Of course, Matthias was an unknown quantity, but Cathy allowed herself the luxury to imagine that it could go somewhere. He’d definitely been interested, and her hunch had been borne out by the barrage of not-so-subtle hints that Erica kept throwing at her. It might have been that her friend was excited, or just happy to be proven right about how perfect their pairing might be, and she said a lot of things that Cathy took with a pinch of salt, but the one bit of advice that she had given, about being certain Cathy would find her brother on the canal path this morning with his dog, was one that Cathy was certainly going to heed today.
Her hair had been left down today and the glossing spray liberally applied. She’d put on some make-up again too, enough to make it worth the effort but natural enough to look as if she wasn’t trying too hard. The best coat had come out, as had some little diamond stud earrings that she hadn’t worn since the last wedding she’d been to, which had been at least five years ago, if not longer. It was a lot of effort for a walk to work, but unlike other days when she felt it might have been a bit wasted, today she enjoyed the process and hadn’t minded getting up a bit earlier to do it. Today, she felt as if it might just be appreciated.
She held on to that hope as she walked the canal path. The weather was being kind to her too; though it was cold, the sun was out and the ground had dried so she wasn’t constantly slipping on hidden patches of mud. She walked with the sun on her face and a spring in her step, the frosty air of the morning filling her lungs, her eyes on the path ahead, constantly searching, bursting with nervous anticipation. However, it was almost twenty minutes later before she was rewarded. She’d just about given up, Matthias and his dog nowhere in sight, before she heard panting from behind and turned to see Guin racing towards her. Just as he reached her, he veered from the path and went haring across the scrubland with the sort of joyful abandon that only a dog could display. Cathy stopped and broke into a broad smile as Matthias strode in his wake.
‘Good morning,’ he said, catching up with her.
‘It’s a nice one,’ Cathy replied, immediately groaning inwardly once again at her boring response.
‘It is,’ he said. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘Work,’ she said.
‘Ah. Erica says you work at the market.’
‘French for Flowers…’
He looked blank.
‘Clearly you don’t buy many flowers,’ she said with a laugh. ‘It’s the name of the florist.’
‘Not for a while,’ he admitted with a sheepish look. ‘Nobody to buy them for.’
‘You could get them for your mum.’
‘I could, but if she can’t eat it she doesn’t usually want it,’ he said.
Cathy giggled.
He gave a suddenly awkward smile. What would he have said, she wondered, if she’d told him that she’d walked this path hoping to see him even when she hadn’t had to go to work? Or that there was a far shorter route into work and she could have taken that too, only she’d wanted to see him here? Would that have sounded a bit desperate?
Maybe, she decided, and left her original reply to stand on its own.
‘So she’d love you,’ he added.
‘Your mum? Would she?’
‘Well, you can bake. Erica says you’re pretty good too, like Bake Off standard.’
Cathy blushed. ‘Oh, I don’t think I’m anywhere near that good. I do enjoy it, though. I suppose that makes me sound a bit boring.’
‘Not at all. I’ve often thought I’d like to take cookery lessons but I think I might be one of those people who are unteachable. I can open a tin of beans or set the timer on a microwave as well as anyone, but that’s about my limit.’
‘Nobody is unteachable,’ Cathy said.
He smiled, holding her in a gaze that made her legs suddenly feel like jelly. ‘Would you put money on that? I think I might be the man to prove your theory wrong.’
‘I bet I could teach you,’ she said, feeling all at once incredibly shy and uncharacteristically bold.
‘Now, there’s a challenge,’ he said, laughing again. ‘You may live to regret that.’
‘I don’t think so,’ she said with a coquettish look, feeling bolder by the second.
‘So you walk this route every day?’ he asked.
‘Sometimes I come this way for a change,’ she said. ‘There is a quicker route. If I’ve got time I prefer to come along here, though. The other way is through the estate and it’s not as nice.’
