Cathy picked up her cup again. For all her bravado, she couldn’t deny that the thought of Matthias still being in love with Sidonie had rattled her. It didn’t matter that it had come from Tansy and that it might well be a lie to stir up trouble – Tansy’s favourite pastime, apparently – the prospect of any nugget of truth in it was unnerving. What if he did still love his ex? It would explain why none of his relationships since then had worked out.
No! Cathy gave herself a mental shake. That wasn’t it at all. A man who looked at Cathy the way he looked at her couldn’t still be pining after someone else. If his relationships thus far since Sidonie hadn’t worked out, it was because they hadn’t been the right relationships for him.
She looked down at her mug to see it was almost empty. As it so often did, the act of clutching a warm cup seemed to soothe her in times of crisis or uncertainty, and she decided quickly to make another one.
‘Do you drink tea?’ she asked Tansy.
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m going to make another one – do you want one too?’
‘If you want.’
‘Do you take sugar?’
‘Two.’
Cathy set about making drinks, the kitchen now silent once more. She’d seen which cupboards Matthias had gone to for the cups and teabags so it wasn’t too difficult to locate them again. When she was done she put Tansy’s on the table next to her and sat down with her own.
‘Did you do any cooking before you came to the club with Erica?’ she asked.
‘I cooked my tea at home most nights.’
‘But not cakes?’
‘Mum doesn’t buy in food like that. She mostly gets frozen and stuff in tins.’
‘You know, if you’re resourceful you can make good cakes with things out of tins.’
‘Maybe I’m not resourceful then.’
‘What I mean is I could show you.’
‘I’m never going home again so it doesn’t matter now.’
‘You’re going to live here permanently?’
Tansy looked up. ‘Why not?’
‘Won’t your mum miss you?’
‘She won’t care.’
‘I think she might.’
‘You don’t know her!’ Tansy snapped. ‘Stop thinking you know what’s going on here because you don’t!’
‘I want to help, that’s all. If I knew more about it maybe I could.’
‘So you can get me out of the way and have Matt all to yourself? You’re just like her!’
‘Like your mum?’
‘She got what she wanted – I’m out of the way and now she has the house for just her and Shane.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Cathy said. ‘But that’s not what I want. I think your uncle would choose you over me every time.’
‘He wouldn’t.’
‘He’s doing all this for you – what does that tell you?’
Tansy pressed a peeled carrot to the grater and started to scrub viciously. Cathy watched her. Everything about her was spiky and full of resentment, and, right now, she just didn’t see any chink in that armour. And even if Cathy could breach it, how on earth would she press home that advantage when she was so hopelessly out of her depth?
She was beginning to realise that this whole mission was foolish. She’d wanted a breakthrough with Tansy, a way to make her understand that not everyone was out to get her, that they could be friends, but she didn’t have kids and she hadn’t been a teenager herself for a very long time. She doubted she’d been your average teenager, even then. She had no clue how a girl of Tansy’s age thought or felt, even the ones with stable home lives and sunny dispositions. Perhaps the best course of action here was to sit and wait for Matthias to come back and resume his role as go-between. Maybe the best outcome Cathy could hope for was a cold tolerance from the girl who looked set to be around for the foreseeable future.
Tansy reached for another carrot and, as she did, her arm caught the mug sitting next to her. The contents flew out, soaking everything. It dripped from the edges onto the floor, it soaked into Tansy’s leggings, it speckled the bowl of flour and spread a steaming puddle across the wood of the table.
Cathy leapt up to find a cloth, but when she came back to start mopping, she saw that most of it had tipped over her handwritten recipe book, the very same book she’d spent hours working on – the one that had all those precious connections in its pages.
‘Oh!’ she cried, desperately trying to mop the worst from it, although the pages were already mushy and some of the writing fading. She glanced up at Tansy, tears pricking her eyes. ‘Why don’t you watch what you’re doing?’
‘It’s just a book,’ Tansy snapped.
‘It’s not just a book!’ Cathy snapped back. ‘You know how hard I’ve worked on this!’
‘You can make another one…’
‘I could make another one but it wouldn’t be this one!’ Cathy cried. ‘That’s not the point! I could make another one but that’s not the point… Why don’t you get it?’
‘I just don’t see what the big deal is.’
‘No,’ Cathy growled, turning back to her mopping, ‘you wouldn’t. You don’t get the point of anything unless it’s about you.’
‘What?’
‘You’re not the only person who can be hurt, you know. You’re not the only person who’s had a hard life. You think you’ve got problems with your mum – try giving up everything to look after a mum who only goes and dies on you anyway! Try being left alone by your mum and not even being able to phone her to ask if you can come home! Try having nobody to run to!’
Tansy’s face contorted into a grimace, and for one moment Cathy thought she was going to launch a counter-attack. But she just ran from the room, and a second later Cathy heard the front door slam shut.
As she began to cry she felt warm breath on her hand and looked to see Guin next to her. She’d almost forgotten he was there, he’d been so quiet in his basket. Perhaps even he’d had more sense than her – enough to know when he ought to keep his head down and stay out of the way.
