The Seaside Supper Club (The Second Chance Supper Club #3)

Chapter 1

‘Wow, it seems an age since we last had a supper night!’ Andreas was stood on the cottage’s steps, grinning.

‘Hello! And doesn’t it,’ Cath agreed, holding open the dove-grey wooden door in welcome. ‘A get-together is well overdue.’

‘Well, thank you for organising, petal. And for getting us all out of our far too cosy living rooms,’ Andreas added. Despite it being a rather cool Northumberland April, there was already a hint of tan about his olive skin.

‘Hi, gorgeous.’ His long-term partner, Dan, stood behind him, smiling broadly. ‘Oh and here’s a little something by way of thanks.’

Cath spotted the label, a fancy champagne, no less. ‘Ooh, lovely. What a treat. Well, good evening, lads.’

‘We’ve gone all out to celebrate the spring!’ explained Dan. He was shorter than Andreas, dressed smartly casual in dark denim jeans and a striped shirt beneath a navy jumper, his ice-blue eyes striking below the cropped silver-fox hair.

They were the first friends Cath had made when she’d moved into the village a year ago.

Both in their late forties, they were fabulous and fun, and ran the village stores – the shop at the hub of their community.

The dashing duo followed her through to the galley kitchen, a sunshine-inspired blast of yellow walls and oak-wood units, at the back of the cottage.

‘Any excuse for bubbles,’ Andreas elaborated. ‘It was a New Year’s gift. Been sat in our flat for months. We needed someone to share it with, and this seems the perfect occasion.’

‘No need to look for an excuse on my account,’ added Nikki, who was a bubbly blonde-haired whirlwind in her late thirties and, having been the first to arrive, was already settled at the kitchen table with a glass of chilled pinot grigio. ‘Anytime is fizz time.’

Cath started getting flute glasses down from a cupboard, when there was a rat-a-tat on the door, so she left Andreas to finish that task.

Next to arrive, hot on the heels of Andreas and Dan, was Lily, the latest recruit to their unofficial supper group.

Lily – Nikki’s recently turned eighteen-year-old niece – was busy studying for her A levels and Food Science Diploma, and was hoping to turn her love of baking and cooking into a career, with dreams of becoming a patisserie chef, or running her own artisan bakery one day.

The young woman arrived in a dash, her green eyes heavily kohled, pixie-cropped hair, sporting a red tartan mini-skirt, which she’d teamed with thick black tights and Dr. Martens boots. ‘Hi, guys. Hey, Auntie Niks. Hope I’m not late. Everyone okay?’

‘Good, thanks, Lily,’ replied Cath. ‘And no, I’d say you were right on cue.’

‘Phew, it’s been a mad rush. I thought I had loads of time, and then I got caught up with posting a reel about the restaurant on Insta; I’m helping them with their socials, and suddenly it was time to get changed and get here.

’ Lily did some part-time work at an up-and-coming bistro in nearby Alnwick.

‘No worries. And we’re doing great, petal,’ said Andreas.

‘Well, your cousins are doing my head in, but I’m fine,’ Nikki groaned dramatically, as she tossed her blonde ponytail.

‘Better now that I’ve escaped for a few hours.

Left Kev to deal with them. They were arguing about the game controllers as I made my exit.

’ Nikki had three boys aged between nine and fourteen.

She juggled a busy life running her own cleaning business with looking after a houseful of lads, including husband Kev, who whilst handy with an electrical task, was not overly keen on chipping in with the household chores.

It was a work-in-progress. A long one – they’d been married for almost sixteen years.

‘This is so lovely, asking us over. Thanks, Cath,’ said Lily. ‘Oh, and I’ve brought some chocolate truffles with me. Made them myself.’ She took a small sparkly-silver square box out from her rucksack, handing it to Cath.

Cath peeked in to see, and smell, the most scrumptious coco-dipped dark and white chocolate truffles, all in individual petit four cases. ‘Delightful. Thank you. They’ll be ideal with coffee after supper, I reckon.’

‘Spoilsport,’ said Nikki. ‘They look amazing. I’m ready to dive in now.’

With that, the cork popped dramatically in an arc across the kitchen, leaving a small dent in the ceiling, that only served to make Cath laugh.

‘Ooh, that’s a lively one,’ exclaimed Andreas, as a ‘Whoop!’ followed from Nikki.

‘Fizz, anyone?’ Andreas was soon offering out the filled flutes.