God, Cathy wanted to punch herself right now. She was so bloody boring she was even boring herself, but she couldn’t think of anything interesting to say now that she needed to.
‘Weird, isn’t it?’ he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘How things turn out. Us chatting out here and then it turning out that you’ve known my sister all along. What are the chances…?’
‘It is,’ Cathy said. ‘I really like Erica. I’ve only just got to know her, really. She came to a charity coffee morning at St Cuthbert’s – that’s how we met.’
‘Oh yeah, she’s always doing stuff like that. A sucker for a charity event is Erica. Not that I think that’s a bad thing, of course. It’s just nice if you have time for that sort of thing.’ He paused, and suddenly looked mortified. ‘Not that I’m insinuating you have nothing better to do, or anything…’
‘I can’t say that I do, to be honest,’ Cathy said, smiling. ‘I wasn’t offended – I didn’t even think anything of your comment. I do have a lot of time on my hands – at least, I did. Less so these days with the cookery club and other things.’
He gave her a warm smile, and then his gaze searched the field for a moment. Cathy realised that he was checking where Guin was, though she’d completely forgotten about him. It was a good job she didn’t have a dog to walk right now.
When he found the handsome figure of his dog, he seemed satisfied and turned back to her.
‘Look, this might be forward and if you say no I won’t be offended, but… oh, you know what, it doesn’t matter.’
‘You want a cookery lesson?’ Cathy asked with a grin, knowing full well that he wasn’t talking about cookery lessons.
‘I was thinking more of a drink,’ he said. ‘You drink, don’t you?’
Cathy resisted the impulse to ask if she somehow looked like the sort of person who didn’t drink. The fact was, she didn’t, but that was only because she had nobody worth drinking with and drinking alone at home was just no fun at all.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I drink. And yes, I’d love to have one with you.’
He broke into a broad grin, his hazel eyes alive with humour. With the sun on him now, his hair looked more gold than brown. Cathy could still see that resemblance to his sister, but less so today. Today he looked more like himself and no one else. Perhaps that was a good thing, because he wasn’t just Erica’s brother anymore; he was Matthias, the man Cathy was going to have a drink with, the man she’d probably be dreaming about tonight, the man who’d got her more excited than she’d been in years.
‘I guess you’ll need my number,’ she said.
At this he looked sheepish. ‘Actually… oh, God, this sounds weird now but it’s not meant to be. I wanted to call you last night and I phoned Erica and… well, she gave me your number. But she also said you’d be here this morning and she thought this might be an easier way to ask you out.’
‘And was it?’ Cathy asked, smiling; she didn’t find it weird at all.
‘No,’ he said, laughing. ‘It was so much harder in person. That’s the first and last time I take advice from my sister.’
Cathy giggled. ‘Then I’d better get your number,’ she said.
He pulled out his phone and dialled her number. When the call came through she answered with another giggle. ‘Hello.’
He grinned as he spoke into his own phone, a second’s delay on the line making him come through in stereo as Cathy heard his natural voice too. ‘Hello, Cathy. Can I take you out tonight?’
&nb
sp; ‘Yes, you can,’ she said.
‘Then I’ll pick you up at seven.’
‘Ooh, decisive and direct, I like it,’ she replied, still talking to him through her phone. ‘I’ll be ready.’
‘Great.’
He put his phone away and Cathy quickly stored his number in her contacts. She looked up to find him gazing at her. For a second she wondered if he’d kiss her – he looked as if he wanted to. She wanted him to.
‘Shall I walk the rest of the way with you?’ he asked instead. ‘I mean, you don’t mind?’
‘I don’t mind at all if it doesn’t take you out of your way.’
‘It does, but I’d love to.’
Cathy smiled. ‘Then I’d love it too.’
But by the time they’d reached the end of their walk together and Matthias turned to take Guin home, Cathy realised with a faint sense of panic that she was going to be late for work. She’d completely lost track of the time and had no idea how it had taken them so long to walk a path that ought to have got her there in plenty of time, but somehow it had happened. Perhaps it was a good sign for the date they’d arranged, but that didn’t stop her being a little worried about what Fleur might say.