Giving his head a quick fuss, she sniffed hard and turned back to her cleaning. The book was beyond salvaging now and there was no point in wasting any more time on it. Perhaps, if she dried it out, it might look better later, so she took it to a radiator and perched it on top. Then she went to the sink to look for a damp cloth and some detergent.
As she was searching she heard the front door slam again, but this time it was Matthias coming in. He appeared at the doorway of the kitchen and the smile on his face faded instantly as he saw the mess.
‘What happened?’ he asked, though still with humour. It wasn’t until he really looked at Cathy’s face that he realised something more than just a clumsy spillage had happened. ‘What’s happened, Cathy? Where’s Tansy? Did she do this? Has she upset you?’
‘It was an accident.’
‘Then why are you crying? Why isn’t she helping to clean up?’
‘I… I lost my temper. It was silly… the tea… it went all over my recipe book and I was so annoyed, I couldn’t help it.’
‘So rather than take it on the chin she ran out? That’s about right.’
‘It’s not her fault; if anything it’s mine.’
‘No, it’s not yours. Did she even try to apologise?’
‘I didn’t really give her the chance.’
Matthias strode across the room to take Cathy in his arms. ‘She might be my niece and I might be very fond of her, but even I know she can be a complete pain in the backside. When she comes back I’ll have a word.’
Cathy pushed away from him and rubbed her eyes. ‘No, I’ll talk to her. I made her feel as if her situation wasn’t worth anything and that isn’t right. I made out like she had no right to feel sorry for herself and that wasn’t right either. Her feelings are as valid as anyone else’s and if they hurt then that’s valid too, no matter whether you think her situation is worse or better than anyone else’s.’
‘She
has to be told or she’ll never change. Just look at your book. She knew how much that book meant to you.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s just a silly book. I can write it again.’
‘That’s not the point.’
‘It’s exactly the point. Eventually we all have to move beyond our past; we can’t let it define us. Maybe that’s what the book was for me, and maybe if I don’t have it I can’t keep clinging to that past.’
‘It’s not a bad thing to keep some connections though. Remembering and honouring the past doesn’t have to mean you’re trapped there.’
Cathy looked up and she felt that maybe Matthias wasn’t talking about her book now. Was he talking about his connection to Sidonie and Beau?
‘I feel terrible about shouting at her,’ Cathy said.
‘I’ll go and find her – I think I might know where she’s gone. There’s a brownfield site up at the back of the old factory and she goes to see some horses that run loose on there. I reckon that’s where she’ll be now. It’s only a couple of minutes away on foot, and even if she’s not there I don’t think she would have got much further than that anyway.’
‘Horses?’ Cathy blinked. ‘Whose horses?’
‘No idea. They just run about on there. There’s a fence so they can’t get out but nobody seems to know who owns them. I think maybe that’s why she likes them so much – I think secretly she feels they’re a bit like her.’
‘If anyone should go to her, it should be me.’
‘I’ll bring her back and you can talk.’
‘What if she says she doesn’t want to come back and talk to me?’ Cathy shook her head. ‘If I go then she’s got no choice but to talk to me.’
‘She can run off again.’
‘She can – that’s true, but I can at least try. Let me do that at least. I’ll clean up the rest of this when I get back.’
‘Tansy can clean the rest of this,’ he said firmly.
‘So this field,’ Cathy said, ‘how do I find it?’
Twenty-Nine
It took only a matter of minutes to get there. Cathy’s mind raced as she walked, wondering if she would find Tansy there, wondering how she’d open this conversation, whether she could say the right thing. Part of her wondered why she was bothering at all. Tansy clearly didn’t want to engage, and it almost felt like the harder anyone pushed to help her, the harder she pushed back against it. Perhaps she was beyond anyone’s help now. More importantly, perhaps she’d pushed it so far almost nobody wanted to help now. Cathy only knew that she wanted to try for Matthias’s sake, if not for Tansy herself. It was clear that he cared for her – as Erica did – and that to be a part of his life meant Cathy would have to be a part of Tansy’s in some capacity too, and it was better that they understood each other than constantly being at war.
The path that ran along the back of the old factory was overgrown but still just about visible. It had once been a railway line that had taken goods in and out of the factory compound, but the cuts of the sixties had closed it and seen the sleepers and tracks stripped away so that now only the ghost of the route remained. Most of the trees and shrubs that shrouded it from view were bare and dripping from a melted frost, but some were evergreens, leathery leaves still hanging from sturdy branches. Cathy was forced to move them out of her way every few yards, one occasionally catching at her foot where she hadn’t noticed it snaking over the path. She’d seen a couple of joggers, but apart from that it was deserted. Matthias had wanted to come with her but she’d asked him to give her at least ten minutes alone with Tansy, and then he could come to find them. She had the ringer volume on her phone whacked up high so she could hear it if he needed to call her and had assured him that if she was safe anywhere in Linnetford, it was probably going to be there.
The path gave way to a clearing and almost immediately Cathy saw the field. The horses were shaggy-haired and hardy-looking, with stocky legs and broad shoulders. Some were piebald with striking black and white markings, some with the same in brown, some almost entirely black or dark bay with the odd strip of white. There were perhaps a dozen of them wandering amongst the coarse grass of the site. Cathy wondered why someone would leave them to live here – it was hardly lush or sheltered – but someone had.
