The No-Kids Club Read Online Free PDF Page B

come along to the first meeting, and that was it. She leaned back in the chair. Four members weren’t bad to begin with, albeit somewhat fewer than she’d hoped. The advert had only been up for a day, though, and you had to start somewhere.
    Right, onto the next challenge: where to meet. A public place would be best; no way was Clare about to invite these strangers into her home. Perhaps a pub? A central location that wasn’t too noisy and that would accommodate their numbers until they grew large enough to rent a function room. Her brain ticked over as she tried to think of suitable pubs or cafés around Soho or Tottenham Court Road. God, it’d been ages since she’d left Chelsea. This club was just what she needed to get out there again.
    Maybe the café inside the iconic bookshop Foyles would do, she thought, perusing Google Maps. She’d spent hours there scouring the collection of medical books and knew the place like the back of her hand. The café was large, quiet, and comfy. Plus, it closed at nine, so it was ideal for a quick getaway if these people turned out to be weirdos.
    Fingers flying, Clare responded to both messages, saying she’d be waiting at 7:00 p.m. at the café in Foyles tomorrow night, her one evening off all week. It might be short notice, but what was the point of living child-free without a little spontaneity? Then she mustered up the energy to trudge to the bedroom and collapse on the downy mattress. A feeling of satisfaction ran through her as she sank into the pillow. Friends might fade away once families came into play, but soon she’d have a group of people with exactly the same mindset.
    This No-Kids Club was a great idea, Clare thought as her eyes closed. She only regretted not starting it sooner.

CHAPTER SIX
    A nna rushed down Charring Cross Road towards Foyles, where the No-Kids Club was meeting. It was already a few min utes past seven, and she hated being late. She’d spent a good half hour trying to convince Michael to come along. He’d sauntered through the door early for once, and her heart had lifted. But her attemp ts to cajole him out of his work clothes and back onto the Tube proved fruitless. Instead, he’d slumped onto the sofa, kicked off his shoes, and started playing a video game where he had to defuse a bomb before it blew up a Middle Eastern city.
    Why anyone would want to go straight from work to an equally stressful game was beyond Anna, but she hadn’t been able to tear Michael away from the screen. She’d tried to tempt him with the promise of dinner afterwards at Nando’s, his favourite restaurant. Even that hadn’t made him budge.
    For a second, she’d contemplated staying in, too. She’d already told Clare to expect her, though, and Anna had been looking forward to going out. Ever since marrying Michael, her circle of female friends had shrunk dramatically. Her own doing, really, as she was constantly turning down invitations to stay in with him.
    Staring at her husband as he fiddled with a bomb onscreen, Anna’s unease at how dull their relationship had become crept in again. And it wasn’t just their relationship. The satisfaction she’d once felt at keeping their home neat and orderly was fading, too. They just needed a bit of variety, she told herself, something different. She’d try again to persuade him out to the club next week.
    Right, better get a move on. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the March air: cold, but with a hint of springtime warmth. It wouldn’t be long until the days were longer, if not sunnier . Hopefully by summer she’d have tempted Michael from his bubble and they’d have a whole new social circle, courtesy of the club. She couldn’t wait to meet everyone.
    As she threaded her way down the crowded pavement, Anna wondered what Clare Donoghue would be like. The club’s Facebook profile hadn’t given much away, the small photo showing an attractive woman in her thirties with dark hair. Fingers crossed