‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Cathy said. She was about to say more when Iris called her over. ‘I’m sorry… it looks as though I’m needed. Thanks so much for your recipe and hopefully I’ll see you next week.’
Cathy went over to Iris, who lowered her voice as she glanced at Erica, currently wiping down the worktop where she’d been rolling her pastry. ‘Have you checked nothing is missing today?’
‘Yes,’ Cathy said patiently.
‘So… no more strange incidents?’
‘No,’ Cathy said, beginning to wish that she hadn’t told Iris where the missing blender had ended up and how she’d got it back.
Iris looked satisfied, and Cathy left it at that. Even if there had been anything missing, she wasn’t about to start demanding to search everyone’s bags before they left – that was one sure-fire way to make sure people didn’t come back again.
Twenty-One
Cathy had a few slices of the barmbrack wrapped up in her bag for Fleur to taste. She was on her way to do an extra shift at French for Flowers. She was sure Fleur would enjoy it – Fleur often said herself she’d never met a cake she didn’t like – and Cathy thought it had turned out pretty well for a first try; well enough to give out.
As she’d baked the previous evening she’d been filled with a great sense of contentment. Life was looking up – she felt certain of it. Cookery club was going well and everyone seemed to be enjoying it (even if they didn’t always make it), her little book was coming together, she had lots of new friends and then there was Matthias…
Of course, Matthias was an unknown quantity, but Cathy allowed herself the luxury to imagine that it could go somewhere. He’d definitely been interested, and her hunch had been borne out by the barrage of not-so-subtle hints that Erica kept throwing at her. It might have been that her friend was excited, or just happy to be proven right about how perfect their pairing might be, and she said a lot of things that Cathy took with a pinch of salt, but the one bit of advice that she had given, about being certain Cathy would find her brother on the canal path this morning with his dog, was one that Cathy was certainly going to heed today.
Her hair had been left down today and the glossing spray liberally applied. She’d put on some make-up again too, enough to make it worth the effort but natural enough to look as if she wasn’t trying too hard. The best coat had come out, as had some little diamond stud earrings that she hadn’t worn since the last wedding she’d been to, which had been at least five years ago, if not longer. It was a lot of effort for a walk to work, but unlike other days when she felt it might have been a bit wasted, today she enjoyed the process and hadn’t minded getting up a bit earlier to do it. Today, she felt as if it might just be appreciated.
She held on to that hope as she walked the canal path. The weather was being kind to her too; though it was cold, the sun was out and the ground had dried so she wasn’t constantly slipping on hidden patches of mud. She walked with the sun on her face and a spring in her step, the frosty air of the morning filling her lungs, her eyes on the path ahead, constantly searching, bursting with nervous anticipation. However, it was almost twenty minutes later before she was rewarded. She’d just about given up, Matthias and his dog nowhere in sight, before she heard panting from behind and turned to see Guin racing towards her. Just as he reached her, he veered from the path and went haring across the scrubland with the sort of joyful abandon that only a dog could display. Cathy stopped and broke into a broad smile as Matthias strode in his wake.
‘Good morning,’ he said, catching up with her.
‘It’s a nice one,’ Cathy replied, immediately groaning inwardly once again at her boring response.
‘It is,’ he said. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘Work,’ she said.
‘Ah. Erica says you work at the market.’
‘French for Flowers…’
He looked blank.
‘Clearly you don’t buy many flowers,’ she said with a laugh. ‘It’s the name of the florist.’
‘Not for a while,’ he admitted with a sheepish look. ‘Nobody to buy them for.’
‘You could get them for your mum.’
‘I could, but if she can’t eat it she doesn’t usually want it,’ he said.
Cathy giggled.
He gave a suddenly awkward smile. What would he have said, she wondered, if she’d told him that she’d walked this path hoping to see him even when she hadn’t had to go to work? Or that there was a far shorter route into work and she could have taken that too, only she’d wanted to see him here? Would that have sounded a bit desperate?
Maybe, she decided, and left her original reply to stand on its own.
‘So she’d love you,’ he added.
‘Your mum? Would she?’
‘Well, you can bake. Erica says you’re pretty good too, like Bake Off standard.’
Cathy blushed. ‘Oh, I don’t think I’m anywhere near that good. I do enjoy it, though. I suppose that makes me sound a bit boring.’
‘Not at all. I’ve often thought I’d like to take cookery lessons but I think I might be one of those people who are unteachable. I can open a tin of beans or set the timer on a microwave as well as anyone, but that’s about my limit.’
‘Nobody is unteachable,’ Cathy said.
He smiled, holding her in a gaze that made her legs suddenly feel like jelly. ‘Would you put money on that? I think I might be the man to prove your theory wrong.’
‘I bet I could teach you,’ she said, feeling all at once incredibly shy and uncharacteristically bold.
‘Now, there’s a challenge,’ he said, laughing again. ‘You may live to regret that.’
‘I don’t think so,’ she said with a coquettish look, feeling bolder by the second.
‘So you walk this route every day?’ he asked.
‘Sometimes I come this way for a change,’ she said. ‘There is a quicker route. If I’ve got time I prefer to come along here, though. The other way is through the estate and it’s not as nice.’
God, Cathy wanted to punch herself right now. She was so bloody boring she was even boring herself, but she couldn’t think of anything interesting to say now that she needed to.
‘Weird, isn’t it?’ he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘How things turn out. Us chatting out here and then it turning out that you’ve known my sister all along. What are the chances…?’
‘It is,’ Cathy said. ‘I really like Erica. I’ve only just got to know her, really. She came to a charity coffee morning at St Cuthbert’s – that’s how we met.’
‘Oh yeah, she’s always doing stuff like that. A sucker for a charity event is Erica. Not that I think that’s a bad thing, of course. It’s just nice if you have time for that sort of thing.’ He paused, and suddenly looked mortified. ‘Not that I’m insinuating you have nothing better to do, or anything…’
‘I can’t say that I do, to be honest,’ Cathy said, smiling. ‘I wasn’t offended – I didn’t even think anything of your comment. I do have a lot of time on my hands – at least, I did. Less so these days with the cookery club and other things.’