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aware that his comments weren’t entirely appropriate. A red flush stole over his face, and Estelle had the unusual experience of seeing Ted lost for words. There was very little that embarrassed her ex-husband.

      ‘So when’s she due?’ Estelle asked finally, breaking the awkward silence that had sprung up between them.

      ‘Mid-September. She’s about ten weeks gone at the moment, and once she’s had her twelve-week scan we’ll officially start telling people, but I wanted you to know before that. You – and Joe,’ he explained.

      Estelle nodded, wondering what was coming next.

      ‘I did wonder if it might be better coming from yourself first. Just to forewarn him, so to speak. Obviously, we’ll talk to him about it afterwards, but it’s a sensitive subject, and he can be a wee bit quiet when Leila’s around. I thought if you paved the way first …’ Ted looked at her pleadingly.

      ‘Okay, I’ll talk to him,’ Estelle capitulated, as the final whistle blew and she began cheering once again, while Ted whooped and fist-pumped the air. Joe’s team had won four-two, with Joe scoring the final goal for his team.

      ‘We’re probably embarrassing him no end,’ Estelle laughed, glad that the conversation was on safer territory.

      ‘What are parents for?’ Ted smiled back at her.

      Joe came striding across the pitch towards them, receiving hearty claps on the back from his teammates.

      ‘Nice one, Joe! Well played, mate,’ they called, as they ran past him.

      ‘You star!’ Estelle exclaimed as he reached her, pulling him into a hug. ‘Now put a jumper on before you freeze.’

      ‘Mum …’ Joe rolled his eyes, as he reached into his kit bag and dutifully grabbed a sweater. Then he bent down and unlaced his boots, swapping them for a pair of battered old trainers.

      ‘Well done, son,’ Ted grinned, ruffling his hair. ‘Are you ready to go?’

      Joe nodded, and the three of them set off walking towards the car park. They were loading Joe’s bag into the boot of Estelle’s Ford Fiesta, when Tony, Joe’s coach, jogged over towards them. A dark-haired man in his mid-forties, he had a well-built, athletic body and dark brown eyes.

      ‘Great match today, Joe,’ he grinned.

      ‘Thanks, Tony.’

      Tony nodded in acknowledgement at Estelle and Ted. ‘You’ve got a good kid here. Proper little David Beckham, this one.’

      ‘I hope so,’ Ted chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t mind his salary.’

      ‘And you’re definitely alright for the upcoming away match?’ Tony asked, addressing Joe. ‘You’re not on holiday or anything?’

      ‘I don’t think so. We’re not going away anywhere, are we Mum?’ Joe asked.

      ‘No, I’m afraid not. No luxury vacation for us anytime soon,’ she smiled.

      ‘We’ve got an away match in a couple of weeks, against Bath Under-fifteens,’ Tony explained. ‘It’s during the Easter holidays, so we’re holding it on a Tuesday afternoon. Is that okay? The bus will pick up from the car park here, and we’ll be back by early evening.’

      ‘I don’t see a problem,’ Estelle agreed. ‘I’ll be working though, so Joe, you’ll have to make your own way down here. Will that be okay? Unless – Ted, will you be around?’

      ‘Afraid not. I’ll be at work too, nose to the grindstone as usual.’

      ‘Where do you live?’ Tony asked, turning to Estelle.

      ‘I own Cafe Crumb, so we live above there. Do you know it?’

      ‘I most certainly do! I didn’t realise that was your place. You do the best Chelsea buns in all of Bristol!’

      ‘That sounds like us,’ Estelle beamed. ‘And all home-made too. Do you come in very often? I don’t recall seeing you,’ she admitted.

      ‘Well, my colleagues usually do the pastry run,’ Tony confessed, as Estelle smiled.

      ‘Ah, that explains it. I’m usually very good at remembering my regulars, and I’m sure I’d have remembered you.’

      Ted was listening to their conversation, a frown on his face. ‘So what’s happening with Joe?’ he cut in gruffly.

      ‘I can pick him up and drop him back too, if you’d like,’ Tony offered. ‘I live just off Hotwell Road, so it’s on my way. Chris, my son over there, is Joe’s age, and he’ll be playing as well.’

      ‘Well that sounds perfect, thank you, Tony. Is that good for you, Joe?’

      ‘Yeah, sure,’ Joe agreed easily.

      ‘That’s settled then,’ Tony nodded, looking pleased. ‘I’ll let Joe fill you in on all the details.’

      ‘Great. Have a good week.’

      ‘You too.’ Tony smiled at them all and strode off.

      ‘Well, I’ll see you on Thursday, son,’ Ted said, as he reached over to give Joe a goodbye hug. ‘Your mother says you’re coming to mine, while she hosts her little book group. Is that alright?’

      ‘No problem. See you then, Dad.’

      ‘Come on, Joe. Let’s get you back,’ Estelle told him, bristling at Ted’s rather patronising dismissal of the book club.

      She suddenly felt very tired, not relishing the long day of baking and nagging Joe to finish his homework that loomed ahead of her. The news of Ted and Leila’s baby had hit her harder than she expected, and it seemed to bring home the fact that she’d never really moved on after her divorce; the responsibility of running the cafe and caring for Joe hadn’t allowed for much else. It wasn’t fashionable to admit it, but sometimes she wished she had someone to take care of her, to talk through her problems with … and to take her to bed at night, she thought, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

      Her sex life had been non-existent since she’d separated from Ted, and she hadn’t relished hearing about him and Leila swinging from the chandeliers. For Estelle, it had been so long since she’d been with a man that she wasn’t even sure she could still remember how! They said it was like riding a bike, but that was something else she hadn’t done for years. Her old pushbike was sitting in the back yard, covered in rust and in need of a good oiling – much like herself.

      ‘Mum?’ Joe asked, looking at her curiously.

      Estelle glanced up, flustered, her face burning. She realised she was sitting in the driver’s seat, staring into space, a host of inappropriate thoughts running through her mind.

      ‘Sorry, love, I was miles away,’ she apologised hastily, turning the key in the ignition and reversing out of her parking space at speed. There was no point daydreaming about meeting her own Alexander Black, she told herself sharply. Joe and Cafe Crumb were the priorities in her life now, and as long as she had those, nothing else mattered.

      6

      Sue moved her hands over the rails of clothing, luxuriating in the feel of the different fabrics beneath her fingertips. There were silk blouses in bold jewel colours; crisply pressed cotton shirts in formal whites and baby blues; and cashmere sweaters in pale pastel shades.

      In spite of the fact that spring had not yet fully sprung, the shops were already stocking their summer collections, ready for when the days lengthened and the temperature rose. Sue glanced covetously at the rows of beautiful dresses: delicate floral prints in sheerest chiffon, long maxi-dresses with jewelled necklines. She watched as a woman picked one up and held it against herself, checking out her reflection in a nearby mirror.

      How lovely to be young and pretty and choosing your new wardrobe, Sue thought with a

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