Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
CATH
‘ S o, how’s it all going? Feeling ready?’ asked Caroline from the depths of Cath’s patchwork sofa.
Cath grinned at her as she poured a generous glass of red wine for them both. ‘Define ready…’
‘Everything in place. No imminent disasters. World domination ensured,’ said Caroline accepting her glass with a nod of thanks as Cath sank down next to her.
‘Well then… I think I’m royally feckered!’ said Cath, raising her glass in a mock toast.
Caroline snorted. ‘Excellent. Loving that confidence. Seriously, though?’
‘Seriously, I think everything is as in place as it can be,’ said Cath. ‘It’s way too late to sell tickets or anything like that, so there’s no way of knowing how many people are going to turn up… or if anyone’s going to turn up, for that matter.’
‘Don’t worry, they’ll come,’ said Caroline.
‘I hope so,’ said Cath, feeling the now familiar flutter of nerves as she just about managed to hold off crossing her fingers around the stem of her glass. ‘Anyway, if they do, we’ll be ready for them. We’ve got plenty of wooden rackets now, thanks to Evelyn Barker’s donation.’
Caroline nodded and scribbled Evelyn’s name down in her notebook next to the word “rackets”. ‘Who else goes on the list?
This was the real reason Caroline was in Cath’s flat, after all. She was there on official newspaper business, collecting the names of everyone who was pitching in to make the event a success. Of course, the fact that the official business happened to coincide with Cath’s invitation to drink wine and eat cheese made the whole thing far more fun.
‘The WI are running a cake stall and providing jugs of Pimms and mocktails—with Fergus’s blessing of course. Obviously, I want to thank Fergus and the staff at the Hotel. Then there’s Stuart at Bendall’s—he’s donated the cream to go with the strawberries, and Milly at the flower shop is making little posies as gifts for the winner of each round. She’s donating a big bunch as a raffle prize too. Actually, I’ll just give you a copy of the list of the prizes and everyone who’s donated, because it’s about a mile long.’
Caroline nodded, still scribbling hard and Cath paused to let her catch up.
‘Anyone else?’ said Caroline. ‘I mean, I’ll make more notes tomorrow, but I don’t want to miss anyone.’
‘Annie Pottinger is doing a jam sale to raise money, Harold is donating the strawberries, and I guess I’d better thank the council for lending us the deckchairs from Crumbleton Sands.’
‘Those lovely stripey vintage ones?’ said Caroline.
‘Yep. Andy’s already brought them over. Actually—make sure Andy gets name-checked—right at the top if you don’t mind! He’s been brilliant, the guy’s hardly stopped. He’s done all the work on the court, and I’ve roped him in to help me pick the strawberries from Harold’s tomorrow morning so that they’re as fresh as they can be for when we kick things off at eleven.’
‘That boy’s being very helpful these days,’ said Caroline, wriggling her eyebrows.
‘I’d hardly call Andy a boy,’ said Cath with a straight face, deliberately ignoring the less-than-subtle undertones to Caroline’s pronouncement.
‘Okay, fine,’ said Caroline. ‘Lemme ask this, then—is Andy your manfriend?’
Cath snorted with laughter, almost inhaling a mouthful of wine. She couldn’t help it. There was something about Caroline that made keeping a straight face pretty much impossible.
‘I couldn’t possibly comment,’ spluttered Cath.
‘Blimey, you picked that up fast,’ grumbled Caroline.
‘Picked what up fast?’ said Cath, suddenly lost.
‘The no-comment thing,’ she huffed. ‘One of the drawbacks of being the town’s only reporter Is that I get “no comment” from all my friends whenever I want to engage in a bit of harmless gossip!’
‘Aw,’ said Cath. ‘Sad for you, but still… no comment.’
‘Spoilsport,’ said Caroline with a pout. ‘For what it’s worth, I think the pair of you would make a very cute couple.’
‘Well… I…’ Cath took a deep breath, wondering when the little flat had grown quite so warm. ‘Here’s the thing, I’m not sure I want to be half of a cute couple just yet. Not considering it’s taken a couple of particularly tricky years to forget about the gittish other half of the last cute couple I was part of.’
‘Oh,’ said Caroline. ‘Poo. Sorry.’
Cath shrugged. ‘That’s life, right?’
‘It doesn’t have to be like that,’ said Caroline, shaking her head. ‘Not all blokes are first-class asshats.’
‘Is your bloke one of the exceptions?’ said Cath.
‘I don’t have one,’ said Caroline. ‘Mainly because the ones who aren’t first-class asshats are either taken or I’ve known them since we were wearing identical baby rompers and sharing toddler paddling pools.’
‘Cute!’ chuckled Cath.
‘Erm, nope. Far far far too close for comfort. For example—your Andy? Kissing him would be like snogging my brother.’
‘Eww!’
‘Yes,’ agreed Caroline. ‘Maximum ick factor right there, my friend.’
‘Okay I get it,’ said Cath. ‘But still… I’m not sure I’m ready.’
‘But if you were?’ said Caroline.
‘If I was… he’s seriously cute,’ said Cath, keeping her eyes on her glass of wine. ‘Especially without a top on.’
‘Cath Walker, you naughty girl!’ squeaked Caroline. ‘And also, EWW!’
Cath grinned at her. ‘I do like him. He’s been lovely to me. But… I’ve only been in town for five minutes.’
‘Yep, and in that time you seem to have managed to charm half of Crumbleton’s population,’ said Caroline.
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Cath awkwardly.
