Page 39 of The Second Chance Supper Club

It was rather lovely having a dog to walk, Cath decided.

Having a happy, furry and inquisitive companion trotting along by your side in the country lanes and across the fields.

She enjoyed their morning stroll the next day, even finding herself chatting to Shirley at one point.

Well, no one was around to hear her, so what did it matter.

The little dog’s ears pricked up as though she knew exactly what was being said.

The hedgerows were lined with a profusion of tall white-headed cow parsley, which was softly swaying in the breeze.

It reminded Cath of the gypsophila she’d had alongside white roses and eucalyptus in her wedding bouquet.

And for the first time in a long time, that memory, one linked to Trevor and their old life, didn’t hurt so much.

There were also beautiful wild roses, all pink-and-white petals mixed in with the hawthorn hedge, their delicate scent drifting on the breeze, and lower down in the verge was a scattering of pink campions among the lush grass.

Shirley sniffed as she went, stopping here and there to investigate some interesting aroma, neither of them in any real rush as they strolled.

They crossed the stone bridge and entered the pasture fields down by the river.

A pair of mallard ducks passed them, paddling downstream, and then a large grey heron swooped over them, its wingspan impressive, like some strange prehistoric bird.

Shirley looked up too, curious. The pair of them wandered on, with Shirley on a loose lead, soaking in the sounds, sights and scents, until the dark-grey slate rooves of the village came back into sight, with its cluster of stone dwellings. Home.

Back at the cottage, Cath spotted that Shirley’s white fur was now a muddy shade of brown, all up her legs and under her tummy. She’d better have her looking spick and span for the boys’ return, so Cath decided a quick wash with a bucket of warm water was in order.

This didn’t go down too well! Out on the back patio, with bucket and sponge (kept for the car) to hand, Cath tried to keep a wriggling Shirley still with one hand, whilst trying to reach her muddy parts with the wet sponge with the other.

The terrier was not at all keen on this.

After much shifting and barking, Cath finally tied her to the patio table, and made a couple of big foamy splashes from the bucket for good measure.

‘Gotcha.’

The terrier gave a growly woof of indignation.

It was then time to towel her dry. Cath was armed and ready, bath towel in hand, as she untied the leash from the table leg, but before she had chance to scoop the little dog up, Shirley did the inevitable wet dog shake-and-spray.

Cath was on the receiving end of the shower, now standing there dripping herself.

She couldn’t help but give a wry smile. ‘Hah, touché, little lady. Thanks for that.’

As the damp duo had headed back into the house, there was a knock at the door. Cath was surprised to find Will there, with his dark eyes and warm smile fixed on her. It gave her a pleasant fuzzy feeling seeing him.

‘Hi, just wondered if you’ve heard any news from the lads?

Or if there’s anything I can do to help out at all?’

‘Hah, I needed you about five minutes ago when I decided to give Shirley a bucket bath. It was trickier than I’d imagined. I may have ended up even wetter than her.’

‘Oops, you do look a bit drippy.’ He couldn’t hold back his grin, those brown-green eyes glinting with humour.

‘Cheers …’ she answered ironically. ‘Do you want to come in? Have you got time for a coffee?’ It seemed rude to keep him hanging there on the doorstep.

He followed her through to the kitchen, where she popped the kettle on, and relayed what she’d heard from Andreas last night.

She added that she didn’t want to pester them at such a difficult time, but was hoping to get a further update soon.

Thoughts of the old lady having her operation, and all the implications that might go with that, had been very much on Cath’s mind this morning.

But the country walk had helped to calm her.

‘Let’s hope she gets through it all okay.

My mum’s eighty-five, and I do worry about her,’ admitted Will.

‘She’s pretty good just now, still in her own home with Dad.

They rattle on fine, and thankfully they’ve got each other, but I can see her and Dad getting frailer each year. It’s not easy, is it.’

‘No, it isn’t … my parents have both passed.’ Cath paused, glad that it was the happier vision of them both in their middle-aged heydays that suddenly filled her mind.

‘Sorry to hear that, Cath.’

‘Yes, Mum just a few years ago, and Dad soon after,’ she added. ‘I feel for the lads. It’s a tough time.’ Cath poured hot water into the cafetière. The aroma of coffee suddenly rich in the air.

