Free The No-Kids Club by Talli Roland Page B

things back on the romance track.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    C lare rubbed a hand over her face, then ogled her watch in disbelief. Six o’clock already? The last time she looked, it had only been mid-afternoon. Then an ambulance arrived bearing victims from a multi-vehicle accident on nearby Brompton Road, and everything else had disappeared. Rolling her aching shoulders, she trudged to an empty room to change before heading to the second No-Kids Club meeting at All Bar One near Oxford Circus. She’d wanted to pick somewhere quiet and more off the beaten track, but she hadn’t the time. Given there were still only three members—including herself—and it was a Wednesday, not Friday, it shouldn’t be too hard to get a table.
    As she rushed to the Tube, she wondered if Nicholas had pitched the club idea to his boss. It’d be good to have some fresh blood. Anna and Poppy were nice, but they weren’t really her kind of people . And despite the continuous messages flooding her Facebook inbox, the club had yet to pick up any more real-life members. Lots of vague ‘maybe next week’ and ‘I’m busy Wednesdays ’ messages instead. It seemed London’s no-kids contingent weren’t exactly keen socialites.
    It was still early days, Clare told herself, slapping her Oyster card on the reader and hurrying down the escalator. And if Nicholas had responded out of the blue, there were sure to be others like him.
    A pang of disappointment hit at the thought of Nicholas. After he’d dropped her off on Saturday night, she’d hoped to hear from him soon. Already it was mid-week, and there hadn’t been so much as a text. But that was what she wanted: plenty of space, flexibility to do her own thing. They’d meet again soon, she was sure. Anyway, she was so bloody tired these days, she’d probably fall asleep on him.
    Thirty minutes later, Clare entered the packed All Bar One, scanning the crowd for Poppy’s petite frame and Anna’s flaming hair. Ah, there they were, hunched over a small table at the back. Anna was almost through her red wine, while Poppy was drinking —Clare squinted— was that cranberry juice? That woman really needed to let her hair down and have some fun. Clare wondered what her husband was like, and if he wanted a baby as much as she did. If not, well . . . there was bound to be tension there, she was sure.
    Speaking of husbands, wasn’t Anna supposed to bring hers tonight? By the sound of things, they were usually joined at the hip. How on earth that woman managed to make a life out of doing up a house and working part-time in a bookshop, Clare couldn’t even begin to imagine.
    ‘Hi, ladies.’ Clare squeezed past a swarthy man crammed into a suit and collapsed on a chair. Ah, it felt so good to sit after the hectic day. Now all she needed was a glass of wine and she’d be set. Her heart sank as she took in the hordes at the bar. ‘I’m going to grab a drink. Would either of you like something?’
    ‘I’ll have another Merlot, please,’ Anna said, taking the last sip of hers. ‘I’ve got to get my tolerance up for my Italian getaway this weekend!’ Her face glowed.
    ‘Oh, fantastic,’ Clare said. ‘Where are you going? The Amalfi Coast is beautiful.’ Her mind flipped back to the family holiday there the year before Mum left, heart twisting as she recalled her parents clasping hands, drinking wine on the balcony overlooking the sea. In that one moment, she’d truly believed they were happy together. To this day, she still couldn’t make the memory jive with her mum’s departure the next year.
    ‘We’re heading to Venice,’ Anna responded. ‘I’ve always wanted to go there.’
    ‘You’ve never been?’ Poppy asked.
    ‘No, it’s the first time for both me and my husband.’ Anna grinned excitedly. ‘I’m planning the whole thing as a surprise. I can’t wait to see his face!’
    ‘Wow.’ Clare raised her eyebrows, impressed with Anna’s chutzpah . Given what she’d said about her