Chapter 8
Though they’d had the most wonderful afternoon with Lily, since the two of them had been back at Cath’s, Will hadn’t quite seemed himself.
‘Will, are you okay?’ Cath couldn’t help but feel a little concerned about him. Surely, he hadn’t been scared off by Andreas’s wedding bells jibe?
‘Yeah, I think so.’ He gave a small yawn, then admitted, ‘I still haven’t quite got my usual energy levels back.’
‘Hmm.’ So, maybe her instinct was right. ‘Perhaps it’s something viral hanging around in your system? That can take it out of you.’ Cath hazarded a guess. She took a sip of the white wine that she’d just poured out for them.
‘Maybe.’
‘Just take it steady, hey. Give yourself a bit of a break,’ Cath spoke softly, caringly. ‘You do seem to push yourself on these long bike rides, and there’s your work to keep up with, as well as everything else you’ve had to deal with …’
He’d been through so much. Grief could do strange things to you.
Will’s body and mind had been put through the mill these past couple of years.
Constantly worrying about his girls, no doubt burying his own sorrow deep down in the process.
He’d been trying to hold everything together for so long.
Bless him, was it affecting his health? It wouldn’t be surprising.
She felt a tug of emotion within. Her love for Will was growing daily.
However much she’d tried to keep those feelings down and listen to the voice of ‘been there, done that, got the T-shirt and ripped it off again’ experience, and however weary her heart had become over Trevor’s devastating betrayal, believe it or not, it was all revved up again and ready to go. There seemed to be no stopping it.
‘Yeah, I’ll try,’ he responded.
She lay her hand over Will’s in a silent gesture of support.
Leaning in close beside him on the sofa, his arm wrapped around her, she felt his wonderfully solid warmth.
They hadn’t made any rash promises, nor said too much, too soon.
There was an element of caution at this midlife stage, leaving you wary of making those bold statements that you might not finally be able to keep.
No one was yet talking about moving in together, or anything as close to plunging into a commitment as that.
They were taking their relationship day by day.
It seemed to be the best way. But oh, did she feel it, that love.
It seemed to have a tender language all of its own, a language that she treasured deep within.
She took a slow breath, taking in the scent of his woody-citrus aftershave.
Sitting so close, she could feel the beat of his heart below her other palm where it now lay on his chest. She wanted so much for him to stay over tonight, to be able to sleep in his arms. That felt like the very best place to be, just now.
She’d never imagined she might feel like this again.
But love wasn’t exclusive to youth. And how wonderful was that revelation.
Might this second chance at love really last? Dare she hope as much?
*
Will had stayed the night, the pair of them settled together in the cosy double divan under the ancient eaves of her cottage bedroom.
It was more than she could ever have imagined when she’d first moved in over a year ago.
After the hurt and pain of divorce, she’d pictured a solo life, quietly getting on with her middle age.
But that was absolutely not the way it was playing out at all.
Her fresh new start had been full of surprises.
And this relationship with Will was one of the loveliest. Who knew where life might take her, them, next?
Will had gone off to sleep like a log after a cosy cuddle, he had evidently felt too tired to make love.
And that was no problem for Cath, they were beginning to settle into their relationship; it didn’t have to be fireworks every time.
They’d had many gorgeous passionate nights in these early months of discovering each other, and she was happy to snuggle up for a change.
Over a breakfast of coffee, toast and honey, Cath asked, ‘Did you sleep well? Feeling a bit fresher?’
‘Yeah, thanks … I think I just needed to crash, sorry …’
‘Hey, it’s fine, honestly.’ Whilst the naughty nookie in the kitchen had been a gorgeously spicy surprise the other day, they didn’t need to be competing in the sexual Olympics.
As Cath took a sip of her coffee, she considered that this shift might signify a deeper commitment forming between them, one that nurtured real life, with all its ups and downs. It was a good feeling. She really couldn’t cope with a fly-by-night lover at this point in her life.
*
Will headed back to his own place mid-morning, after a hug and a kiss, and a promise to see each other very soon.
If they didn’t have a meet-up scheduled, then they’d taken to calling each other every day, catching up on the little details of their lives.
It was nice just to hear the warm tones of his voice, to be honest. She’d definitely be calling later to check on how he was feeling.
Finding herself with a little free time on her hands, Cath took the plunge with finding a date for the ‘Tilldale Afternoon Tea’.