It felt good to have Will there with her, to have someone to talk things over with.

‘Yes, it will be. Oh, and I’ve still got the lads’ gear in my car too, from yesterday. Well, except for the spare food which is now stored in my fridge. I was wondering what I should do with it all?’

‘Ah, I’d hang on to it for now. Hmm, I wouldn’t want to leave piles of stuff for them to sort out on top of everything.

’ She pictured their tidy zone above the shop, no need to mess it up, and she and Will would have no idea where it all should be stored.

‘Foodwise … if you’ve enough space, hold on to it for a day or so in your fridge.

We can then pop it back over there, ready for when they get back.

Once we get any news, that is. They might appreciate some food to hand. ’

‘Sounds a good idea. I’ll do that, thanks.’

‘Shall we sit outside?’ Cath suggested. It was another sunny day. Rural Northumberland was enjoying a lovely settled spell, which was fairly unusual – it was more common to get four seasons in one day. So, you really needed to make the most of the sunshine when it was here.

They sat on the lower patio where Cath had put out her little bistro-style coffee table and chairs set. With a damp Shirley nestled at Will’s feet – hah, the little dog was obviously still holding a grudge against Cath for the bucket bath – they chatted over coffee.

It was now past 11 a.m. ‘Wonder if Maria’s had her op yet?’

‘Let’s hope it all goes well for her.’

‘Yeah, and that she gets out of hospital and back to her care home soon.’

Will took a slow sip of his drink, then nodded thoughtfully. ‘Hospitals, yeah. Well, I’ve seen enough of them in the past few years … the hospice too.’ He looked away then, focusing on a tiny ant on the ground for a few seconds.

‘With your wife?’ Cath asked softly, with kindness in her tone. As Will had brought the topic up, she felt it was okay to ask a little more.

‘Yes, Jane … ah, she was lovely. The centre of our home really.’ He looked ahead and gave a soft sigh.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Will. I’d heard you’d been widowed. That must have been really tough … still is, I’m sure.’

‘She was a primary school teacher. The kids all loved her,’ he shared.

Oh, so his wife was a teacher, too. She must have been a kind soul, Cath mused, someone who wanted to give back, encouraging all that growth and learning, especially in those crucial formative years at primary school.

‘She was one of those caring, friendly people that everyone warmed to …’ Will continued. There were a few difficult seconds before he began again, his voice now thick with emotion. ‘She got cancer … pancreatic … about two-and-a-half years ago now. Took her really quickly.’

‘Oh, Will …’ Cath stretched a hand towards his, a brushstroke of tenderness, and then sat quietly, respectfully giving him the space he needed.

‘We didn’t have chance to do all the things we wanted. All those hopes and dreams we had went with her. And the girls … they miss her so much … me too.’ His eyes had misted.

Jeez, life was tough. Should she give him a hug at this point?

She really wanted to reach out to him, do something to show she cared, but she wasn’t sure how that might go down.

There was a bristliness about him, a protective shield there.

Despite feeling drawn to hold him, Cath also sensed that now wasn’t the right time to invade the private space of his grief.

She dropped her hand, adding, ‘That must be so very hard for you all.’

Bloody hell, losing his partner in that way must have been brutal for Will. She could feel the rawness of his loss. ‘Oh, Will.’

Coffee nearly finished, the conversation moved back to the easier ground of the cycling shop, and her latest and rather unusual online tutorial that she’d had to cut short as the A Level student was slurring his words, having evidently been drinking.

Though he was trying hard to pretend that he hadn’t, he finally confessed that it had been a mate’s birthday and they’d been out for a few beers at lunchtime.

She’d told him to go and get a large glass of water and a couple of paracetamols, and they’d revisit his lesson the next day.

At least that made Will smile again. ‘The youth of today, hey.’ He then gave her a pensive look, that she didn’t quite understand.

Gosh, it was so long ago when she’d been a young teenager, when she had all the world ahead of her. All the pages still to be written.

‘Right, well, I suppose I’d better be making tracks …’ Will got up to go.

From their heartfelt conversation before, Cath was left with the sense that they’d opened the shutters a fraction between them.

‘Thanks for listening earlier,’ Will added, as he headed back inside on his way to the front door.

‘You’re welcome. Any time … And I’ll keep you posted if I hear any more from the lads.’

‘Thanks.’