Chapter 2
After finally drifting off into a surprisingly settled sleep with no dreams to disturb her – perhaps last night had been dreamy enough – Cath woke to bright-golden shafts of early-October sun peeping through her sash window.
She had coffee and hot buttered toast with a generous dollop of local strawberry jam, and then was inspired to get out into her garden for a tidy-up.
It was a fresh and lovely morning, the kind of a day to crack on with life …
And, keeping busy and physically active would definitely help keep all those confusing thoughts at bay.
Gardening hadn’t really been her thing back in Leeds.
Trevor had cut the grass, and yes, she had a few pots on the patio and did the odd spot of weeding, but her job as a deputy head and maths teacher at the local secondary school kept her more than occupied.
Since moving in to Cheviot Cottage, and inheriting Reggie’s – the elderly gentleman who’d lived there before her – overgrown but once-treasured garden, she’d enjoyed tidying it, and planting some herbs and vegetables.
Sowing parsley, thyme, onions, leeks and carrots (great for her home cooking) in the raised beds.
It had been rather wonderful watching all that had come into bloom, or sprouted up magically from the soil, during the spring and summer months.
The colours in the perennial borders changing in a gentle shift, her garden having a life and rhythm of its own.
A favourite discovery being the cobalt-blue clustered bells of the tall delphiniums, which came up from a low burst of green leaves, and just got higher and higher.
Being early autumn, the borders had now lost their flowers, bar the roses, stubbornly clinging on to their blooms, and some tall soft-pink anemones that swayed in the breeze in their corner near the back patio, but the fire-hued autumn colours and the bronze of the beech hedge took over beautifully.
Cath tackled some weeds, and did some ‘guesstimated’ pruning with her recently purchased secateurs.
A robin hopped nearby watching her work, moving in every now and then to catch a grub or worm from the freshly turned earth.
Next, after loosening the soil and then pulling out one or two by their frothy frond tops to check the size, Cath dug up a row of carrots from the raised bed, which looked to be ready.
Hmm, a warming carrot and ginger spiced soup might be the way to go with those.
One thing she loved far more than gardening, even as a small child watching and helping her mother in the kitchen, was cooking.
Glancing up, with her bunch of mud-dusted carrots to hand, she spotted her revamped garden shed – another of Reggie’s relics.
She was proud of the renovations she’d made to it this spring.
She’d repaired some of the wooden side strips, re-felted the roof, and replaced a broken glass pane in the double doors, finally painting it a weatherproofed (time would tell on that!) sage-green.
Inside, the wooden walls were now a fresh white and she’d touched up the original shelves.
She’d placed her old kitchen table in there along with a mismatched, but pretty, selection of wooden dining chairs.
A cosy six seats in all, perfect for the supper group.
The hard work had paid off, as it had proved to be a gorgeous venue for her summer suppers.
Hmm, perhaps, before the weather got too cold, they could have one last fling there?
An autumn supper club get-together? Oh, that’d be a lovely social event to look forward to, and it’d be a way of meeting up with Will again soon.
That might well test the waters between them.
But, perhaps initially should she bite the bullet and call or message him?
She’d been putting it off, as she really hadn’t known quite what to say.
After all, last night … that kiss … had been pretty remarkable.
The thought of it still flamed in her mind.
But yes, she’d definitely arrange an evening here at the cottage, and weather permitting, give the supper shed an autumnal makeover. She felt excited at the prospect, as they’d had some great social gatherings this summer, each one building the foundations of their friendship.
After tidying her tools and heading in to the cottage, Cath popped the kettle on for a much-needed cuppa.
But instead of messaging the group about this get-together, she suddenly felt compelled to contact Will separately.
She felt ready. She intended to keep it simple and thank him for a lovely evening.
And then, from his response, she might get an idea about how he was feeling post-kiss too. Eek.
Bloody hell, why was she feeling all giddy as she typed?
Thanks for a really lovely evening. x
Keep it simple. That would do.
She pressed send and waited nervously. What to do now? She clicked on the kettle again, then stared at the phone, willing a response to drop in. Had it even been read yet? She checked for the double blue ticks. Her anxiety notching up. Nope.
