A wall of noise greets me when I step into the coffee shop. Ooooh that's new. I haven’t been here in a while (due to mission “avoid the Whitcombs,” because this coffee shop is close to Ben and Fi's houses). They’ve clearly invested in some renovations since my last visit, and with their comfy sofa groups and trendy art on the wall they look more like a Shoreditch artisan coffee shop than the old, dated village caff I remember.
I join the queue whilst eyeing the different tables. The free one in the far corner is my target, and I pray nobody ahead of me snatches it up. I hate sitting in the centre of a room and given that that's where most tables are free I assume I’m not the only one.
The woman in front of me turns, clearly also trying to spot the best seat, and I notice the subtle logo on the T-shirt. Purr Inn. Right underneath is a name badge pinned to the material. It reads Bri—
"Oh my god, you’re Bridget!" I exclaim. She studies me for a moment.
"Sorry, have we met before?" She sounds confused, and rightly so.
"No, yes, I called your cattery a few weeks back looking for emergency accommodation for my cat. I'm Amelia." I hold out my hand. She shakes it with a big grin on her face.
"Oh, I remember. Smutty, right?" I nod enthusiastically. "Did you find somewhere for him to stay?"
"Yes, a... friend took him. Sorry, I couldn't really afford your space."
"Don’t worry," she waves me off, "I only work there. I’ve told the owner we are too expensive but she insists the rich twats in this area can afford it." I like her!
"Next!" The barista is impatiently waving Bridget forward.
After she’s placed her order I pay for my latte and croissant.
"So, do you live here?" I ask as I join Bridget at the other end of the counter where our coffees are being prepared. I'm not sure what’s come over me. I don’t tend to chat with strangers but I feel a connection with her.
"I do. I moved here a little less than a year ago after my divorce," she says, shaking the little sugar sachet in her hand.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"I'm not. It wasn't a happy marriage in the end," she shrugs, but even though she’s making light of the situation there’s something in her eyes that tells me it wasn't quite as painless as she’s making out.
"Me and my husband… ex-husband... lived in the same village in Hampshire since we started dating twenty-four years ago, so I thought I needed a change when it was all over. An aunt of mine lives in a nursing home close to here so I knew the village and always liked it... I'm sorry, verbal diarrhoea alert," she says embarrassed. "Outside of work I don't really know many people here yet."
She takes her coffee from the barista.
"Do you want to join me and my friends... who are late as usual," I grin. "We all grew up here, but I'm the only one left living in Hadlow."
"I don't want to intrude."
"Not at all," I assure her just as my coffee is placed on the counter.
We head to the table I had declared my territory earlier.
"So, how is Smutty? Great name, by the way," she grins, taking a seat on the sofa. I follow suit and immediately regret my decision. The sofa is so soft that it feels like it’s swallowing me up. Getting up with any kind of dignity will be a miracle.
"Living his best life. He loves that he now gets double attention from me and Ben, my... friend, bending to his will," I snort.
"They are little dictators, aren't they? I have a tabby one. Bella knows what she wants and she knows I'll give it to her." She giggles.
“And yet we love them,” I sigh and we both nod in agreement.
“Sorry we’re late,” Miranda interrupts us as she drops into one of the chairs. Bea waves from the counter where she is ordering their coffees.
“No problem. Miranda, this is Bridget,” I introduce them.
“Bri, please,” my new friend corrects me. Yes, I think she’s a new friend. Sometimes you meet someone and you just click.
We chitchat on how Bri and I met until Bea joins us.
“So, you and Ben snogging at Miranda’s wedding was a surprise. Are you dating?” Bea gets straight to the point.
“Friend, huh?” Bri giggles. I can feel my cheeks heat up.
“We’re not ‘dating’ dating.” Even I don’t know what that means, but I can’t really tell them that he’s just introducing me to my submissive side. And then there’s the date he’s taking me on tomorrow. So, maybe we are dating. Oh fuck! We are DATING.
“No? So, what are you? I can’t believe Ben is into that kinky stuff. Is he forcing you to do any of that shit?” Bea asks, and for a moment I think she’s genuinely concerned for me. But of course, she can’t help herself and keeps talking. “I mean, he told you he thinks you are ug… not attractive, so it can’t be that.”
“Bea!” Miranda exclaims and I shift uncomfortably in my chair.
“Well, it’s true. He was such an arse back then. I’m not sure why your husband is still friends with him.” Bea stares Miranda down before taking another sip.
“People change,” I try to interject causing Bea to roll her eyes.
“I know it’s none of my business, but what exactly happened?” Bri asks.
“She and Ben dated twenty years ago. She overheard him telling people that he was only with her until someone better came along,” Bea says casually, but it almost sounds like she is enjoying it.
“And now he hit her up on some kinky BDSM app and is dating her.” She finishes it.
"It's not that simple," I mutter.
