Chapter 27
Cath had suggested a lunch out in a café on the coast, thinking it would be nice to have a change of scene.
She missed their walks and those lovely ‘dating’-style day trips spent together.
She strongly felt that it was time they ventured out more, here and there locally, nothing too challenging, as a couple.
Will seemed to be getting a little morose cooped up at his house, with only the occasional morning going to work at his cycle repair business, which he’d had to leave ticking over until now, in the hands of his friend, Josh.
She was even finding it hard making conversation, day in day out, when Will hadn’t really been doing much.
She was aware things were still tricky for him toilet-wise, but he seemed much more able around his home.
Making cups of coffee, doing a few small chores, getting up and down from the chair well, and managing the stairs far more easily.
It was the confidence to go out that was lacking, she was sure, rather than the ability.
The operation had undoubtedly changed him, he was a shadow of the active, cycling-mad man she had met.
But perhaps he just needed a gentle nudge in the right direction.
Cath had offered to drive, and they’d taken the winding moorland road across country, and then down to the coast past Bamburgh and Seahouses towards Embleton, where there was a sweet little tea room she’d been wanting to try for ages, called Drift.
It wasn’t actually that far away from the beach bungalow.
So, if it turned out to be good, it’d be a lovely place to head for when they stayed there, she figured.
Though, chance would be a fine thing. Since their outing for the big beach hut reveal, Will had seemed almost reluctant to venture back.
Will had his rucksack with him. She’d seen it left open in the house and she’d spotted several incontinence pads.
He had admitted that things were still ‘not great’ down there, and Cath had urged him to have a word with his specialist nurse.
She wasn’t sure if he had taken her advice as yet.
She didn’t want to nag him, so had left it, for now.
They pulled up kerbside in the coastal village.
The coffee shop was so pretty inside. All blues and whites, and mix-and-match reclaimed furniture, the colour indeed of driftwood.
Wooden painted puffins and gulls adorned the walls and shelving, along with a host of local crafts for sale.
Ooh, she’d have to get a little memento for the beach house.
A huge glass counter was filled with inviting-looking cakes, quiches and treats.
Will took a seat near the window, as Cath went for a closer look to see what was on offer.
Cath ordered a flat white coffee for them both, and from the varied menu Will decided on a rather basic ham salad sandwich. Cath went for a brie, avocado and chicken toasted panini, and had eyed up a slice of deliciously tempting raspberry and white chocolate cake for afterwards.
Will shifted in his seat, seeming uneasy, then suddenly blurted out, ‘I’m not sure why we’re bothering with all this … coming out, having lunch. It seems a bit of a farce, that life’s all jolly, and we’re having a good time.’ His tone was exasperated.
Oh heck, it seemed the trip wasn’t lifting his mood at all.
‘Ah, I just thought it might help. Get us out for a bit. I’ve been wanting to give this place a try …’
He puffed out a sigh. ‘It might well be nice for you, but it’s a bloody nightmare for me.
’ He got up, rucksack in hand, and headed for the toilet, which was off to the back of the café.
Cath could hear his huffing and puffing continuing as he tried the handle only to find it locked as someone was already in there.
Oh dear. Was this all too soon? Was she being a bit selfish? But she was trying to find a bit of normal. A bit of hope. A small treat, a drive to the coast, the chance to get them out of the house. Perhaps she was trying too hard.
She’d mooted earlier that they might also call at the beach hut, which was only a few miles away.
But wondered now, how might that go down?
Will didn’t seem in the best of spirits.
When he finally made it back from the loo, she cautiously mentioned her idea.
‘Shall we call by the beach bungalow? Check on it. I brought the keys just in case.’
‘Not today. I just need to get back home.’
‘Are you okay, my love? Are you having bathroom issues?’ Her voice was hushed, discreet. She just wanted to understand, to be able to try and help him as best she could.
‘Not here, Cath. For Christ’s sake.’ His tone was terse. ‘I feel like an old man as it is, and you’re sounding like my bloody carer.’
‘Sorry … I’m sorry,’ she apologised, feeling flustered. God, she kept getting this wrong.
Will downed his coffee, and pushed the last corner of ham sandwich to the edge of his plate. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’ He shoved a twenty-pound note onto the table top and was standing, ready to go.
‘Oh, but I was going to pay. It was my treat,’ she said. Some bloody treat, this was.
‘It’s okay. It’s sorted now.’ And with that, he was off.
She quickly shoved the remaining piece of panini in her mouth, grabbed her jacket, called out ‘Thanks’ to the waitress, catching her eye and gesturing to the payment on the table, and followed him out to the car.
All the while wondering what the hell had just gone on.
It couldn’t be easy for him right now, but sometimes that man was so guarded – not telling her what he was feeling or struggling with – he didn’t help himself.
If he really hadn’t wanted to go out for lunch, then he should have said so back at home. She wasn’t a frickin’ mind-reader.
Then, as she watched him walk rather uncomfortably to the car, she reminded herself, he was only a few weeks post a delicate surgery.
He’d also had to cope with learning he had cancer, after everything he’d already been through with his family, and she felt a bit rotten at getting frustrated with him.
But dammit, he was just so in on himself sometimes.
There was a frosty atmosphere in the car, both lost in their own thoughts. She didn’t dare say anything more about dropping by the beach bungalow. It was hardly worth it anyhow, with this ‘wobble’ going on between them. Another time …