The Afternoon Tea Club. Jane Gilley
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The Afternoon Tea Club
JANE GILLEY
Published by AVON
A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
Copyright © Jane Gilley 2019
Cover design by Ellie Game © HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
Cover illustrations © Shutterstock
Jane Gilley asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © December 2019; ISBN: 9780008308643
Version: 2020-01-22
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Acknowledgements
Keep Reading …
About the Author
About the Publisher
It was a hot muggy Saturday afternoon towards the end of June, as the scrabble of elderly ladies, a couple of elderly gents and a few younger people ambled through the double doors of Borough Community Centre, looking around themselves at the bright, modern, carpeted reception. Some of them were moaning about missing their afternoon TV programmes; some were asking questions of each other; some stared wide-eyed at the unfamiliar building, probably wondering why their families had left them here, even though it was, supposedly, to have afternoon tea with like-minded people.
Families had dropped off ageing mothers and reluctant aunts. Some of the elderly women wanted their loved ones to come inside with them. However, Marjorie could see the families were keen to leave their aged relatives at the community centre entrance.
‘Just go inside, Amelia,’ said one family member, firmly, to a small wizened lady in a turquoise, hand-embroidered shawl.
‘Goodness, Mum, you’re going to have a lovely time in there. We’ll see you later,’ said another family member, slamming the car door – almost before they’d finished speaking.
Another lady was chatting to her elderly relative and then turned to leave. ‘View it as a new adventure, Auntie Mavis! What’ve you got to lose? It could be great fun. I’ll see you back here afterwards. Ta-ra!’
None of them stayed with their relatives to help them settle into their new experience, which was beckoning just beyond the entrance of the community centre doors.
Bit of time out for the families, Marjorie thought to herself, following the other people into the building. Gracie had offered to stay, after she dropped her mother off, but Marjorie had said no.
Being dropped off by her daughter reminded her of the day she’d taken Gracie to school for the first time. She’d been dreading it all night. Oliver had said he wasn’t interested in ‘all that’ and said she could take Gracie by herself, which she’d preferred to do anyway. But she’d had a sinking feeling when she’d left Gracie whimpering at the school gates, her hand in that of a kindly teacher who’d said, ‘Please don’t worry, Mrs Sykes. She’ll be safe and cared for here.’
Oh, Marjorie had known full well that Gracie would be much better off at school than in the awful atmosphere at home. But her worry, back then, had not only been due to the fact that she couldn’t bear to be parted from her beloved only child all day and every day. More worrying to Marjorie had been the knowledge that because she didn’t work and Oliver was at home all day long with back problems, she’d have to contend with his exacting rages whenever he felt like it!
‘Hello, ladies, gents! Welcome to Borough Community Centre!’ the young receptionist said cheerily and then proceeded to chat about the lovely weather they were having, as she guided the cautious groups of people down the corridor towards the main hall.
Perhaps they don’t get out much either, thought Marjorie, walking alongside them. She spotted Mrs Lambert from the ground-floor flat, in the block where she lived with Gracie. She’d never considered that so many other elderly people would feel as lonely as her. She imagined old folk with grandchildren to be amongst the luckiest people in the world. Mrs Lambert