Dora shrugged carelessly. ‘Make it some kind of community thing for the needy and he would.’
‘But that would be lying to him!’
Dora rolled her eyes. ‘Not if it was some kind of community thing for the needy.’
‘Yes, but what needy person needs cookery lessons?’ Iris asked, looking confused. ‘Surely they have more pressing needs than that?’
‘You know,’ Colin said thoughtfully, ‘that’s not actually a bad idea, Dora. You could charge a pound or two a head, get people to bring their own ingredients in, and the admission money could go to the church fund. Or, if you wanted to make it more community-spirited, you could make it free for people in need of a little extra support – lonely pensioners, people with nobody to fall back on or who have particular emotional needs… that sort of thing. The more vulnerable members of society that could do with the monotony of their week breaking up – let’s face it, there are plenty of them.’
Cathy suspected that quite a few of them might be in the room now and, judging by his meaningful look at Iris, Colin knew for sure they were.
Iris said nothing for a moment. She sipped at her tea and a strange silence fell over the room. But then she looked up. ‘I think the vicar might go for that.’
‘I think so too,’ Colin said.
‘I think he’d love it,’ Dora agreed, and Myrtle made an enthusiastic noise through her mouthful of jammy dodger to show her support too.
Cathy looked at Erica, Dora, Iris and Colin in turn. Then she looked at everyone else, slightly gobsmacked that nobody had yet pointed out what a stupid idea it was and how obvious it was to anyone that she would be rubbish at leading any sort of class. And at what point was anyone going to ask her if she even wanted to teach cookery classes – whether the students were needy or not?
Almost as if she’d read her mind, Erica turned to Cathy. ‘What do you think? Would you fancy it?’
Cathy’s frown deepened. ‘I don’t know. It would depend on so much.’
‘It’s all hypothetical, of course,’ Iris said. ‘Very much up in the air and the vicar may well say no. It may prove to be quite impractical too, even if he says yes, but is the idea of it something that appeals to you?’
Cathy formed the word: no.
But she stopped herself from saying it. Apart from working a couple of days with Fleur she was quite bored day to day and she couldn’t rely on social events like this to fill the gap, or expect that new friends would always be available to meet up. The way she’d reacted to meeting Jonas again was currently playing a part in her thought processes too. Seeing him and the way his life had moved on had thrown her – not only in the way it had shocked her but in that it had called into question everything about her life as it currently was, whether there was any point to it and certainly whether there was any point to her. But today… being here today with this lovely bunch of people she felt more hopeful, more optimistic. Perhaps she could try again to turn things around and, with the support of the St Cuthbert’s coffee gang (which was what she was going to call them from now on), she could do that.
Feeling useful to someone in some capacity would certainly go some way to doing that, surely? Maybe something like this could be the answer, the thing she’d been searching for all along. And she did love baking so much that it couldn’t be that much of a hardship to share her passion with others, could it? Would it be so bad to give it a try?
Anyway, she reasoned, these thoughts flying through her head faster than she could keep up with, the vicar was probably going to say no anyway.
‘I’m not sure I’d be any good at teaching people,’ she said.
‘You wouldn’t have to make it that formal,’ Colin replied. ‘You would only have to supply the recipe, maybe do a quick demonstration… Everyone will simply get on with it. You’d go round giving help and guidance when they need it. It would really be a social thing more than anything else.’
‘And there are plenty of people who would benefit from knowing how to cook from scratch,’ Dora said. ‘Too many eating things from packets and tins these days – good home cooking is a fast-disappearing skill.’
Cathy wasn’t sure that was completely true – the number of cookery programmes on TV would argue against that – but she did see where Dora was coming from. If someone had grown up in a house where nobody cooked or they’d never been shown how to do anything, they’d have grown up with a relationship with food that was sadly lacking in real love or appreciation.
With every second that passed she was warming to the idea.
‘I suppose it might be alright. I might learn a thing or two as well – I don’t imagine everyone who’d come wouldn’t be able to cook at all.’
‘Exactly,’ Dora said. ‘They might just fancy a meet-up with other people who like cooking, or they might just want to get better, but even the worst cooks can have the odd trick or two up their sleeve…’
Dora’s glance rested on Myrtle for a moment. Luckily, she was preoccupied trying to wrestle the last custard cream from the bottom of the Waitrose selection pack and hadn’t noticed Dora looking at her. Cathy had to admit that she sort of saw what Dora was trying to say, though Myrtle seemed like a rather unkind example – after all, her courgette cake had been pretty good, even if Cathy had had to tinker with the recipe a bit as she’d gone along.
‘I’ll talk to the vicar,’ Iris said.
‘I thought you might,’ Dora said.
Iris looked sharply at her, but if Dora had meant any sarcasm, her expression of absolute innocence was giving nothing away.
‘I can’t promise anything though,’ Iris added.
‘I think it’s brilliant,’ Erica said warmly. ‘I think he’ll say yes – he’s got to. I’ll come; I’d love to learn how to make more cakes.’
‘Me too,’ Myrtle said.
‘Count me in,’ Colin added with a broad smile. ‘I’m one of your folks who’ve spent their lives eating from packets and tins, Dora. I’ve never so much as held a spatula but I’m willing to learn.’
Cathy blew out a breath as she surveyed the faces around her. She’d been expecting many things from her visit this morning, maybe even hoped for one or two, but this certainly hadn’t been one of them. Surprise plans and spontaneous decisions weren’t things that had featured highly in her life over the last few years, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about them. It’s alright, she told herself, the vicar will probably say no.
But what if he said yes?
Nine
‘And…?’
‘He said yes – we can go ahead and do the class.’
‘I can see you’re excited too.’
‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Yes, you’re glowing!’
Fleur smiled fondly at Cathy, who put a self-conscious hand to her face. It didn’t feel hot.
‘Am I?’
‘I haven’t seen you look so happy since… Well, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you look so happy.’
‘I’ve been happy,’ Cathy said, a slight defensive note creeping into her tone. ‘I’m not that miserable, am I?’