‘I’m really looking forward to it,’ she said.
Cathy wished she could say the same. For a few days she’d been excited for her first class, but as it had drawn closer she’d started to wish she’d said no to the idea. The nerves had begun to build a few days before, and by this morning she was about ready to throw up what little breakfast she’d managed to force down. It would be fine once they got started – she knew that – and it wasn’t like anyone was expecting anything spectacular. She hadn’t pretended to be a qualified teacher, or that anyone would be a professional-standard baker by the time they’d finished, but the idea of standing in front of a bunch of people giving advice and tuition, like she knew more than them, still made her feel like a fraud. It was too late to run away now – the first participants would be arriving at any moment – but Lord, did Cathy want to.
She’d got there an hour early to find only Iris around to let her in and had taken her time to set up, hoping that feeling utterly prepared would help to calm her nerves, but she’d finished all that with time to spare and, in the end, the sitting around waiting with nothing to take her mind off it had only made things worse.
At least the kitchen at St Cuthbert’s church hall was big and surprisingly modern and well equipped. It was bright and clean, the walls painted a simple cream and the sunlight from the windows filtered by neutral-coloured vertical blinds, and fitted to a standard that any restaurant would be proud of. There were stainless-steel worktops and sinks, one of those stretchy shower nozzle things to rinse dishes (Cathy had never known what they were called) and a bank of four ovens, as well as numerous hobs and cupboards crammed with utensils, crockery, pots and pans. It was almost like whoever had stocked it had been waiting for something like Cathy’s class. Iris had told her that they had quite a lot of equipment, but Cathy had been a little sceptical about it until she’d seen the impressive inventory for herself. She supposed they must do a lot of catering for various events, but she hadn’t really considered it before. Iris had shown Cathy around first thing and, though ordinarily the chance to use a space like this would have been heaven for Cathy, today it was wasted on her because she just couldn’t think about that.
‘Do you have everything you need?’ Iris asked.
‘I think so.’
Cathy gave the worktop a vague sweep. She could well have needed lots of things, but she couldn’t make her brain work right now to figure out what might be missing. However, she’d made meticulous plans during the days leading up to this one so she had to assume that she probably had everything covered. Even if she hadn’t, whatever was missing would be a thing so minor they could probably manage without it. She just wished that everyone would get here so they could make a start and then, perhaps, her nerves might calm a little. It wasn’t like she was waiting to be shot at dawn and she knew it was irrational to be so stressed about something so insignificant, but still, the worst thing about all of this was the waiting.
‘Oh, look,’ Iris said, her gaze going to the door. ‘Here’s Dora. Why she’s come I don’t know – it’s hardly aimed at her.’
Cathy couldn’t think why it wouldn’t be aimed at Dora – if she wanted to learn how to bake or get better at it or simply socialise, then why wouldn’t she come? That had been the main idea behind setting these classes up after all. She suspected that it had more to do with Iris being annoyed that Dora was going to be here, baiting her all morning, which, if Cathy had been in a less stressed mood, would have been quite funny. They were such an odd pair – half the time best friends and half the time mortal enemies – but Cathy liked them both.
‘Hello, Dora.’ Cathy slid off her stool and went to take some of Dora’s bags while she got her coat off and hung it up.
‘I’ve come because it was my idea,’ Dora said pointedly as she glared at Iris, who – to her credit – blushed; she’d clearly thought her cousin hadn’t heard her comment and was mortified to discover she had.
‘It wasn’t your idea; it was mine,’ Iris said sulkily, not to be beaten anyway.
‘You wouldn’t know a good idea if it bit you on the nose,’ Dora said. She looked at Cathy. ‘Wasn’t it my idea?’
Cathy glanced from one to the other. ‘Um…’
If only someone else would arrive to take the heat off her.
Perhaps someone up there was listening, because just as she was thinking this, Myrtle arrived, dragging a wheeled shopping basket behind her. Cathy almost launched herself at the newcomer.
‘Myrtle! I’m so glad you could come!’
‘I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,’ Myrtle replied, taking off her gloves and reaching into her shopper. She pulled out a plastic tub and took the lid off before placing it on the worktop. Cathy peered inside, expecting it to be the first of the ingredients they’d need for the Madeira loaf she was planning to get them all to bake, but to her surprise it was full of mints.
‘Oh, you’ve brought mint imperials!’ Dora exclaimed, marching over and popping one into her mouth. ‘Are they in stock again at the pound store?’
‘I bought twelve bags,’ Myrtle said, ‘just in case they run out again.’
Cathy suspected they’d be running out very quickly if everyone was buying twelve bags at a time just in case, but she thought better of saying so.
Myrtle shook the tub at her. ‘Would you like one?’
‘Maybe later,’ Cathy replied with a faintly bemused smile. ‘Thank you.’
Myrtle gave a solemn nod as she took one for herself and then placed the tub back on the worktop. ‘I’ll just leave them out here so people can help themselves.’
‘Have you got all your ingredients, Myrtle?’ Iris asked with a slight tinge of impatience in her tone. ‘Because we don’t have any to spare if you don’t have what you need, you know.’
‘Actually, I do,’ Cathy put in, and Iris shot her such a withering look that she wished she hadn’t.
‘People,’ Iris replied, with great emphasis on the word, as if people were somehow the great unwashed, ‘need to come prepared otherwise we’ll spend half the lesson sorting them out with things they haven’t brought. Isn’t having all your ingredients ready the first rule of cookery?’
‘Well, yes,’ Cathy replied, wondering when Iris had morphed into a mini dictator. If it had happened this morning she’d somehow missed it. Was this what a bit of responsibility did to her? ‘But this is such an informal morning that it doesn’t really matter. For the first lesson, at least, I thought I’d bring a bit spare because people might not realise they have to bring their own.’
‘There were specific instructions on the posters,’ Iris said. ‘And we gave out ingredient lists in advance to everyone who signed up.’
‘What if someone just decides to come along today who hasn’t signed up?’ Dora asked. ‘They won’t have seen the ingredient list?’
Iris pursed her lips, but much as she might have wanted to give an answer she didn’t have one.
‘Exactly,’ Myrtle said. ‘So Cathy is right to have extra with her.’