Page 58 of The Second Chance Supper Club

Waking up with a dead arm and a cricked neck, Cath pulled on her dressing gown – one of the few things she’d packed – and crept into Adam’s room, moving towards his bed to check his breathing, which was rhythmic and steady.

His eyes gently closed. That was good. The room smelt sour, stale; she’d give it a good spruce up once he’d got up.

Actually, she thought, as she quietly retreated, leaving him to rest a while longer, she’d give the flat a damned good clean, right through.

Yes, she’d draw open the curtains, crack open windows, and go and buy some rubber gloves and a load of cleaning products.

She had a strong idea there wouldn’t be much useful – other than washing-up liquid (and perhaps even that was hopeful) – under that kitchen sink.

Adam finally woke to a thumping headache, a scrubbed kitchen, and a plateful of buttered toast served with strong coffee and orange juice.

Cath had gone for a stroll and found the local corner shop with its basic metal shelving, harsh electric strip lights, mounds of crisps, fizzy pop, chocolate bars, several rows of cigarettes and vapes in lurid colours behind the counter, and a few store cupboard basics, including yes, some cleaning products.

A world away, Cath had mused, from Tilldale’s characterful village stores and the friendly faces of Dan and Andreas.

‘How are you feeling now, son?’ Her tone was calm, understanding.

‘Pretty shit … there’s a marching band in my head right now, my own fault, I know.’ He looked up at her. ‘Sorry, Mum …’

‘Hey, I’m sorry I hadn’t realised you were feeling this bad, sooner.’ They shared a hug.

They chatted about how things had been since Adam had got back from his travels, talked about the split between her and Trevor, and the heart-wrenching break-up of their family, being open and franker than ever before.

And Cath got him to promise that he’d at least go and see a doctor, talk things over with a professional, how the feelings of depression had developed.

Get help if he needed, even though he assured her it was a one-off, just a crazy low point.

Cath decided to stay another night here with Adam in the flat, despite his protestations that he’d be all right now.

While he had another snooze mid-afternoon, she found an alternative mini-market and bought enough basics to make a large pan of chicken curry, a cottage pie, and a pasta bake, along with some Klip It–style containers to conveniently batch up the meals.

Her nurturing instinct strong; feeling the least she could do was leave him with some good homecooked food.

It served to keep her busy too, shift her mindset from the dark places she’d found it lurking ominously last night.

Adam offered her his bed, now covered in freshly washed and ironed linen, for the following night, but she said she was fine – her back protesting as she spoke the words.

She wanted him to have another good night’s sleep, be it at her own discomfort, lying easily about how it had been quite comfy on the sofa really.

That evening, with his flatmate still away, they’d talked some more. Adam was made up with all the homemade suppers, but Cath also warned, ‘You’ve got to start looking after yourself too, Adam, I can’t be down here …’

Or could she? Is that what he needed, to know he had that support nearby?

Someone to pop in and chat with. She wouldn’t be wiping his nose for him, or too interfering, of course, just there for him.

Could she up sticks and come back … back to her old life in the city …

for his sake? She was sure her old school, or another locally, would have some kind of role – maths teachers were always in demand, or supply teaching, something at the uni … her mind was on a roll.

‘Adam, would you rather I came back down this way? Be honest with me … I could sell the cottage and look to get a flat or something down here?’ But even as she was saying the words, trying her best to sound upbeat about the idea, in case this was what he really needed right now, she felt all wobbly.

What was she promising? Despite all the recent blips, she’d really started to feel that Tilldale was her home.

And her friendships with Andreas, Dan, Nikki, Lily …

and gorgeous Will, her Matty. Her heart was taking the knock already, just at the thought of it.

There’d be no way of finding a way forward for her and Will if she upped and left.

But she’d do it. If Adam’s answer was ‘yes’. She’d give it all up for her son’s wellbeing, to keep Adam happy and safe.

‘You’d do that? Really?’

She nodded, feeling the tears well just at the thought of it, and fighting them back down. ‘Look, you don’t have to answer right now, you’ve had a difficult enough time. Just think on it, Adam. Then we can chat again soon.’

The next morning, with flatmate James now back in the apartment, and the space already cramped, Adam insisted that it was fine for his mum to go.

She sensed he needed some personal space to start processing what had happened, too.

Though it was hard, she knew she couldn’t wrap him up in cotton wool, that she’d have to trust him to move on with his life.

With a few careful moves in place – the doctor’s appointment made, an open conversation on the phone with Trevor advising him of recent events and for his joint support to be there for their son, plus Cath having a quiet word with flatmate James about Adam’s recent drinking binge, making sure he also had her mobile number if need be – she felt happier to head on home.

He seemed a nice lad to be fair, one of Adam’s old uni friends, and someone she could trust.

The offer was still on the table of her moving back down, which she reminded Adam about just before she left.

The thought of him being able to drop in for a Sunday dinner was a nice one …

though there were lots of other implications that she was uneasy with, but she’d said it now, and she was adamant she wouldn’t let Adam down again.

On his threshold, which didn’t seem quite so gloomy now, they shared a heartfelt hug. Adam finally pulled away. ‘Thanks, Mum, for everything.’

She smiled warmly. ‘It’s never any bother, Adam. Call me any time you need. You take care now, yeah … Let me know how you get on with the GP. Oh, and there’s a cottage pie left in the fridge for you and James.’

‘Ah, brill … cheers. You’re a star.’

And with that, she thought of the stars and the clear night sky of Tilldale … and Will. And took a slow steadying breath.

‘I’ll ring when I get back.’

‘Okay.’

‘Love you, son.’

‘Love you too, Mum.’

It was a tricky goodbye. She felt all wrong, and yet she knew it was right that she had to leave. He had to learn to find his feet again, too. She had a feeling there’d be lots of calls over the coming days, just to check in.

Cath set off in her Mini – which yes, had a bloody parking ticket – negotiating the busy streets, the buses, traffic lights.

Strangely, it all felt chaotic, noisy … and yet she’d lived here for almost thirty years.

Something then drew her to head not straight for the motorway, but to go back to their old street, the family home, where they had raised Adam.

It hadn’t all been bad, after all. She might even call in on Helen, she mused … but that might be a step too far for this visit. And, she really didn’t want to have to explain Adam’s recent blip, or have to tell any white lies.

There it was: the road sign for Limestone Lane.

Her insides squeezed a little. And there was Jan and Mark’s place, next door to Helen and Geoff, their blue Tesla still parked in the drive.

It really hadn’t changed much, but she hadn’t been away for long, after all.

And there, a smart semi-detached red brick house.

She slowed. Oh, at least they were keeping the garden tidy.

Some other family’s place now. She felt an odd pang for the what-might-have-beens, and for the good times they’d once had.

But looking at the house, well, it was just a house.

A well-presented decent-sized semi on a nice suburban street …

but it truly didn’t feel like hers anymore.

Nothing much had changed here on the street where she used to live, and yet everything had changed … inside her.

Her heart had moved to Northumberland. This city, this road, the house, already felt alien.

And though she had promised to move back, to find a new place to stay, a base for herself here in Leeds if that’s what Adam really wanted, she knew if she had to do that, a huge part of her would be left in Tilldale and Cheviot Cottage.

It made her feel a little sick to be honest.

With that, she pressed on the accelerator with the merest of glances in the rear-view mirror – just to check if the road was clear. She couldn’t wait to get home.