Chapter 25
A morning working in the shop was just the salve Cath needed, after that extremely difficult evening.
She’d arrived home last night feeling frazzled, gutted for them all how things had turned out, and rather unsure as to how to best to help Will.
The situation with his girls was delicate to say the least. And whilst she knew no one had done anything wrong, she couldn’t help but feel like the bad guy in all this, the one who was stirring things up.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the hurt in poor Sophie’s eyes as she’d walked in.
Cath’d messaged Will last night before going to bed, with a Hope you are both okay. Not an easy situation for either of you. Sending love, C xx All she’d got back was xx; Will was evidently finding the whole episode tough. Cath understood that sometimes words were just too hard to choose or voice.
And today she was helping the lads out by covering their shift until mid-afternoon.
Andreas and Dan hardly took any time out for themselves, and with all the volunteering for the hall lately, even their precious Sunday afternoons had been filled.
So, hearing they wanted to have a day in Newcastle this Saturday to do a bit of Christmas shopping, Cath had jumped right in and offered to mind the shop.
She’d done it over a weekend back in the summer, plus the odd Sunday morning, and felt far more confident taking the reins nowadays.
She was there at seven-forty-five sharp, ready to open up, armed with the key and alarm codes they had left her. First up was sorting the morning newspapers and popping them on the shelves, then she’d check the fresh fruit and veg display was well topped up.
Her first customer of the day was Kenneth. ‘Morning, Kenneth. Crikey, you’re in early.’ It was eight o’clock on the dot. Opening time.
‘Didn’t sleep so well. I don’t know, I can nod off in the day just like that and at night, it’s such a battle at times. I think I miss my Dot there next to me. Two in the bed was far more fun.’ He gave a cheeky wink.
‘I bet you’re ready for a cup of tea, then?’ Cath offered, knowing his routine after the last few shifts she’d done. ‘Milk and two sugars?’
‘That’s my girl.’ He took up his usual seat – the one that was next to the counter, ready for anyone in need of a rest and in want of a natter.
Cath went out to the back of the stores to pop the kettle on. She’d join the elderly gent in an early cuppa, as it was bound to get busy thereafter.
They just had time to talk about the latest cricket match in New Zealand, a bit of a belter apparently, with England all out for four hundred and twenty-seven, and about his concerns for his old cat, Tabitha, who was starting to lose her once-beautiful tortoiseshell fur and looking a bit patchy, before a flurry of early customers came in for their morning croissants, deli bakes and weekend treats.
Andreas had left a tray filled with freshly baked goodies, with more supplies in the store area, knowing what Saturday mornings were like.
As she served the pastries out, chatting to the customers as she went, the honey-oozing nutty baklava was calling her name.
Perhaps she’d keep a slice back to go with her late-afternoon cup of coffee when she’d inevitably crash out ready to put her feet up, back at the cottage.
When there was finally a lull, Cath managed a sip of her now lukewarm tea. Kenneth was still in situ, looking very content. He’d been making conversation with those in the queue. It was like he was the shop’s mascot. They all seemed to know him.
‘Oh, Kenneth, by the way, have you heard about our Christmas lunch event on the twenty-second of December?’ Cath asked.
‘Oh yes, it all sounds rather wonderful. My name’s already down. And I’ve been telling everybody about it.’
Cath spotted Dan’s A4 list poking out from a shelf under the counter.
She took it out and scanned the names. Yes, of course, there right at the top, in pride of place, was Kenneth.
There were several names recorded under his, then the batch added as eighteen in total from the care home, and below those now a further one, two, three, four, five …
six. Her maths teacher mind turned out a result in seconds, ooh, a total of forty-one so far, with just over a week to go!
They had their work cut out, for sure. Her stress levels notched up.
Tomorrow was Adam’s charity run, and she was heading down to Leeds to support him.
There really wasn’t much time to get everything sorted and there was a lot of work still to be done.
It’d be fine. It was just more people to make happy, she thought, trying her best to turn her worry around.
Seeing how much joy Kenneth got from his social time in the shop, it was easy to see how much good they’d be doing.
Christmas was about giving – time, friendship, food, love and laughter – and about bringing people together.
They were going to be doing that in bucketloads.
After Kenneth had left, an hour and a heapful of memories later, in came a smartly dressed lady, wearing a navy woollen coat over a black skirt, thick tights and a cream polo-neck woollen jumper.
‘Oh, what’s this about a festive lunch in the old school hall?’ She’d spotted the poster for the Turkey and Tinsel lunch in the window.
It soon came to light that she’d been a teacher at the village school in the Nineties.
There had been two classrooms back in the day.
This lady, who introduced herself as Janet – Mrs Jones – had taken the older children aged seven to nine.
She’d taught everything bar PE and music, for which they had visiting teachers.
It was small but so lovely, she remembered fondly.
Memories of school plays and Christmas dinners, carol singing and fetes, fundraisers, tombolas and raffles.
It had all happened there in the past. She was delighted to hear the hall was going to be given a new lease of life.
Adding that she thought it would make a wonderful place to host their festive lunch.
‘I’m don’t live locally anymore,’ Janet explained, ‘just calling in on my way through to visit a friend in Kirkton, who’s sadly not well. Thought I’d come the scenic route. But is there any way I can help at all?’ she asked kindly.
Cath had to think on her feet. She spotted the book of raffle tickets there on the counter.
‘Oh yes, thank you. We’ve launched a raffle to help the village hall funds.
It’s a pound a ticket. Five for a strip,’ she added with confidence.
It was all coming back from her school fundraiser days.
‘There’s a gorgeous hamper from the village stores with a bottle of fizz in.
’ The lads hadn’t put it together as yet.