A second later, Cathy made out Tansy, standing at the chain-link fence and looking in. She had her back to the path and Cathy walked as quickly and as quietly as she could. If Tansy saw her coming she might not wait around to find out what she had to say.
But as she drew closer she could see that there was a horse at the fence and Tansy had her head close to it, staring intently at something. It looked as if her hands were working at something too, though Cathy couldn’t make out what. She looked to be concentrating so hard that Cathy wondered if she would have heard her coming no matter how much noise she’d made. In fact, she jumped as Cathy spoke.
‘Tansy…’
Tansy spun around to face her. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to talk to you.’
‘I don’t have time for that.’
Cathy frowned as Tansy turned her back and started to fiddle at the fence again. Then Cathy realised that she wasn’t fiddling at the fence but at the horse’s mane. Somehow, it had got caught up and it looked as if Tansy was trying to free it.
‘Stupid…’ she mumbled.
Cathy could see that the horse was getting restless, starting to pull away, as impatient as Tansy was.
‘Need some help?’ Cathy asked.
‘No. I’ve got it. You’ll scare him.’
‘He’s scaring me,’ Cathy said. ‘I’m terrified of horses. I mean, I like them but they make me nervous.’
‘That’s stupid.’
‘It’s because they’re so big.’
‘These aren’t even big – they’re like ponies. They’re just doing their thing on here, not bothering anyone.’
‘What’s happened there?’ Cathy asked, nodding at the horse, though Tansy was still concentrating on her task.
‘It’s stuck on the fence.’
‘I can see that but how?’
‘I don’t know – it was like that when I got here.’
The horse blew out impatiently and stamped a hoof on the ground.
‘It’s getting pissed off,’ she said. ‘Going to pull a load of hair out.’
‘I think that’s the only way he’ll get free,’ Cathy said.
Tansy turned to her with a scowl. ‘That would hurt! Would you like it if I pulled a load of your hair out?’
‘No, sorry. I only meant I don’t know how you’re going to get it free – looks really stuck to me.’
‘Must have got it caught and then made it worse wriggling about or something. I don’t know how.’
There was a sharp whinny and Cathy could see that the horse was definitely getting more distressed. It was trying to pull away from the fence more violently now.
‘Shhh,’ Tansy whispered, a hand to the tip of its nose to calm it. ‘We’ll have you out in a minute.’
‘Keep him still,’ Cathy said, moving closer and rooting in her handbag as she did. She produced a manicure kit and took out the scissors.
‘What are you doing?’ Tansy asked, glancing down at them and then at Cathy.
‘I’m going to cut him free.’
‘I thought you were scared of them.’
‘I am. Just hold him still and I’ll take as little hair off as I can. If we can get the main knot then the rest might just come away.’
Tansy didn’t argue; she just moved closer to shield Cathy’s approach, whispering soothing words to the horse as she did.
Cathy’s heart was beating wildly, her legs suddenly weak. When she’d told Tansy that she was terrified of horses she hadn’t been lying. They’d always scared her – their size and their power – no matter how many times people had told her they were mostly gentle animals. And she could see why others loved them because she could appreciate they were beautiful… just as
long as she was looking from a distance. It went against her every instinct to reach out now and grab the tangled mane. She worked as quickly as her trembling hands would allow, all the time the sound of the horse’s heavy breaths and the smell of its hair filling her head. She could hear Tansy talking to it, gently and calmly, and a little of that calm seemed to rub off on her too because, ordinarily, she’d have run a mile from this situation but today she carried on cutting.
‘There!’ she gasped finally as the final strand came free. She backed away from the fence and watched as Tansy gave the horse’s nose a final rub and stepped away too. The horse paused for a moment and, whether it realised it was free or not, started to walk away too as if nothing had happened.
‘There’s gratitude for you,’ Cathy said, brushing her hair away from her face as her breathing slowed again.
To her complete and utter shock, Tansy smiled. Not the usual mocking smile, but a warm and genuine one.
‘You’re pathetic,’ she said.
Cathy gave her a quick grin. ‘Don’t you think I know that? I hate that I’m so scared of something so daft.’
Tansy shrugged. ‘You’re scared of what you’re scared of.’
‘What are you scared of?’
‘Lots of things.’
‘Listen…’ Cathy said, serious now. ‘I’m sorry about before. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.’
‘I ruined your book.’
‘It’s just a book – not even a good one. I can write it again; it doesn’t matter.’
‘It won’t all be ruined, will it?’
Cathy shook her head. ‘I’m sure it won’t be.’
‘So you might only have to write a bit.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll bet Iris will let you have her photocopy.’
‘Not every recipe is in there but I think I could get most of them again.’
Tansy was silent for a moment, her gaze on the horse now further up the field. ‘Has Matt seen it?’
Cathy nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Was he mad?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You have to be kind to him, you know.’
‘I hope I am being.’
‘Sidonie wasn’t.’
Cathy's Christmas Kitchen: A heart-warming feel-good romantic comedy Page 24