She needn’t have fretted. Instead of waiting for an apology from Cathy for being late (only ten minutes but Cathy hated to be tardy), Fleur had many apologies for Cathy. First, that the tea she usually made in readiness for her arrival had gone cold. She wanted to make Cathy another but Cathy wouldn’t hear of it. Second, that they’d had a rather large delivery of poinsettias and that she’d need Cathy to do a bit of heavy lifting for her. Third, that Jonas had come by again the day before and that Fleur felt she ought to have confronted him but hadn’t. Cathy was glad that she hadn’t, because if it had been perfectly innocent on his part (and it was conceivable, knowing the Jonas she’d once been with, that he really was just trying to give his business to Fleur as a favour to Cathy), then that would have been a very awkward way to lose a customer. Fourth, that, for the first time ever, Fleur didn’t love the thing that Cathy had baked for her.
‘It’s a bit bready,’ she said. She didn’t exactly spit it across the room but she swallowed it with an apologetic grimace. ‘You know, not really a cake.’
‘Not to worry,’ Cathy said cheerfully as she wrapped the rest back up and put it away. She rather liked it and she’d happily eat the rest herself later with her lunch.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Cathy said, laughing. ‘I’m not going to be upset every time I make something you don’t like. You can’t like it all.’
‘That’s the thing, I usually do. It’s just this…’
Fleur pulled a comical face and Cathy had to laugh again. ‘Maybe Irish food just doesn’t do it for you.’
‘Is that what it is?’
‘Two of my cookery club girls gave me the recipe from their Irish great-grandma. I thought it sounded interesting.’
‘It’s interesting alright.’
‘Anyway, I’m going to take it as a good thing that you didn’t like it.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘Well, now I know that when you say you like something—’
‘—which is everything else—’
‘—yes; now I know that when you say you like it you really mean it.’
‘Did you think I didn’t mean it?’
‘Well, I had wondered if you were just being kind.’
‘Honestly…’ Fleur frowned. ‘When have you ever known me do anything just to be kind?’
‘All the time!’ Cathy said with another laugh. ‘You pretend to be scary and tough but underneath it you’re just a cuddly toy rabbit.’
‘Hmm,’ Fleur said, trying to keep the frown up but grinning through it.
And there was a fifth apology, one that made Cathy laugh like a giddy schoolgirl. Cathy explained why she was late, and she told her all about Matthias and how he’d asked her out, and Fleur squealed so loudly with excitement that all the nearby traders whipped their heads round to look, causing Fleur to issue an immediate request for forgiveness.
‘There’s no need,’ Cathy said, a smile that could have powered the heating in the market building. ‘I’m pretty happy about it myself.’
‘I thought you’d never get there,’ Fleur said. ‘It’s about time you got yourself a nice man.’
‘Steady on… It’s only a first date and there are no guarantees.’
‘But I have a good feeling about this… From what you’ve told me, it sounds promising. You must think it does too – look at the start you’ve had. It’s not like he’s sidled up to you drunk in a bar and asked for your number…’ Fleur grinned. ‘The best romances always start like this.’
‘Like what?’
‘You know each other first. You already have a feeling about what sort of person he is and he has the same about you, so you have that head start when you set out on your date. All that awkwardness where you try to figure out whether he’s a dickhead or not is already out of the way. You also know you like his sister, so he comes from a good family and that has to be a good sign, doesn’t it?’
‘But,’ Cathy said, trying to throw some calm into the mix, ‘he does also have a sister who sounds like a nightmare and a niece who is very hard to like. So what if he’s like one of them?’
‘You already know he’s not like his niece because you liked him the first time you spoke to him. As for the other sister… I think you would have been able to tell by now too. You must have a good idea, otherwise you wouldn’t have said yes to him, would you?’
