‘Guin! Come here!’
She watched as he suddenly gave chase. Guin was edging rather too close to the water’s edge and Cathy didn’t blame the man for wanting to make sure he didn’t fall in. She saw him finally catch up and put the dog back on his leash, and continued to watch as they strode off together, so briskly that they’d soon disappeared beyond a curve on the path.
Cathy walked on for another ten minutes, lost in thought, until it suddenly occurred to her that the snowy landscape and the muffled calm of the canal had been forgotten, and that for the last ten minutes her thoughts had been almost entirely taken up by the man she’d just met. She shook herself. It was one thing to be lonely from time to time but quite another to fantasise about a stranger she’d probably never meet again. Unless…
Inwardly she chastised herself with a little embarrassed laugh. Walk the canal path every day just in case she saw him there again? How ridiculous! Perhaps there was a part of her that now wished she had a man in her life just so she wouldn’t be quite so alone, but that kind of behaviour seemed a bit desperate, even to her. Love would come in its own sweet time. At least, that’s what she’d been telling herself ever since she and Jonas had gone their separate ways. And perhaps it was coming, but God, was it taking its time!
By the time Cathy got to the market building her toes were numb, despite the thick socks inside her boots, as were her fingers and the end of her nose. But her cheeks had a rosy glow and she felt as if her lungs had been given a good spring clean.
‘Morning,’ Fleur said. ‘You got here OK, then? Radio says traffic is terrible on the ring road.’
‘I didn’t get the bus so I didn’t get caught in it,’ Cathy said, taking her coat off and storing it in a cubbyhole beneath the counter, along with her handbag.
‘Wise choice,’ Fleur replied. She’d already made two mugs of tea and handed one to Cathy. ‘You walked then? Nice morning for it.’
‘I thought so.’ Cathy took the tea from her, fingers tingling as the heat spread through them. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Can’t complain.’ Fleur pulled a hanky from her pocket and gave her nose a gentle blow. ‘How was your class?’
‘Oh, it was lovely!’ Cathy said.
Fleur smiled. ‘I told you it would be.’
‘I mean, I was nervous but everyone was so nice and encouraging and they all seemed to enjoy it. Lots of them took the photocopies of the recipes I gave them too, and they’re all going to try some of them at home, even before next week’s lesson. I told them to take photos if they could and to let me know how they got on with them – you know, if they were straightforward enough, easy enough to do.’
‘I’m sure they’ll be fine…’
Fleur stopped and looked expectantly at her.
‘What?’ Cathy asked.
‘Where’s our cake? I’ve made you tea… now you have to uphold your end of the bargain.’
Cathy laughed and reached beneath the counter for her bag. She took out a smallish Tupperware container.
‘Bloody hell – is that all we’re getting?’ Fleur asked.
‘Sorry, but everything else got eaten or taken home,’ Cathy said.
Fleur gave a sigh of mock impatience. ‘Alright then, so I’m an afterthought. Soon forgotten for all your new friends. Let’s see then, what have you managed to salvage for me? I’m so hungry I’d eat dog biscuits if that’s what you’d brought.’
The mention of dog biscuits briefly brought to mind Cathy’s encounter with Guin, the handsome Alsatian, and his rather more handsome owner, but she dismissed it instantly, that little voice in her head chastising her once again.
‘It’s only banana loaf,’ Cathy said.
‘Only banana loaf? That’s my favourite! OK, so you’re forgiven.’
Cathy opened the tub and Fleur reached in for a slice.
‘You want to know what did happen yesterday?’ Fleur asked as she munched.
Cathy frowned. ‘What?’
‘That man came to the stall again for more flowers. Either his wife is the best wife on the planet or he’s having an affair.’
‘Jonas?’
‘The one you used to go out with?’
‘Yes. He came again?’
‘Uh-huh. Not that I’m complaining – it’s all money to me. But he did look very disappointed that you weren’t here.’
‘Did he?’
