Chapter Twelve #3
Cat brushed herself down, cleared her throat and busied herself with running water into the bowl ready to wash up, while Luke went to investigate their mystery intruder.
Eventually he reappeared, Jake Kerrow trailing behind him with a bottle of red wine.
‘I thought I’d drop it in, save bringing it this evening,’ he said, glancing between the two of them as he placed it on the kitchen worktop. ‘Haven’t interrupted anything, have I?’
‘No, of course not,’ Luke was quick to respond. ‘Everything’s fine. Cat’s done a great job.’
‘Looking forward to it. Thank you for inviting me; both of you.’ The elderly fisherman’s gaze slid from one to the other then with a nod which encompassed more than any words could have, he turned to leave, with Luke following him out into the hall.
Cat waited for him to return hoping he would take her in his arms and finish what he had started.
That strange and wonderful moment had been so out of character for Luke and she had to admit was exactly what she had been longing for.
But, she realised, the moment he stepped back into the room everything was different.
He seemed embarrassed and uncomfortable, as if he regretted his actions.
‘I have to go out,’ he said, lifting his coat from the chair. ‘I won’t be long.’ And without another word he left, footsteps echoing down the hall before the door closed behind him.
Half an hour later Cat was busy peeling potatoes when she heard the front door slam and the sound of feet on the flagstone floor of the hallway. She turned, peeler in hand, to see Luke standing in the doorway holding a bunch of flowers.
‘I bought you these.’ He gave her a sheepish grin as he placed them on the kitchen table. ‘You’ve worked so hard today and, well, I wanted to say thank you.’
‘That’s kind of you,’ Cat said, wiping her hands on her apron before walking over to the table to pick them up. ‘Chrysanthemums and gerberas. I love gerberas. Have you something I can put them in? They’d make a nice display for our dinner this evening.’
Luke left the room returning with a tall pottery vase, which he handed to her. Filling it with water she arranged the blooms and disposed of the wrapping in the kitchen swing bin.
‘They’d look nice on the dresser,’ he said, taking the vase from her. She followed him into the small dining room and watched him set it down carefully. ‘Does this look okay?’ he asked, stepping back so she could see where he’d placed it. ‘Or maybe a bit to the left?’
‘No, no that’s fine.’
‘Anything I can do to help?’ he said, moving away from the dresser. ‘I’m feeling a bit surplus to requirements at the moment.’
‘You can set the table, that would be helpful.’
‘Okay,’ he said, opening the dresser drawer and pulling out a cloth and some cutlery.
Cat watched him, the memory of his kiss lingering.
The way she’d responded had been … she pulled in a breath at the memory.
Best not to go there. It wasn’t about to happen again.
It was clear the flowers were more than simply a thank you.
They were an apology too. For stepping over the line.
For taking liberties. The message was clear and she accepted it.
That friendship was all he had to offer.
By seven thirty they had both showered and changed, Luke allowing Cat to use the bathroom first and staying downstairs out of the way until she had finished.
Jake arrived promptly, carrying beer probably bought from The Smugglers on the way here.
Cat wasn’t sure what to expect after seeing him sitting up at the bar in his jeans and Guernsey jumper.
But the little fisherman had made a real effort with his smart grey trousers, a blue shirt and neat leather waistcoat.
Since his earlier arrival with the bottle of wine she noticed someone had trimmed both his hair and beard.
It made her realise there might be a Mrs Kerrow at home.
She hadn’t given it a thought and the fact he might have a wife missing out on all this prompted her to ask.
There was, after all, plenty of food to go around if he wanted her to join them.
‘No, Miss Cat,’ he said as he handed the beer over to Luke and she showed him into the front room. ‘My wife died a few years back. Only me now and Bruno, of course.’
‘Bruno? You have a son?’ Even worse. She watched Luke disappear into the kitchen with the bottles. Why hadn’t he bothered to mention him?
‘A son,’ Jake laughed, ‘no, he’s my border collie. Comes out on the trawler with me. A real old sea dog. I do have sons though. Two of them. They have their own trawlers,’ he said proudly. ‘They’re based with the Newlyn fleet.’
Moments later Luke reappeared with a glass of beer, which he handed to Jake before disappearing back into the kitchen.
He returned with two glasses of wine, one of which he handed to Cat before settling himself next to her.
She listened as they exchanged news about the port.
It became clear Luke still had a love of the sea and she was surprised to learn he had occasionally crewed for one or two of the trawler owners, including Jake.
The sound of the timer in the kitchen took her away, leaving the men to their discussions.
She concentrated on the final stage of her food preparation, the mashed potato, the baby carrots and beans.
With a luxury trifle sitting in the fridge, that left only the rich dark gravy to organise – something else Franco had helped her with.
Hearing laughter coming from the front room she smiled and reached for her wine.
She had a good feel about this evening, confident she’d be able to pass Luke’s challenge with flying colours.
It was midnight by the time Jake left, giving Cat a kiss on the cheek and thanking her. A wonderful meal, something he’d remember for a long time he told them both as he disappeared into the darkness. Luke closed the door and she followed him back down the narrow hallway.
‘Thank you for all you’ve done today,’ he said as they began clearing the remaining items from the table in the small dining room. ‘You do realise Jake will probably be talking about this for months now.’
‘It was good fun,’ Cat replied as she removed the tablecloth ready for the washing machine, ‘although I don’t think Franco need worry about losing his job any time soon.’
Luke laughed. ‘Have you time for another coffee?’ he asked as they entered the small kitchen and he began stacking items neatly on the draining board.
‘No, thanks, I must go. I’ll phone for a taxi.’
‘Ten out of ten by the way,’ he said as she loaded the tablecloth and serviettes into the washing machine.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘That’s what I’m awarding you for the amazing meal you cooked today.’
‘Praise indeed.’ She gave a mock bow. ‘I hope with such a high rating you’re not planning to ask me to do this on a regular basis.’
‘Of course not. It was a one-off.’
‘Hah! You might find that’s not strictly true. Just warning you, if words gets around there might be a queue of fishermen lining up at your door for special gourmet evenings.’
‘I doubt that.’ He gave an amused laugh.
Retrieving her bag Cat pulled out her mobile and quickly made the call. ‘They’ll be here in five minutes. I’d better go and collect my holdall from upstairs.’
‘You could cancel your taxi and stay the night, I’ve a spare room,’ he offered, watching her slip the phone back into her bag
‘Thank you but no, I’d prefer to get home.’
He closed his eyes and drew in a heavy breath. ‘Yes, of course, you’re right. I’m sorry about earlier, I got carried away, I guess. It should never have happened. I hope I didn’t send out the wrong signals.’
‘I’m as much to blame,’ she admitted with a guilty shake of her head, wishing his words were different. ‘After all it takes two to make something like that happen, doesn’t it? And I wasn’t exactly fighting you off.’
‘No, you weren’t.’ He gave her a thoughtful smile. ‘I hope we’re still friends though?’
She thought for a moment. How easy it would be to walk away now.
To end this frustrating relationship where his words said one thing, but his actions said something entirely different.
No one kissed a woman the way he did without meaning it.
She had no idea what was holding him back.
A previous romance gone badly wrong, maybe?
Whatever it was she wasn’t about to give up on him yet. ‘Yes,’ she nodded, ‘still friends.’