Page 22 of The Second Chance Supper Club

‘Mind you, you did an amazing job at yours that evening, too.’

‘Yes … thanks.’ Cat got your tongue, echoed within her mind. One of her gran’s old sayings. But she was finding it very difficult to concentrate and make conversation. ‘So, you’re off cycling,’ she managed.

‘Yep, heading for the hills today. Give these muscles a good workout.’

‘Right … ah, good.’

‘Have you ever cycled?’

‘No, not really, probably not since I was a teenager, anyhow.’ ‘You’ll have to give it a try some time.’

‘Yeah, maybe.’ Did he mean cycling with him? Or just a generalised comment? The fact that she didn’t have a bike might be a bit of an issue, she mused, but she didn’t bother going into that.

‘Right, well I’m looking forward to the next supper night.’ He smiled.

‘Yeah, me too.’

‘Catch you soon.’ He downed his coffee and popped the cardboard cup in the bin. Then off he whizzed, leaving her rather aflutter.

She gave herself a few seconds to settle, before going on in for her small shopping list of fresh bread, eggs and veggies. Dan greeted her as she entered the shop, with a ‘Morning’ and some brief chit-chat.

‘And where’s Andreas this morning?’ Cath asked after picking up a gorgeous-smelling crusty fresh sourdough.

‘Up in the flat … I can’t keep him out of the kitchen just now. He’s been baking and prepping for Thursday night already. You’d think he was in the final of MasterChef, or something.’ He gave a wry smile.

There was a creak of footsteps on the wooden stairs, and a call of, ‘Daniel, I can hear you … stop spinning tales.’ Andreas then appeared, in his naked-Greek-statue apron, with a ‘Morning, Cath.’

She couldn’t help but chuckle.

Andreas looked down at his torso area with a smile, realising what he was still wearing. ‘Oh, it helps get me in the mood.’

‘I’m still not sure what for …’ Dan quipped cheekily.

Andreas just shook his head with a grin. ‘Greek food and culture. Anyhow, it’s all in the planning. I like to be a step ahead. Mezzes don’t make themselves you know …’ He gave Cath a wink.

‘I’m so looking forward to it, it sounds wonderful.’ Cath felt lifted by their cheery banter.

‘We’re very much looking forward to having you all,’ said Dan. ‘It’s been a while since we entertained. I’ve missed it.’ ‘Life’s been super busy, and somehow you don’t get around to organising things. But we always used to love having people around. Foodie evenings are such fun,’ added Andreas.

That was how Cath had always felt about hosting, too. Looking after people, be it friends or family. The pleasure at watching them enjoy the food you’d made, listening to the chatter around the table, getting people together. Making new friendships too. And though (especially after seeing him Lycra-clad) she was a little unsettled at the thought of spending time with Will again, she was sure this next supper event was going to be a lovely get-together and a good night. Andreas and Dan were certainly going all out to make it so, by the sounds of it.

The day of the second supper event came around, and Cath found herself humming in the kitchen whilst making her morning coffee. She was planning on doing a bit of gardening, having made an excursion to the local garden centre yesterday. She’d bought compost, busy lizzie flowers and some herb plants, ready to fill some pots that were left on her patio: including a curly parsley, some mint, a thyme plant, plus a fragrant lavender, hoping to attract the bees. Once the herbs had settled and were hopefully flourishing, they’d be ideal to cook with, adding to the prolific sage and rosemary bushes that Reggie had left behind too.

Her mobile sprang to life, and there was Dan on the phone. ‘Oh, Cath, I’m so sorry we’re to going to have to cancel, my love.’ He sounded totally deflated.

‘Oh, is everything all right?’

‘No, not really, petal. It’s Andreas’s mother, Maria, she’s had a nasty turn. They’ve had to take her into hospital down in Newcastle. We’re off right now to see how she’s doing. I can’t see us getting back for several hours. And well …’

‘Oh goodness. Of course, and no worries about the supper at all. Another time. Send Andreas my love … and if there’s anything I can do … ?’

‘Thank you. I’ve managed to get hold of Will, but Nikki’s not answering, if you can perhaps check she’s got our message a little later on. Don’t want her turning up and no one’s there.’ ‘Yes, of course. If you can forward me her number, I’ll try again for you. You get away … and take care both. Oh crikey, I hope Maria is okay.’

‘Thanks.’

The poor things. Cath ended the call, remembering well the difficult time spent nursing her mother through the final stages of her bowel cancer, alongside the help of the hospice care. The worry, and yet trying to hide that gnawing stress as she’d held her mum’s aged hand, trying so hard to give a little light and cheer to those final days. Reminiscing about precious shared family memories; a time to laugh a little, to smile, and then privately a time to cry.

A short while later, the doorbell went, and there was Andreas on the step. ‘We’re on our way, but you may as well have this. It’s all prepared, ready to pop in the oven. Twenty minutes. It’s the starter. Seemed a shame to waste it.’ Bless him, he looked pale and drawn, not himself at all.