‘Well I do—it’s kind of my job, after all!’ said Caroline. ‘Enough people have stopped me in the street to tell me they think you’re the best thing to arrive in town since Ruby Hutchinson – and she’s a bloomin’ celebrity author!’
‘Well, thanks,’ said Cath, taking a fortifying sip of her wine. ‘I mean, I’m flattered, but—’
‘You know what else they’ve all been telling me?’ said Caroline with a decidedly naughty smile.
‘What?’ said Cath.
‘That they haven’t seen our Andy look this happy in years.’
‘Oh,’ said Cath.
‘Exactly.’
‘Erm… I’m not saying I am going to do anything about it,’ said Cath, ‘but… if I was… is there, I mean… has there been… I mean…’
‘You want to know about his current relationship status?’ said Caroline.
‘I… maybe?’ said Cath.
Caroline rolled her eyes. ‘He’s single.’
‘I guessed that bit,’ said Cath, doing her best not to let her frustration show in her voice. ‘The real question is… why?’
‘That’s easy,’ said Caroline. ‘You’re not going to find any skeletons in that closet. The man is exactly as he appears. Sweet, friendly, lovely, straightforward.’
‘So… he’s just… single?’ said Cath. ‘How?’
‘Because his bitch of an ex-girlfriend was a screwed-up mess,’ huffed Caroline. ‘I’m sure Tara was a perfectly nice person… deep down. But she seemed to crave drama. It was like she was always spoiling for a fight. She picked at everything—anything Andy did was wrong. His job was wrong. His clothes were wrong. His smile was wrong.’
‘That sounds horrible,’ said Cath with a frown.
‘She wanted to change him,’ said Caroline.
‘Why would anyone want Andy to change?’ said Cath, almost to herself. The man was practically perfect.
Caroline was smirking again, and Cath wondered for a moment if that last thought had managed to escape out of her mouth.
‘What happened with them?’ said Cath quickly. ‘In the end, I mean.’
‘She issued an ultimatum,’ said Caroline. ‘She wanted to move away from Crumbleton—up to London—and if Andy wanted to save the relationship, he’d have to move too.’
‘And he didn’t,’ said Cath.
‘Nope, he didn’t,’ said Caroline. ‘That man’s first and true love will always be Crumbleton. Hell, he single-handedly keeps the old place from crumbling, if you’ll excuse the pun. I don’t think he’ll ever leave, and any potential love interests will just have to resign themselves to the fact that they’re going to be entering into an Andy-Crumbleton threesome situation.’
Cath let out a surprised laugh, almost spraying Caroline with wine.
‘Sorry!’ she gasped.
‘I don’t know what you’re laughing about, young lady!’ said Caroline, raising an eyebrow. ‘It’s you who’s going to have to deal with this particular menage!’
‘Only if I’m in a relationship with him,’ said Cath, shifting uncomfortably. ‘Which I’m not.’
‘Yet,’ added Caroline. ‘But let’s just say it went that way… hypothetically… how would you feel about the whole Crumbleton thing?’
‘Well, I’ve not been here long,’ said Cath slowly, ‘but let’s just say I can see where he’s coming from. I’m already starting to feel the same about the place. Give me a couple more weeks and I can imagine I’ll never want to leave.’
Caroline grinned at her. ‘Then we’d better make sure tomorrow’s fundraiser goes with a bang.’
‘I can’t believe the big day’s here already!’ said Andy, as the pair of them headed down the high street towards Harold and Annie’s townhouse.
Andy was carrying a stack of sturdy, shallow cardboard boxes Stuart from Bendall’s had given them. They were perfect for picking the strawberries and ferrying them safely down to the Dolphin and Anchor.
‘I know,’ yawned Cath, wishing she had time to nip into the café and beg Mabel for a large cup of Earl Grey to keep her going. ‘I didn’t sleep a wink last night!’
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Andy. ‘You’ve been working too hard.’
‘Erm… no, that’d be you!’ laughed Cath. ‘I’ve just been along for the ride.’
‘That’s rubbish and you know it,’ said Andy.
‘Fine. But it’s been fun, not work. And… thank you, by the way.’ Cath swallowed. She was suddenly feeling weirdly emotional as well as completely knackered. ‘I couldn’t have done this without you.’
‘Yes you could,’ said Andy, sounding matter of fact. ‘I’ve got a feeling you could do pretty much anything once you’ve set your mind to it.’
‘Are you saying I’m stubborn?’ said Cath, shooting a sideways grin at him. It was far easier to make a joke than take the compliment.
‘No—just one of the most capable people I’ve ever come across,’ he said. ‘And by the way, that’s basically the highest compliment I can come up with.’
‘Well… thanks,’ said Cath, coming to a halt next to him in front of the Pottingers’ front door.
‘You’re welcome,’ he said.
‘And… just for the record,’ said Cath as Andy knocked on the door, ‘even if I could have done it without you, I wouldn’t have wanted to.’
Cath watched as Andy’s entire face creased into a delighted smile, and it felt like the sun had just come up.
‘Well well well,’ said Annie Pottinger, as she threw the door open and beamed out at them, ‘if it isn’t Crumbleton’s new lovebirds!’
‘I…’ said Andy.
‘We…’ started Cath, feeling like she’d just been winded.
‘There isn’t…’ said Andy.
‘We’re not together,’ said Cath. She instantly wanted to kick herself—she could swear Andy had just winced when she’d said that!
‘No,’ he said quietly, ‘we’re not. Just friends… here for the strawberries.’
‘Hmm,’ muttered Annie. ‘We’ll see about that. Come on in then, those strawberries aren’t going to pick themselves!’