See. All this angst. Why was she doing this to herself? Hadn’t she learned anything? Okay, time to divert her mind. She started chopping the carrots for the soup.
And then, ping. Oh … She reached for her phone.
It was a great night. I enjoyed it too xx
The swift response and the words warmed Cath’s heart, plus his two kisses. She ‘hearted’ the comment, and smiled to herself.
Later, her mug of tea now a mere stain in the cup, and the soup simmering gently, in came another message, as though Will had been thinking on it:
Do you fancy going out for a walk later today? Say 3pm? x
That sounded gorgeous. A walk with Will.
The chance to chat. But it also felt like the first domino in a line towards dating, perhaps even coupledom.
Should she leap in? Was she ready to start again on what she had learned was a heart-wrenching road of romance?
She gave herself a few moments, gazing out of the sash window across her garden, fixing on the rise and fall of the country hills.
Her stomach a swirl. Time to pause for thought.
Oh, damn it! She’d been doing far too much thinking lately.
She couldn’t resist a smile as she typed:
Yes, that’d be lovely, thanks xx
Will didn’t seem to be wasting any time, and how wonderful was that? A walk in the sunshine with the chance to chat – and perhaps catch up on all those things they never got the opportunity to voice last night. It was low key and lovely, and sounded the perfect combination to Cath.
So why was she feeling so damn nervous?
*
Cath spotted Will pulling up outside her cottage in his blue hatchback.
Her heartbeat quickened, and before opening the door, she made herself pause to take a breath.
It was just a walk after all, she reminded herself.
It was mild for early October, so she’d popped on a gilet over her navy-and-white Breton top, paired casually with jeans.
She had plumped for walking boots, being unsure as to where they might be going.
Knowing how sporty Will was, it might well end up being a bit of a hike.
Greeting him with a cheery ‘Hi’ and a brief kiss on the cheek, which felt the safe option, but also seemed a little weird after their passionate moment last night, she slid into the passenger seat.
Despite taking that slow breath, her heart was going ten to the dozen and even the safe-zone peck gave her a zing of electricity.
He looked and smelt gorgeous, dammit: slightly tousled dark hair, the salt-and-pepper dash to the sides, those meltingly hazel-brown eyes, and his woody-amber cologne.
Had Trevor ever looked or smelled this good? She didn’t think so.
‘Hey, this is a nice idea, going for a walk. Thanks.’ She smiled.
‘Yeah, it’s such a lovely day, seemed a shame to waste it.’
‘Definitely. And you’ve been at the cycling shop today?’ She’d learned that Will had opened his cycle repair shop, after taking early retirement from his long-term career as a fireman a few years ago.
‘Yeah, early finish this aft. Been mostly regular servicing jobs, so lots of cleaning, re-oiling, new brake pads, inner tubes, and pumping up tyres. Sounds a bit boring, but it’s really quite satisfying. It’s good to think everyone’s that wee bit safer cycling about afterwards.’
‘Yeah, I can see that. Whatever you do, it’s always a good feeling to do it the best you can.
’ Casual chit-chat seemed to be the safest option for her and Will for now, though their recent kiss still lingered tantalisingly in Cath’s mind.
They’d been getting to know each other as a slow burn over these past few months, and more so as part of the social supper group.
Cath was finding this new development of going for a ‘date-style’ walk tricky to negotiate.
‘And you? How’s your day been?’ Will asked.
‘Good, I’ve been doing a spot of gardening,’ Cath continued. ‘Mostly tidying up, this time of year. It’s been such a gorgeous day – I wanted to be out in it.’
‘Exactly, hence my idea for a walk … before those nights start pulling in again.’
‘Yep, winter will soon be on its way.’ Autumn was already here.
She wondered what the colder months would be like in her new village home.
What would winter bring for her, for them?
Would her rural idyll be the same when the ice and snows came in?
An image of the two of them cosying up by her log burner popped into her head.
Oh, she suddenly felt all warm and fuzzy.
‘And the colours at this time of the year are stunning.’ Will’s words broke into her thoughts.
Off they drove out of Tilldale village and away through winding country lanes. Nature putting on its show. The hawthorn hedgerows were dappled with red berries, the leaves on the trees turning to fading greens, brushed with copper and gold. October in all its glory. Autumnal treasures.