She looked up Veronica’s number – queen of the village hall committee – and called. Sat at the kitchen table Cath had her pocket diary to hand, opened to start browsing from the beginning of August, and preferably a Sunday.
‘Veronica, hi.’
‘Hello, Cath. How are you?’
‘Good, thanks. How are you, and how’s the hall doing?’
‘I’m well. And the hall’s doing fantastic, thanks to you and the troops.
We have some regular groups using it now.
The Brownies, Lyn’s yoga, pilates, carpet bowls, and there’s even been some interest from the Autistic Society.
It’s becoming a bit of a hot spot, actually.
Oh, and that reminds me, the heating’s been working marvellously since all the repairs, too. ’
‘Ah, that’s wonderful to hear. Our hard work has paid off.’
‘It has indeed. Now then, how can I help?’ Veronica got to the point, sounding a busy lady.
‘Well, I’d like to make a booking, please. For another event.’
‘Oh, do tell me more. That was such a super day for the community at Christmastime. I so enjoyed seeing everyone, the elderly and the young ones, chatting and dancing. I still don’t know how you managed to pull it all off.’
‘Thanks, well, it was teamwork. And our supper club group have mooted ‘A Tilldale Afternoon Tea’, focusing on the elderly once more, but also open to everyone. We’d like to fix a date for the summer, perhaps early August time, and start the ball rolling.’
‘Sounds delightful, and if it’s anything like the last one, it’ll be a joy. Give me a mo, I’ll just fetch the diary for the hall.’ There was a scuffling, and then a rustling sound. ‘Right you are, fire away. Was there a particular date you were interested in?’
‘A Sunday in August would be good.’ Cath literally crossed her fingers. To have all the team available to help, a Sunday was the only day, and August would give them plenty of time to get organised.
A further rustle, as pages were turned. ‘Right-io. Oh, there’s only one Sunday left – goodness, we are busy – Sunday the third. Shall I pencil you in?’
‘Absolutely. That’s perfect. Yes, book us in, please.’
‘How exciting. I can’t wait to see what you come up with this time.’
‘Me too.’ They had a lot of planning to do. ‘Oh, well that’s fantastic. We have a date.’
‘I look forward to it. And do let me know if there’s anything I, or the committee, can do to help out.’
‘Oh, that’s good to hear. I will. Thank you.’
They then bade their farewells.
Cath hoped the care home didn’t have anything on that day, or they might be stumped at first base.
She felt a buzz of excitement about the new event, laced with a touch of nervousness.
There’d be a hell of a lot of work to get this set up.
And with it being her idea, and as team leader, the bulk of the responsibility was on her shoulders.
Could they pull off another big social bash?
Was she bloody crazy to even try? Nothing like giving herself a task, when her life was busy enough.
But then she thought of all those elderly faces looking at her so hopefully in the day room, and she remembered the smiles and chatter at their village hall festive lunch, the impromptu dancing, the joyfulness of bringing people together.
Dancing … and music. Ooh, and wouldn’t it be lovely to find a band, or some kind of live music; the thought kept flickering in her mind.
Give the event an old-style music hall feel, while they ate the most gorgeous cakes, bakes and sandwiches.
Well, she wasn’t known to do anything by halves, she may as well throw herself in hook, line and sinker.
With no time like the present, she dialled the number for the Kirkton Care Home, ready to check the date with them. Fingers crossed once again.
*
Cath felt a little nervous as she waited for the call to be answered.
‘Hi, it’s Cath Taylor, can I speak with Julie, please?’ Julie was the care home manager, a lovely lady who kept a tight ship, as well as having a heart of gold.
‘Hi Cath, it’s Linda. I’ll just pop you through.’
A click and a pause, and then Julie’s voice came through. ‘Morning, Cath. And how are you?’
‘I’m good, thanks.’
‘Are you calling in to see us this week?’
‘Of course. Can’t let Reggie and the others down. That’s exactly why I’m phoning, actually. We’ve had an idea, myself and the supper group that is, with more than a little prompting from your residents, too.’ She couldn’t help but grin, as she pictured all those eager faces.
‘Oh, tell me more …’
‘Well, as the Christmas lunch went off so well, lots of your residents keep talking about it. In fact, several have been asking for another event …’
‘Hah, they’re not backwards in coming forward, are they.’ Julie chuckled. ‘And yes, I’ve heard them talking about it too. They so enjoyed it.’