Fleur reached into the tub that Cathy had completely forgotten she was still holding for another slice of cake. ‘Oh, there’s two left after this – I’ll let you have those.’
Cathy gave a vague nod, though she wasn’t really listening and she didn’t really care about the cake after all, even though she’d worked up enough of an appetite during her walk in that she’d really been looking forward to it.
Don’t be stupid, she told herself sternly. Expecting there to be anything in this is even more ridiculous than fantasising about a man you’ve just met walking his dog. But even so, she had to wonder just what – if anything – Jonas was up to. Why come in again? Hadn’t they said everything that needed saying already? Cathy had felt their previous two encounters to be nothing but awkward, only stirring up unwanted feelings and bittersweet memories that she was perhaps better off without. Surely he must have felt the same way – and he had a wife now too, of course, which was even more reason to stay away. So why come back?
And then Cathy was struck by a sudden horrible epiphany.
‘Don’t worry,’ Fleur said, popping the last of her cake into her mouth and fixing Cathy with a shrewd gaze. ‘If he comes in today I’ll serve him, and if you want to scoot off I won’t mind.’
Cathy nodded. She didn’t entirely know how she felt about this new development but she knew that no good could come of developing feelings for Jonas again. To that end, the best course of action was probably to avoid him. If she’d felt more comfortable with him – as she once had – she might have taken him to one side and explained all this, but that wasn’t going to be possible now their relationship had changed so much. No, she decided, the best course of action here was to stay out of his way. Which was fine and right and would be a lot easier if he would only stop coming to the stall. Cathy wanted to stay out of his way, but it was beginning to look as if – for whatever reason – he didn’t want to stay out of hers.
Thirteen
When Erica had messaged to see if Cathy wanted to meet up at Ingrid’s again, Cathy had jumped at the chance. They were sitting in there now, amongst the fairy-tale décor, Cathy sipping at a creamy mocha.
‘Why don’t you join a dating site?’ Erica asked, looking over the rim of her cup at Cathy.
Cathy shook her head. ‘I thought about it and others have suggested it too. But I’m not comfortable with the idea – you never know what kind of weirdos you’re going to meet if you put yourself on one of those.’
‘You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the papers.’ Erica reached for her drink and used the biscotti at the side to swirl the cream round before taking a bite of it. ‘Everyone on Tinder isn’t an axe murderer.’
‘But you don’t know anything about them,’ Cathy said. ‘They might not be telling you the truth about themselves and you’d have no way to know until it was too late.’
‘You could say that about everyone you meet in real life though,’ Erica said. She raised her eyebrows. ‘You sound like my brother; that’s the sort of thing he’s always saying. I ought to get you two together.’
Cathy didn’t know how to reply to that so she took a mouthful of her drink instead. She was beginning to wish this particular conversation hadn’t begun. But it had, and it was her own fault for bringing up Jonas. But she’d needed to get it off her chest, and even though she’d talked at length about the situation to Fleur, she still didn’t feel as if she’d fully explored it enough to put it to bed. The fact that Jonas kept coming to the stall troubled her and she didn’t know what to make of it – she’d hoped Erica might have some insights that wo
uld help. But so far, she’d just called him a stupid bastard and said that he ought to concentrate on his wife, and then proceeded to tell Cathy that she deserved better than that.
‘I think he must be the unluckiest bloke alive when it comes to women,’ Erica continued. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with him; I know he’s my brother and I’m bound to say so, but he’s a really lovely bloke. It doesn’t seem right to me. He’s about your age too.’
Cathy gave a nervous smile. How was she going to get out of this without offending Erica? While she had started to feel the lack of a man in her life and thought it might be time to start dating, she wasn’t about to get railroaded into dates with her friend’s brother, especially considering the damage it might do to her friendship with Erica if things ended badly.
But then Erica glanced at Cathy and perhaps realised her mistake because her expression was troubled for a moment.
‘Not that I’d want to tell you who to go out with of course,’ she said.
