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She was hoping to make new friends, but had Teresa misjudged her local book club?

‘Welcome! Have you read the first book?’ a serious-looking woman asked as Teresa shuffled towards a semi-circle of plastic chairs in the middle of the cafe. ‘Oh, um, yes,’ Teresa mumbled. The woman smiled, gestured to an empty seat and moved on to welcome the next in line at the first Oakford Mums Book Club afternoon. ‘Why on earth did you say you’d read it?’ Teresa inwardly chastised herself. The other women sitting around the circle worked hard to avoid eye contact.

She had clicked ‘attending’ on the Facebook group event weeks ago, but with a boisterous six-year-old bouncing off the walls, finding time to get back into reading was more challenging than Teresa had anticipated. Looking around, she counted seven other women, all keeping to themselves. I bet they all found time to read one measly book!

The book club was supposed to help her meet some new people in the area after their big move, but none of these women seemed interested in getting to know one another.

She nervously eyed her son, Daniel, in the soft play area on the other side of the cafe, his gleeful squeals echoing around the building as he threw colourful bean bags around with another small boy. At least he’s making friends, she thought…

As the women took their seats, Teresa’s anxiety began to swell. Is it possible that they all look extremely well-read? A short woman with a dark bobbed haircut made eye contact but quickly went back to flicking through pages of her book, its green cover curled up at the edges. Several women awkwardly swiped their thumbs over phone screens, heads down. Teresa scanned the blurb on the back of the book again and decided it was one of what she considered ‘smart-people’ novels, full of hidden meanings and haughty symbolism. Suddenly, the group leader took her place in front of the semi-circle, as if about to perform a monologue. Teresa’s breath felt high in her chest. Just relax. Maybe she won’t pick you…

‘Thank you all for coming today to our first ever book club! I’m so pleased you all got a chance to read this wonderful novel. Shall we start by having everyone say their name and what they thought of the main character?’

Oh no.

Sitting in the seat nearest to the door, either Teresa will be introducing herself last, or…

‘Let’s start with you,’ the woman nodded in her direction. Teresa felt a bead of sweat trickle from her hairline down the back of her neck. Her clammy fingers clutched at the book, holding it up in front of her chest like a shield.

‘Um, hi,’ she began, clearing the frog from her throat.

Everyone was staring. She readied herself to be revealed as a liar. Not just a liar, but a scatter-brained liar who can’t find time to read more than one page of a short, 250-page book. The silence was deafening. Say something!

‘I’m Teresa,’ she continued, ‘… and I… well I…’ She felt sure the women staring back at her could all read her mind.

‘I… I didn’t read it.’ Their faces slowly came to life. ‘I’m sorry, I just didn’t have time. I know that’s just an excuse, but every time I sat down to read I couldn’t get past the first page before my little one needed something!’

The group leader’s smile turned down into a thin line, and Teresa could sense her disappointment. It was just like being back at school.

‘I’m really sorry.’

The confession escaped her, making room for shame that now built in her chest. The woman to her right released a long breath. ‘Thank goodness!’ she rolled her eyes and relaxed back into her creaky chair. ‘I’m glad it wasn’t just me who couldn’t get past the first page. It was so boring!’

The other women tried to stifle their chuckles as the group leader shifted awkwardly in her seat.

‘I’m Sally and I didn’t read it either,’ another spoke up. Before Teresa could reply, the women began to confess like dominoes.

‘I’m Amara and… well, Eastenders has been really good lately…’ The rest of the women nodded in agreement.

‘I’m Michelle and my kids had two school projects due this week, so I was a little busy.’ She looked sheepishly at the group leader, who was eyeing the well-worn copy of the book resting on her lap. ‘Oh,’ Michelle said, cheeks flushed, ‘one of their projects was to jump on this book to make it look a little more used.’ Giggles broke out around the circle as the group leader tried to hide the dismay on her face, now a shade paler than before.

Teresa looked around at the laughing women. Maybe there were some friends to be made here after all.

‘So,’ she asks, ‘what should we not read next week?’