Page 18 of The Second Chance Supper Club

Helen had taken flight the next morning, back to her suburban nest. Cath was relieved that they had at least smoothed out some of the weekend’s furrows between them, and they had left things on a polite footing for the future, both coming to an understanding that they were in very different places right now.

Back at the shop later that morning, Dan and Andreas were full of apologies.

‘Morning, Cath.’

‘Hi, lads.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry we couldn’t help your friend with her medication yesterday.’ Dan looked concerned.

‘Ah, don’t worry, Dan, it’s no problem. You’ve probably done me a bit of a favour, actually.

I have a feeling my friend Helen won’t be rushing back to the country life, or my cottage, any time very soon.

’ She gave a knowing grin. ‘And you know what … I think I’ve realised that’s not such a bad thing.

We get on fine to be fair, but she’s a bit of a blast from the past. And obviously very much a townie. ’

‘Yeah, she did seem rather, how can I put it , full-on .’

‘Demanding,’ added Andreas.

‘Hah, don’t I know it.’ Even though they’d accepted their differences, and had their heart-to-heart last night, Cath began to wonder what tales of village life and ‘country Cath’ Helen would now be going back with.

What gossipy news was being passed back to Trevor and the old crew?

And then she realised that she didn’t particularly care, which was a very satisfactory revelation indeed.

‘Well, sounds like it’s been a stressful visit for you. Andreas, this is a sure sign that Cath is in need of some suppertime solace … a further supper soiree in fact.’

‘Oh, yes, agreed. You made us so welcome the other evening. We had a truly wonderful time. And Dan’s right, we must arrange another supper club soon. We’ll host this time. It’ll give us a chance to pamper you.’

‘Sounds perfect. Just let me know when …’ Cath found herself smiling, delighted that their supper group was going to continue.

‘Same old gang?’ asked Andreas. ‘Shall we ask Nikki and Will again? It seemed to work well, didn’t it?’

Cath was nodding. They had all got on fine. And she had no real reason not to invite Will. Just because they’d had the car park bump, and the fact he looked a bit like the lead singer in Wet Wet Wet, which had set her slightly off kilter. And, how did you start to explain that?!

‘Well, we’ll not get away with not asking Nikki,’ added Dan, smiling. ‘She’s desperate to get out and about again. She was asking about a supper re-run just yesterday when she called in, in fact.’

Cath browsed the shelves as they chatted, choosing some fresh fruit and veg, and a crusty baguette, along with a chunk of local Doddington Dairy cheese, to make some cheese and chutney sandwiches for lunch.

At the counter, Andreas was already planning.

‘So, how does a week’s time sound? Dan, get the diary and we’ll check dates with you now, Cath. ’

‘Okay. Well, yes, great.’ Cath really didn’t need to check hers; other than a dentist’s appointment and her tutoring, she didn’t really have anything else to work around. Christ, she was close to being a recluse. Perhaps Helen did have a point … not that she’d have admitted that to her.

‘Now then, give us a couple of days that suit you best, and we can moot them to the rest of the gang.’

Messages had been sent, and a supper soiree ‘chez Andreas and Dan’ was arranged for early June, just a week away.

Andreas was to be lead chef, apparently, and was buzzing about planning his recipes and tempting tipples.

It was going to be ‘a night to remember’ with a Greek Cypriot theme, so Dan enlightened Cath in the shop a couple of days later.

And, except for her mixed feelings about Will, which she’d have to learn to live with or risk spoiling the new friendship group, Cath couldn’t wait.

There was a bicycle perched outside the village shop, later that week, as Cath was about to head in.

Out came Will, oh , in full Lycra, with a takeaway coffee to hand.

She couldn’t help but notice his toned muscles through the clingy material, especially those in the upper thigh area – well-defined cyclist’s muscles.

She swiftly lifted her gaze. ‘Oh … hi.’ Her throat felt dry all of a sudden.

‘Hey, Cath. Nice to see you. How are things?’

‘Good … yep … fine.’ It was odd that Mr Grumpy was now Mr Chatty … and jeez, Mr Lycra. She didn’t know quite where to look.

‘I hear we’re on for another supper evening. The lads have just been filling me in on all the details. Sounds like we’re going to get spoilt.’

‘Yeah.’

‘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.

‘Ah, thank you. But you shouldn’t be worrying about that now. Get yourselves away.’

‘We are. We’re off … right now.’

‘Aw, take care.’ Cath managed a brief one-armed hug, holding the dish in the other hand. ‘Now go.’

Andreas turned and nipped back to the car, where Dan was waiting in the driving seat, the engine still running. They both gave a little wave as they left, moving off with a rev of acceleration.

She watched them go, feeling a lump rise in her throat.

Daft man, thinking of her and the supper group in the midst of his crisis, when he could have just popped the starter in the fridge.

But it was a lovely gesture. She peered under the silver foil lid to find what looked like a feta bake that had been drizzled with some gorgeous-smelling oils and …

she sniffed again, the sweet aroma of honey.

Strands of fragrant rosemary were there too.

With tears in her eyes, she wondered if it was a dish that Maria might have once cooked for Andreas and her family.