‘I’m sure your brother is nice,’ Cathy said. ‘I mean, I’m sure we’d get along just fine – at least, if he’s like you then we would—’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Erica said, smiling. ‘I wouldn’t fix you up on a blind date or anything. In fact, I don’t think either of you would thank me for meddling. Matthias would probably just tell me to mind my own business if I mentioned it to him. And, come to think of it, last time I did fix him up with a woman I worked with, she ended up two-timing him, so…’
Cathy gave a tight smile and dipped her head to her drink.
‘Going back to your problem, though,’ Erica said. ‘I wouldn’t give Jonas the satisfaction of thinking you cared. Pretend that it really doesn’t bother you that he keeps coming to your stall. He’ll get fed up soon enough and stop – they always do. He probably just wants to know that he can still have an effect on you.’
Erica fiddled with her teaspoon. ‘Maybe he’s a bit bored and seeing you has reminded him of a time before he was bored. Don’t think for a minute he’d be leaving his wife to come back to you.’
‘Oh, I never thought that,’ Cathy said fervently. ‘I was just confused – I mean, that’s exactly it, isn’t it? He’s married now, and he says he’s really happy, but he keeps turning up. I’m sure it’s probably just what you said. I expect if nothing more happens he will stop. Anyway, I don’t know why he’d be bothering himself about me – I don’t look like I used to when we were together… I’ve put on a load of weight for a start.’
‘So? You’re still pretty.’
‘I don’t think—’ Cathy began, but Erica cut across her.
‘Don’t you dare say you’re not because you’re too fat! What’s that got to do with anything? Bigger women can be just as attractive – sometimes even more so! You’re lovely… Repeat after me: I am lovely!’
Cathy gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘Maybe not just now,’ she said. ‘But thank you – that’s kind of you to say.’
‘It’s not kindness; it’s just stating a fact. Anyway, whatever’s going on, have you thought about just telling him to back off if it bothers you that much?’
‘Oh, I couldn’t do that,’ Cathy said. ‘It seems so arrogant for a start; assuming that he’s coming to the stall just to see me. He might actually be coming for flowers.’
Erica raised her eyebrows so high there was a danger they might shoot off her forehead. ‘You really think that? There are plenty of other florists in Linnetford!’
‘Of course there are, but he might just like ours now that he’s been there.’
‘If anything – given your history – I’d have thought just knowing you were working there would be a reason to stay away, regardless of how nice your flowers might be.’
‘I had thought that to be honest,’ Cathy conceded. ‘And most men don’t notice any difference,’ she added. ‘A flower’s a flower to a bloke. Most who come to our stall wouldn’t know a carnation from an aspidistra if their life depended on it. They just point at what they want and call it all flowers!’
‘Ah, now that’s where I have to disagree,’ Erica said. ‘Matt would know.’
‘Matt?’
‘Matthias. My brother. He’d know that sort of thing. Into art and everything.’
‘Is that what he does? Is he an artist?’ Cathy asked.
‘Actually, he’s a physiotherapist. He works mostly with cardiac patients – you know, getting them back on their feet after heart attacks and that sort of thing,’ Erica said with real pride in her voice.
Cathy found herself staring at Erica. Maybe she’d been too hasty with her earlier dismissal of him. Maybe he was exactly the sort of man she’d like to go out with. He certainly sounded like a bit of a hero – and sensitive and intelligent too.
She shook the thought away. Her original judgement was the most sensible one. There was no telling the awkwardness that a disastrous date with a friend’s brother might cause, and she was beginning to value Erica’s friendship too much for that to happen.
‘His job sounds amazing.’
Erica nodded. ‘I think so… though I’d never tell him that because his head might get big and we already have one troublesome sibling in the family without creating another one.’
‘That’s your sister?’ Cathy asked.
‘Michelle – Tansy’s mum. I feel for that girl because God knows she gets no attention from her mother.’
‘Is that why she was staying with you the other day?’ Cathy asked.
