‘They’ll have to pay for it if they have it from us,’ Iris said, for want of something to say that didn’t admit Dora was right.
‘I’m sure we can sort something out,’ Cathy said.
The rest of her reply was cut short by two more arrivals – two young women in their twenties. She hadn’t seen them at St Cuthbert’s before. Iris raced over to greet them, and if there had been two of her they would have formed a distinct pincer movement to make sure the newcomers didn’t escape, because for a moment, as they looked around at the mostly octogenarian occupants of the room, they looked as if they might try to.
‘Welcome!’ Iris said. ‘Have you come for the class?’
‘Yes,’ one of them said uncertainly. ‘Is this the right place? The cookery class?’
‘It is.’ Cathy went over with a warm smile. ‘I’m Cathy and I’ll be on hand to help you out while you bake. I’m terrible with names and I might struggle today, so I’ll apologise in advance, but tell me yours anyway.’
‘I’m Lindsey,’ one of the young women said. She pointed to her friend. ‘And this is Beth.’
‘Brilliant!’ Cathy said. ‘You’re a few minutes early but that’s good – plenty of time to get settled before we begin. How about you find yourself a space at the worktop and get your stuff out? As soon as we’ve got everyone here I’ll introduce myself properly and we’ll make a start.’
The women went off to a corner of the kitchen, talking to each other in hushed tones as they did.
A few minutes later more people arrived. And Cathy greeted them as she’d greeted everyone else. She was beginning to feel pleased at the turnout. It wasn’t huge but, if she’d been honest, she’d been a little terrified that nobody would bother to come at all. Briefly, she raised her eyes to the ceiling and wondered what her mum would say if she could see her now. Would she be proud? Cathy hadn’t actually done anything yet, but even getting this far felt like an achievement. If she’d been told six months before that she’d be organising and delivering something like this, she wouldn’t have believed it.
As Cathy was explaining one or two things about what to expect from the class to the newcomers, Erica arrived. She had a young girl with her. Erica didn’t have children of her own, but this girl couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen and she looked remarkably like Erica, with the same mid-brown shade of hair, the same hazel eyes and the same button nose. But whereas Erica’s expression was open and friendly, the girl’s couldn’t have been further from that. She looked thoroughly bored already, giving the kitchen and its occupants a sneering once-over. Erica looked her way and, seeing it, turned the smile she’d worn for Cathy into a warning glare.
‘Don’t!’ Cathy heard her say.
The girl’s lip curled a little more. ‘I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do.’
‘Whatever it is,’ Erica replied, ‘I know it won’t be good.’
Cathy made her way over. ‘I’m so glad you could come,’ she said. She had a smile for Erica, and a rather more reserved one for Erica’s young companion, who clearly didn’t want to be there. Cathy wondered what the deal was, but she guessed that explanations might have to wait.
‘Of course we were going to come!’ Erica said. ‘We wouldn’t miss your first class!’
‘I would,’ the girl muttered, and Cathy saw Erica give her another warning glare.
‘I think it’s more of a club than a class, really,’ Cathy said. ‘I’m hardly a proper teacher.’
‘Well,’ Erica said, ‘you’ll know more than both of us. This is my niece, Tansy,’ she added, angling her head at the girl who’d come with her.
‘Hello, Tansy,’ Cathy said. ‘That’s a lovely name.’
Tansy broke into a fake smile that was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
‘Well,’ Cathy continued uncertainly. ‘It’s nice to see you here. Have you done much baking?’
‘About as much as me, I’m afraid,’ Erica answered for her. ‘So you’ve got your work cut out.’
‘It’s much easier than you might think,’ Cathy said to Tansy. ‘You’ll pick it up in no time.’
Tansy gave the distinct impression that all she wanted to pick up was her pace as she left the building, but she said nothing and, as Erica gave her yet another warning look, smoothed her expression into something that – if not friendly – at least now didn’t look as if she wanted to kill everyone in the room.
Cathy let a few more minutes pass. It meant the lesson would start a little late, but she didn’t mind that because she wanted to make certain nobody else was due to come before she started. The last thing she wanted was to keep explaining the beginning bit over and over again for new arrivals – not only would she find it frustrating but it would annoy the other participants too.
As she checked a few things off with Iris everyone chatted, those who knew each other already catching up and those who didn’t getting to know the others. All apart from Tansy, who stood next to Erica with a scowl that could have been set in stone. Why had Erica brought someone who so clearly didn’t want to be there?
Cathy’s nerves had settled more and more as everyone arrived, but now that the session was about to begin they were back with a vengeance. She looked up at the clock to see it was five past the hour, and then once more at the doorway, before deciding that if she didn’t make a start she was going to pass out with fear. If anyone else turned up now they’d just have to catch up as best they could.
Eleven
Iris had offered to stay behind to help Cathy clean St Cuthbert’s kitchen, and then Dora had offered too; Cathy had to laugh because it was clear from her face that Iris didn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed. But Cathy was grateful because the vicar had stipulated that his agreement to the classes going ahead was on the proviso that the kitchen was left spotless every time they used it. Although people had cleaned their own stations, Cathy had decided that the best way to comply with this request was probably to go over everything again once everyone had left, so that way she’d know the place was definitely clean. Right now, Dora was running a damp cloth over the doors of the ovens.
‘I didn’t care much for that young girl,’ she said.
Cathy turned to her. ‘Which one?’ she asked, though she knew exactly who Dora meant. Partly because nobody had really taken to Tansy (as far as Cathy could tell), and partly because Erica’s niece was probably the only person in that room who could have been confidently referred to as a young girl.
‘The one who came with Erica. Face like a bulldog chewing a wasp.’ Dora scrubbed so vigorously at a burned-on grease spot that Cathy was tempted to run and take the cloth from her, certain that such violent exercise couldn’t end well in a woman of Dora’s advanced age. ‘Never stopped complaining and hardly an expression that wasn’t a sneer. If she was mine she’d get a smack round the ear.’
‘Good thing she’s not then,’ Iris put in. ‘Because that sort of thing has been banned by the government, you know.’