, I wrapped my arms around his waist, but vigorously he shook them off. With a shiver – despite my faux-fur coat – I sat down on a swing. A part of my brain noticed how different this swing was from the one in Marco’s restaurant, the one I’d been blissfully enjoying only an hour before.

      I waited in the darkness. Gave Zak the time he clearly needed. Kicked off my stilettos. Eventually he sat on the swing next to me. Side by side – it was the closest we’d been all evening, and the breeze carried over a familiar smell, but I couldn’t quite identify it. I rubbed my nose and waited for him to speak.

      ‘I’ve messed up, Jen. Big time. Risked everything my parents worked for. And …’

      A solitary orange street lamp lit up his strong features. I took a deep breath and smelt the damp, earthy evening air. ‘We’ll sort it out,’ I said firmly, determined to show him that all the support he needed was right here, in a little black dress. ‘Together. I promise. We’ll move somewhere smaller. Holiday in Britain. And don’t worry about Oakwood Towers. I’m sure they won’t expect April to leave immediately. That’ll give us time to –’

      Eyes drooping at the corners, Zak suddenly looked every one of his forty-three years. ‘You don’t understand – we’re on the brink of bankruptcy. I’ve ploughed so much money into the new store we opened in Manchester. As it turns out, the location isn’t quite as dynamic as I’d predicted. Plus, our latest lines haven’t sold well.’

      Bankruptcy? I almost laughed. No. He had to be wrong. He really must have blown his worries out of all proportion. That’s what happened when you didn’t share your concerns. Irrationality took over. ‘Oh, darling, the company has hit hard times before,’ I said, calmly. ‘This will just be a blip.’

      ‘It’s no blip,’ he snapped.

      But Elite Eleganz couldn’t be broke. It didn’t make sense. ‘Okay. So why has everything fallen apart now?’

      He turned away. ‘Bad luck, a big new competitor, and investing capital in a project someone pitched me when I should have ploughed it back into the business. I’ve had to let some staff go to cut costs. That’s why my work hours have been crazy lately, me covering for them. And I’ve asked around, tried to find investors, but they lose interest as soon as they see the books.’ He swallowed. ‘And … there’s something else, Jenny.’ Zak jumped off the swing and paced up and down.

      I stood up too but without my stilettos had to stare upwards more than usual to see the expression on his face. ‘Whatever it is, I’m here for you,’ I said, gently. ‘You should have confided in me earlier, Zak. I’m your wife. It’s my job to be there for you when times get tough.’ My hair fell down to my shoulders. Zak tilted back my head, bent down, and brushed his lips against mine, before trailing his soft mouth down my neck. But his lips didn’t press hard like they used to and he drew back as if he, too, had been hoping for something that wasn’t delivered. My nose twitched … that smell again … I sneezed.

      ‘Oh, Jenny …’

      I scrunched up my face as a sudden realisation washed over me. ‘Why are you covered in Chanelle’s perfume?’

      ‘What are you talking about?’

      ‘April came home wearing it after the party. It made me sneeze then too.’

      He opened his arms. ‘Um … it must have rubbed off