‘She stays with me a lot. The trouble is, Malc’s not so keen so that causes friction.’
Cathy remembered her mentioning something about that before. ‘Why isn’t he keen?’
Erica shrugged. ‘Personality clash, I suppose. He used to be alright with her, when she was little, but the last few years he’s got more and more impatient. Thinks she has an attitude.’
Cathy thought Tansy had an attitude too, as had plenty of others at the cookery club, but she wasn’t about to say so to Erica, who was clearly fond of the girl.
‘So they don’t get on at all?’
‘Tans doesn’t exactly help herself. Malc’s fairly easy-going, but she just knows how to push his buttons. Like the other day, she left the bathroom light on in the middle of the night so we didn’t know it had been burning for hours until we got up the next day. Now, we’re all guilty of the odd lapse, but the fact is it’s not the first time and he’s asked her umpteen times to make sure she doesn’t do it. Not only does she keep doing it, but she doesn’t even apologise when he brings it up. If anything, she makes him sound unreasonable. I think he’s perfectly entitled to be pissed off if I’m completely honest but I can’t come down on his side.’
‘Why not? If he’s right, why can’t you come down on his side? Surely you can explain it to her?’
‘I can and I do.’
‘So what does she say?’
‘She says she’s not doing any of it deliberately.’
‘I suppose you can’t say a lot to that.’
‘Exactly. I’m sure it’s just a difficult phase.’
‘For Tansy or Malc?’
Erica gave a quick grin. ‘Both of them. I can only hope they get it out of their systems and become grown-ups soon so they can start to get along again – it would certainly make my life easier.’
‘I can imagine. Poor you.’
‘Poor Tansy really. I’m alright – it’s Tans who has all the real problems.’
‘Like what?’
Erica paused. But then she shook her head. ‘You don’t want to hear all that right now… So, what are we making next class?’
It was obvious that Erica didn’t want to discuss it any further and although Cathy was burning to know what Tansy’s real problems were she didn’t push it. While they were becoming good friends, they weren’t quite at that point yet.
‘I thought we might make Victoria sponge.’ But then Cathy clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘I didn’t tell anyone that, did I? They won’t know what ing
redients to buy!’
‘What do you need for a Victoria sponge?’ Erica asked. ‘Can’t be that much, can it?’
‘Well, no, it’s pretty basic actually… Flour, butter, eggs, jam…’ Cathy was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Maybe I could buy enough for everyone to use. It probably wouldn’t cost that much.’
‘Put a notice out on social media to let people know what they have to bring rather than footing the bill yourself. You are starting a Facebook group for it, aren’t you?’ Erica asked, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.
It wasn’t that obvious, because Cathy hadn’t thought of it at all.
‘Why don’t I start one for you?’ Erica added, guessing by the look on Cathy’s face that her question was going to get a negative answer.
‘Oh, would you?’
‘It’d be too late to do anything about it for this week but if we let everyone know at the next lesson they can join then. That way you’ll be able to give out essential information in plenty of time. It’d be a nice way for everyone to keep in touch outside the lessons too.’
‘I can’t imagine Dora or Iris using it,’ Cathy said doubtfully. ‘Or Myrtle.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ Erica said. ‘Some of the older folks spend more time on social media than the youngsters these days. Let me deal with all that and I’ll have a word with everyone next time. If the regular church ladies don’t want to join it won’t matter – they’re pretty easy to find. We can always just leave messages at the church for them – Iris is there almost every day as far as I can tell.’
‘That would be brilliant!’ Cathy said. ‘Thank you!’
‘Not a problem. Glad to be pitching in and it’s really not such a big deal.’
Cathy beamed. It might not have been a big deal to Erica but she appreciated it more than she could say. Whether it was a big task or not, it was the sentiment behind it that meant the most. If only she’d found a friend like Erica when she’d been caring for her mother, it might not have been such a hard and lonely road.
Cathy's Christmas Kitchen: A heart-warming feel-good romantic comedy Page 10