Page 33 of On The Edge

18

Autumn had started to set in and the days were getting shorter. Cat decided to practice a bit of self-care, and treated herself to hot steaming baths and good wholesome food. She had always loved baking and cooking, and the autumn season in particular was the time of year she took most delight in homemade food. Johnny had left the house for a ramble along the seafront, taking a picnic with him; “I’ll be gone all day, I’m going to find myself!” He announced thespian-like as he walked out the door. Himself and Mark were chatting regularly on the phone, but Johnny had said nothing to Cat about any reconciliation, so she avoided pressing him on the subject.

Cat decided to pop into Kirkwall to stock up on food shopping and buy various local ingredients for soups, stews and pies. Kirkwall was the quietest she had seen it since moving to the island; no tourists could be found mooching around the shops or strolling around the cathedral. Cat relished the quiet, and popped into the deli, bakery and the grocers without having to queue. She strolled along the cobbled street, feeling now for the first time, like a local.

Once her car was packed with fresh produce, she made her way back to her little cottage. The familiar journey back showed changes in the rugged landscape; the colours of the hills and the drop in temperature whispered to her that autumn was coming. Autumn was Cat’s favourite time of year. She loved the change in the air, and stepping out into the crisp mornings, when the mist was just starting to clear and the birds were happily tweeting in the sparse city bushes, made her heart sing. There were very few trees on the island, something Cat missed greatly, especially at this time, when the trees were dressed in a fiery mantle. Back in Glasgow the parks would be glowing with red and orange tones; how she would love to see those now. Cat parked the car at the old gate and smiled to herself. Despite missing the urban autumn of old the cottage gave her a warm fuzzy feeling every time she came home. Perhaps she could plant her own trees in the garden? Rowan, oak and beech would make a beautiful sight, and protect the house from the sea winds. She walked around the cottage grounds, admiring her tidy work cutting back the bushes, and the other little touches she had made to really make this cottage her own.

Over the next few mornings Cat went out to forage for berries. With Johnny’s help, she collected bucketful’s of brambles found in bushes around the house, and used them in muffins, cakes and jam. She immersed herself in cooking and baking, which soon started spiralling out of control. Cakes and jam jars flooded the kitchen worktops as Cat tried to make more room for even more baking.

“Are you OK?” Johnny popped his head round the kitchen door as Cat put two bramble and rhubarb crumbles into the oven.

“Of course, why?” She turned around, her face covered in flour.

Johnny sniggered. “You have a tiny bit of flour on your face.”

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, only to spread even more flour towards her ear.

“It’s been a while since you were with a man, eh love?” Johnny leaned against the door, with a look of pity on his face.

Cat stared at Johnny in disbelief, taking off her apron and casting it on the kitchen table in irritation. “Johnny for Christ’s sake, I’m baking. I’m doing fine without a boyfriend. I don’t need one. I just need some time to myself. Jesus! As if you're one to advise!” Cat’s temper flared.

Johnny put up his hands “OK, OK, I’m sorry. It just looks a bit excessive, all this cooking!” He grabbed a muffin from the plate on the kitchen table and exited the room quietly with a cheeky smile on his face.

“It’s called baking. And I don’t hear you complaining!” Cat shouted after him. Johnny would always provoke her; he couldn’t help it. But she did have to admit secretly that she had been distracting herself. She hadn’t heard anything from Patrick since their kiss, and thought, or rather hoped, he had been trying to reach her. Maybe he had called over to the house a few times when no one was there, or maybe he went to the pub to see her when she hadn't been on her shift?

Cat decided that rather than encourage her and Johnny to gain any further weight, she had best give away the rest of her treats, before it was too late. She drove into the nearby village and delivered two big pies to the ferry men – one for them, and one to be dropped off to Billy. She took a box of muffins into the pub for her colleagues to eat, which Jim ended up consuming almost in its entirety in front of her, whilst she chatted to Angie. Finally, Cat went to see Jess in the gallery with some rhubarb crumble.

“My favourite!” Jess grinned and took the plate. She rummaged around her work desk and pulled out a fork, and without ceremony started eating the crumble there among the paintings.

“Do you not want some custard with that?” Cat laughed.

“It’s been busy here, I haven’t had time to eat!” Jess said in between mouthfuls. She sat down at her front desk and stretched her legs. “How’s Johnny settling in?”

“He’s good, loving the fresh air here. He's enjoying the island way of living.” Cat leaned on the desk.

“What? Drinking tea and pottering around”

“Yes!”

“Well, quite - who wouldn’t love that?” Jess scoffed.

“I’m just letting him relax, he needs a break to think.”

“Such a shame he’s gay...” Jess grimaced. “He is seriously hot. Hey speaking of hot men, how’s Patrick? Have you seen his flute yet?”

“He plays guitar!” Cat rolled her eyes to Jess’s taunts. Just then two ladies came in and asked to look around.

Cat smiled and invited them in, thankful for the distraction from the subject of men. She glanced at her silver watch. “OK, I’m taking over.”

Jess looked at her with an open mouth “What?”

“You go upstairs and relax. Or go for a walk. Anything. I’ll mind the gallery until closing.”

“Cat you don’t need to - ”

“I want to, not another word!” Cat pointed to the door with a matronly air.

“You’re very bossy, aren't you!” Jess walked away slowly, appearing both scared and pleased at the same time.