Page 16 of The Second Chance Supper Club

‘It’s been really lovely. Thank you, Cath.’ Will was polite, and offered a farewell handshake. Is this now a truce? It felt as though they’d drawn a line under the car park incident at least, and thank heavens for that. She needn’t be afraid of bumping into him again in Kirkton, which had crossed her mind every time she’d needed to visit the local supermarket.

‘Our turn to host next,’ called out Andreas, as he crossed the cottage threshold into the cool starry night air. ‘We’ll have you all back soon to our little nest above the shop.’

‘Definitely,’ added Dan. ‘Mind you, we’re going to have to plan carefully to match up to Cath’s fabulous hospitality.’

‘Ooh, the challenge is on.’ Andreas grinned.

Dan gave a cheeky wink. ‘You do know he has one of those nude-Greek-statue aprons. I’m just warning you! We got it in Halkidiki in a tacky gift shop last holiday.’

‘It’s my favourite item of clothing. Don’t spoil my fun,’ Andreas countered, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

‘Well, don’t let me stop you …’ Nikki cackled. ‘And another evening being wined and dined sounds bloody good to me. Just give it a few weeks, so I can get Kev used to the idea of child-sitting again.’

‘Of course.’

‘That sounds great,’ added Will politely. ‘Thanks for letting me join in with you all. The food was delicious, and it’s been a wonderful change of scene.’

Cath suddenly pictured him alone at home, somewhere up the street. The home that was missing his wife. She felt a pang of empathy.

The supper guests trooped off merrily up the pavement, leaving Cath to her empty house and the last of the clearing up. To be fair, everyone had helped clear the final dishes and glasses down from the shed, but she’d insisted they leave the washing-up. A yawn escaped her lips, and she realised just how tired she was, a heady mix of adrenaline, a full-on day (two weeks, more like), nerves, a drink or two, and the last couple of hours in relax mode, now kicking in. She made an executive decision – the rest of the tidying could wait until morning.

Despite feeling shattered, it took her a while to come back down emotionally. Lying in bed, her mind was running over the events of the day, and pulling out threads of conversation and images from this evening. The caffeine from the last round of nightcap coffees was also playing its part. She felt far too buzzy to sleep.

The supper group were indeed rather lovely. Hah, even grumpy Will had had his positives. Yes, new friendships were being formed, and it was good, exciting. Yet everything was so early on in her new second-chance life that it felt raw somehow. These new relationships seemed fragile, she realised, like the unfolding of brand new buds. Opening up her home – and herself – this evening had left her feeling strangely vulnerable.

Chapter 12

In contrast with the hectic two weeks she’d spent getting ready for the supper club, the next few days were dreadfully quiet. Cath tried to keep herself busy doing the usual household chores, several online tutoring sessions, and pottering in the garden, but sitting there on her own of an evening, a sense of gnawing loneliness crept up on her. Of course, she knew she couldn’t keep socialising every day. Everyone was busy and back at work. Even dropping by the shop, hoping for a catch-up, hadn’t quite panned out. By chance, she’d managed to hit a particularly busy spell at the village stores with several people queuing at the counter, so Andreas and Dan, whilst superefficient and friendly, had no time to stand and chat.

The supper group’s working hours meant she couldn’t even ask the lads or Nikki in for a daytime coffee, and well, she didn’t want to over encourage Will – not that he had given any vibes he was looking to spend any more time in her company either. Other than a polite thank-you note popped through her letterbox the day after the supper, he seemed to be too busy for her also. Life as a single lady wasn’t quite what she’d pictured it might be. No one but herself to cook for, clean for, do laundry for … who’d have thought she’d miss that? The flip side of this newfound freedom seemed to be loneliness.

As she was sitting with a cup of strong coffee and this sense of unease, wondering how best to shake off these dark feelings, she got a call. Oh great, some human contact.

It was a blast from the near past: Helen from Roundhay once again.

‘Helen, hi, how are you?’ Cath tried her best to sound chirpy. Out of all her old friends, Helen was probably the one she least wanted to chat with just now.

‘Oh, I’m fine thanks, busy, busy. But more to the point, how are you doing? You didn’t call back after our last chat, and well, I was starting to get a bit worried. How have you been? How’s village life?’

‘Yeah, fine, all good.’ Unfortunately, Cath’s voice resonated a flatness from her recent confusing emotions.

‘You sure you’re okay? You don’t sound quite yourself, I have to say. I know it’s been a tough time for you. And then, sailing off to the back of beyond like that. Well, it must be hugely different. We’ve all been thinking about you.’

Gossiping might be more like it, Cath mused.

‘Well, it’s certainly very different from life back in Roundhay, I suppose.’ She’d swapped the beeping of horns and the hum of traffic for birdsong and tractors. And exchanged the constant round of social invites in the city– afternoon teas, suburban suppers, charity this and that – which at times could almost feel too much, for new buds of friendship (which were naturally growing rather tentatively, just yet). ‘But yeah, I’ve been making a few friends … starting to get to know some people in the village.’ She didn’t get a chance to tell her friend about the supper club and how it had gone, as Helen was straight in with her own dinner party details.

‘Oh well, that’s good. They’ll be nothing like your old friends here though, I bet. We miss you. Gosh, we had the most a-mazing dinner party Friday evening at Trish and Terry’s. Spoilt us rotten they did, with champagne and cocktails. Fliss got a bit tipsy and we had a bloody hoot playing Twister. Then, we were out at the theatre last week, with Emma and Tony. A new take on Macbeth, it was brilliant. Ah, there’s always so much to do in the city, isn’t there?’

Why did this sound like Helen was pulling the oh-so-cool city card on her, implying life there just had to be so much better? Her tone sounded superior, or was that Cath just feeling tender? It was the life she’d left behind after all. The life and the city buzz she once loved.

‘And have you been out and about much?’ Helen continued, undaunted by the limited response. ‘I bet it’s been fun having a whole new area to explore.’

Blimey, this conversation was beginning to feel like twenty questions. Cath hadn’t been that far at all actually, still settling herself into the village and her new home. ‘Ah, yeah, been out a bit. I took a drive through to the coast the other day.’ The white lie slipped from her lips. The trip to the coast was actually a few weeks ago, when she’d first got here. It had been nice down by the sea, but without someone to say, ‘Wow, look at that stunning view’, and discuss the merits of either fish and chips or going into a nice cosy pub, it had ended up feeling a bit flat. She’d sat in the dunes with a cone of hot, salty chips in the end, which were rather good, and then taken a stroll along the sands. But it felt far emptier than when she’d been there on family holidays. Memories had flooded in of her and Trevor and Adam, back in happier days, tarnishing things somewhat. ‘On your own, I suppose?’ Helen cut in, still fishing, hoping to pin Cath down on her new life.

‘Well, yes.’ Did she expect her to be heading out with a new fling, or on some Saga-style bus tour?

‘Oh, Cath,’ Helen managed to sound disappointed in her. ‘Bless you. With everything that’s gone on, I more than expected you to take a step back for a while. That was quite understandable, after all. But well, you can’t keep hiding away in your country cottage like a hermit. Now’s the time to get back out there, show Trevor what he’s missing. Time to crack on with life.’