Cathy allowed herself another soppy grin. ‘I suppose not.’
‘So,’ Fleur asked, her gaze resting for a moment on someone who was inspecting the Christmas wreaths displayed at the front counter. Seeming to decide that they could look for a moment, she turned back to Cathy. ‘Have you got something to wear?’
‘I don’t even know where we’re going,’ Cathy said, her grin fading now. ‘Oh, heck, I don’t know what kind of thing I need to wear! I don’t know if it’s going to be smart or casual… Fleur – what am I going to wear?’
‘Maybe you could send him a text to ask where he’s taking you? Or even suggest somewhere you want to go?’
‘Yes, I should do that. Fleur, you’re a genius!’
‘I don’t think so but thanks.’ Her gaze went to the browser at the front of the stall again. This time, the old lady seemed to want their attention. ‘You do that,’ she added, ‘I’ll be back shortly to see what he says.’
‘I’ll make a start on the poinsettias too,’ Cathy said.
‘You’re a love,’ Fleur called back as she went to the customer. ‘Whatever would I do without you?’
Twenty-Two
How do you feel about the theatre?
Cathy read the text again with a smile. She loved the idea of the theatre for a first date. She hadn’t been to see a play for years and it seemed so much more romantic and different from going to the cinema or a pub, but it had given her a real quandary over what to wear. It was only a small local theatre, Matthias had explained in subsequent texts; he happened to know one of the supporting actors and they’d offered him tickets to the show any night he wanted. He thought maybe this was a pretty good night to take them.
Cathy had asked what was on, though she didn’t really care as long as she was out with him, but when he’d said it was Twelfth Night she was even more excited. She’d never been to see Shakespeare performed live before – in fact, the one and only Shakespeare play she’d ever seen was a movie version that had Mel Gibson in it, and she’d been forced to admit that she hadn’t really understood a lot of it. At least it sounded as if Matthias would know what was going on tonight, and if she got a bit lost he didn’t seem the sort of man who would make her feel silly as he explained it to her.
But when she turned her mind to her choice of outfit, she realised that she just didn’t have a clue. Did she go formal, or was it more casual than that
? If it had been a pub she’d have had just the thing, and if it had been something posh she had an old dress she’d worn to a cousin’s wedding a few years before – a little dated, but a fairly classic style that would work. But this was somewhere in between, she guessed. She didn’t want to go for the dress because she didn’t want to feel as if people were staring at her for overdoing it, but she didn’t want to look scruffy and embarrass Matthias. She’d asked Fleur for advice, who’d told her that he wouldn’t care what she had on. Then she’d phoned Erica, who’d said pretty much the same and then spent the remainder of the conversation telling Cathy how excited she was and how she could tell that her brother really liked her. All that was lovely to hear, of course, and filled Cathy with an even greater heightened anticipation, but it didn’t help solve the outfit conundrum.
Currently laid out on her bed she had four choices: a pair of black wide-legged trousers and a silk shirt; a lace tea dress that was a bit pulled in places but always made her feel cute when she wore it (not that often these days); a pair of smart jeans and a chiffon top; and a maxi dress that was perhaps a bit summery for this time of year but maybe she could get away with it if they were going to be inside for the majority of the time. She wasn’t really happy with any of them, but as she hadn’t had time to find anything during her lunch break at work or go to the shops afterwards, something from this pile was going to have to do.
Out of desperation, she went to the wardrobe and got out the fancier dress she’d worn to her cousin’s wedding. It was royal blue and had a calf-length chiffon skirt, the halter-neck top studded with embroidered, sequin-embellished flowers. Was it too fancy? Did it matter if anyone else thought she looked overdressed if she felt good in it? And, if she was very honest, she wanted to make the sort of impression on Matthias that would cause his jaw to drop – anything less than that would feel like a failure. She wanted him to be proud to walk into that theatre with her.
Cathy's Christmas Kitchen: A heart-warming feel-good romantic comedy Page 16