She wasn’t sure about the fizz being part of it.
She was going to have to twist somebody’s tanned Greek-Cypriot arm here.
‘Lovely, I’ll take ten pounds’ worth.’
‘Thank you so much. I’ll just jot down your contact number. It’s going to be drawn on the day of the festive lunch.’ She took down the details, passing the lady two strips of five tickets. How marvellous.
‘Oh, with all the chat, I’d forgotten! I’ve come in for two pieces of cake, and something for our lunch. It’ll save dear Brenda having to cook.’
Cath recommended the large Mediterranean roast veg and feta quiche, which she knew Andreas had freshly baked this morning. He’d had an early start cooking before his shopping day. Janet then chose two slices of Dan’s dark-chocolate orange cake to go with their morning coffee.
‘Thank you. That all looks delicious.’
‘It will be. I’ve tested them all over time.’ Cath smiled. ‘Well, I hope you have a lovely time with your friend, and that her health improves,’ she added kindly. ‘It’s been lovely to chat. And I can picture the school in its heyday now with all those children chattering and dashing about.’
‘Yes, it had a wonderful feel about it back then. It was a happy place. Perhaps I can bring in some old photographs. I’ll have a look when I get home. I’m not often passing this way, but I could make a special trip and drop them here at the stores, I suppose.’
‘Oh, that would be so kind, thank you. And if it’s in time for the Christmas lunch, we could make a little noticeboard of memorabilia.’ The idea popped up in Cath’s head. ‘A memory board, in fact.’
‘That sounds a fabulous idea. I’ll definitely have a hunt when I’m back at home.’
Cath could picture it. A big corkboard, pinned with old photos of the school, some of the children who’d once attended (there were indeed some ex-pupils coming along to the lunch), perhaps of the groups that once used it as the village hall, too.
They could add the best of the old posters they’d spotted when they’d first visited the hall.
And, she could ask around in the village, see if anyone else had any keepsakes or photos.
There must be several people locally who’d been pupils at the school.
A heartwarming display of memorabilia, indeed.
Another job for the ever-growing list, she realised, but it shouldn’t be hard to organise.
As Janet left the stores, a message pinged on Cath’s phone. It was from Will.
Thanks for your message. We’ll be fine, I’m sure. It may just take a little while. Tricky times. x
She hoped this wouldn’t make him shut her out once more, she really wanted to talk to him properly.
She had limited experience of grief, her parents being of an age where it had been expected, even if it still hurt, but plenty of experience of motherhood.
Perhaps she might be able to help, or at least listen and let Will get some of his concerns off his chest.
Two minds must have been thinking alike as his new message read: Can we meet up later, once Sophie has got her train back? Be good to talk. x
Yes, of course, do you want to come around to mine for say 7.30 p.m.? x Cath replied. Oh, wasn’t Sophie meant to be staying until tomorrow? With Maddie coming up then, too. Had all those plans now changed? It wasn’t a good sign.
A couple of customers came in and Cath had to refocus on the task in hand, but she couldn’t help thinking about their meet-up this evening.
Whilst she was looking forward to seeing Will, and the chance to talk through some of the difficult issues he was facing, hoping to help him put some perspective on that, there was a feeling of misgiving growing inside Cath.
He’d been known to cool things relationship-wise in the past. Would this give him yet another reason to pull away?
*
She’d already let the terrier, Shirley – who was home alone in the upstairs flat – out for a quick wee at lunchtime.
But after finishing at the shop at four p.m. as instructed, and finding herself at a loose end, Cath took her doggie friend home with her, intending to head out for a walk.
Perhaps clear her mind a little of those cobwebs of confusion, before seeing Will.
It might go well later, and her fears might be unfounded, she reminded herself.
But whatever she was about to face, the canine company and a country stroll would definitely do her good.
Blue skies above, with mere puffs of cloud drifting on a crisp, chill breeze. Trees silvered and winter bare. December in Northumberland could be stunning. You just needed to wrap up warm and get outside. Nature and a blast of air did the rest.
Cath had driven the short distance from the village, with Shirley sat in the passenger footwell, to the nearby woods where she and Will had walked just those few weeks before.
Back then there had been the promise of a relationship, the excitement of it all to come; now she knew his body, if only for one night, but having tasted his love – both physical and mental, she was greedy for more.
She wanted to be together, be a couple, not be afraid to love but to shout it from the rooftops.
‘Come on then, Shirley, let’s go.’
She gave her furry white pal a pat, and clipped on her lead, ready to walk the two-mile track around the woodland.
Small birds darted above, blue and coal tits, and gold, yellow and green finches.
The winter birds were looking for berries and bugs in the woods, keeping themselves going through the harder months.
Looking at the bare branches around her, she saw that the nature of living, be it human or tree, was change and loss, but then ultimately renewal.
Yes, the woods were stripped back now, but still beautiful.
Stripped back – that was exactly how she’d felt after her marriage had broken down.
Being hurt and betrayed left you vulnerable, of course it did.
But you either shied away and lived a quiet, perhaps lonelier life, or you could risk the bloody lot, and go and grab life by the balls.
Spring would come again, even if the buds, the seeds, were hidden for now.
Cath had found herself again, here in Tilldale, and discovered a fantastic new group of friends to support her whilst doing so.
Her supper club team were her tribe. Renewal, that was the key – that, and hope.
She thought of Will, of being in his arms, their tender kiss bringing them together on that fateful supper club night back in the autumn.
She’d thought back then that making the move to find out if he felt the same would be the hard bit, but knowing now that he did, the impact and complications of his family’s grief were proving to be even harder.
She’d found the courage to love again, in the midst of all that pain. She just prayed that Will could too.