Cath reached for a glass, with a ‘Cheers!’

‘Cheers, lovelies,’ added Dan.

‘Gosh, the last time we were doing this was at Christmas,’ said Andreas, clinking glasses with Cath.

‘Really? Crikey,’ responded Cath. ‘It has been a while. We’re into April already. Supper club has slipped a bit. I think the mammoth Christmas event must have wiped us out. Or have we all just been hibernating for the winter, or something?’

‘Feels like it,’ said Lily.

‘Think so,’ agreed Nikki.

There was only one more person in their recently formed supper group to come, and that was Will. Hmm, Cath mused, perhaps she had been doing more than her fair share of hibernating with the handsome and rather lovely Will, of late. Her new partner – oh, it still felt a bit strange saying that.

Just thinking of him made the corners of Cath’s lips crease upwards into a gentle smile.

It was still early days, but things had been going so well between them lately.

Though the supper club hadn’t met as a group for months now, the two of them had been quietly nurturing their romance; walks in the woods with a carpet of crisp bronze, frost-crusted leaves underfoot, chatting by the log fire in The Star Inn village pub, catching up on their lives over a glass of wine or two.

Being a small, rural village here in Tilldale, there wasn’t a lot of choice socially, but that was fine.

It more than made up for it with its stunning countryside; the valley with its meandering river and rolling patchwork of farmed fields, small woodland copses and hawthorn hedges abundant with birdsong, and the moorland twin peaks of the Cheviot Hills as its grand backdrop.

Actually, Will was slightly late, Cath mused. She hoped all was well. Perhaps he’d just been held up at the cycle repair shop he owned in nearby Kirkton.

As she sipped her champagne, her thoughts lingered on Will. That delicious getting to know each other, over winter’s cosy nights in, taking time to discover each other’s bodies beneath the duvet. Well, you had to keep warm somehow.

After her divorce, Cath had thought her middle-aged body would be wrapped up for good, and left to perish in its comfy old M&S undies.

But with Will, she’d felt the fear and done it anyway, discarding those greying panties with a flourish across the bedroom, and then setting off to buy some new and far prettier sets.

Still M&S, mind. These past few months of getting to know each other had honestly been beautiful – as well as scary, naturally, after all that hurt – with evenings of pleasure and moments of pure joy, as Cath had gradually begun to open her heart once more.

But had she tempted fate? After all the pain – her ex, Trevor, letting her down in the most clichéd and cruel way with an affair, leading to the failure of her long-term marriage – she was struggling with the angst that she may have jumped in too soon.

You couldn’t help it after that kind of emotional battering.

One part of her kept cheerleading her on with a fresh start, telling her to go grab the rest of her life by the balls, while the other part, the one that lurked deep in her soul, warning her not to get hurt again, that romance wasn’t all it was made out to be.

Those rose-coloured glasses had been cracked years ago, and they could easily be stomped on and crushed again.

Her big concern was what would happen to her fabulous supper club friendship group then?

When in time, she and Will didn’t work out, had to go their separate ways, would the whole group feel the ricochets of their failing love story?

Would it make it too difficult to carry on with the supper club?

This group had been her saving grace, her sanctuary, filled with warmth and laughter, when first arriving in the village.

She switched the naysayer in her soul off, as she took a large sip from her flute of fizz. Enough! What she needed was to enjoy the here and now with her gorgeous friends.

‘Cheers again, everyone. Thanks so much for the bubbles, lads. We do indeed need to celebrate the supper club being back together, and up in the summerhouse.’ She raised her glass.

‘Oh, fantastic. So, we’re going to be in the sassy shed,’ said Nikki with a smile.

‘We are, indeed,’ Cath confirmed.

‘Ooh, I loved it up there,’ added Lily.

Cath had converted the old potting shed of Reggie’s – the cottage’s previous owner – last spring.

Now painted a soft sage green, with mix-and-match dining furniture within, and Cath’s pretty and thoughtful touches, it had become their special place last summer and autumn.

A place for chat, laughter, a cheeky glass or two of vino, and the most delicious suppers.

‘Glad I’ve brought my fleece, then,’ quipped Nikki.

‘And I’ve donned my warm socks and a vest for the occasion,’ said a sensible-sounding Dan, with a hint of his warm humour.

Evenings in Northumberland could cool substantially, especially in April. The al fresco life took a little more effort here.

‘Cath had already given us the nod,’ Andreas explained. ‘Earlier on in the shop.’