As she let herself back in she could hear Erica and Tansy chatting in the kitchen. It reminded her forcefully of all the reasons she’d sent Jonas home and instantly her mood lightened.
‘All sorted?’ Erica asked cheerily.
‘Yes,’ Cathy said. ‘I hope so.’
Tansy was less easily put off. ‘Who was it?’
‘Just an old friend.’ Cathy sat at the table and put a hand to the teapot to check if it was still warm.
‘What kind of old friend?’ Tansy asked, ignoring Erica’s warning look.
‘Just someone I used to know. He was having a bit of trouble… wanted some advice.’
‘Did he used to be your boyfriend?’
Cathy looked up. She’d felt the need to hide this but perhaps being totally straight was the best way forward. What they’d make of it and what they might tell Matthias was another matter, but she’d done nothing wrong here. She was tired of feeling guilty for everything, especially things that were out of her control.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But it’s years since we were together.’
Erica’s mouth dropped open as she slotted the pieces together.
‘Don’t worry,’ Cathy said, ‘he won’t be back.’
‘What did he want?’ Erica asked.
‘I don’t think even he knew the answer to that,’ Cathy replied.
But she knew what she wanted, and Cathy wasn’t about to jeopardise that for anything.
Thirty-Two
It was the last cookery club before Christmas. Cathy was pleased to see a full turnout and a lot of excitement. Iris and Dora were sporting reindeer ears; Beth, Alicia and Lindsey had on matching jumpers that were covered in little flashing fairy lights; Colin had donned a Santa hat; Myrtle was wearing a halo; and Tansy and Erica had new Christmas aprons (though Tansy looked far from happy wearing hers). Cathy was wearing a jumper that Matthias had bought for her, half in jest, but that she loved. It had a Christmas tree covered in real baubles on it so that she clanked and jangled every time she moved.
‘OK, folks,’ she announced to the room, ‘we probably ought to get started, otherwise we’re going to run out of time.’
A cacophony followed as everyone got out spoons and bowls and measuring scales. Cathy was baking herself today and she did the same. She’d set a fairly simple challenge of Christmas-themed gingerbread and she was damned if she was going to miss out on her own batch of that. She hummed along to the radio that Erica had insisted on bringing in, still tuned to the station that played constant Christmas songs as she spooned syrup into a pan. She was going to miss her little gang of chefs over Christmas, but for the first time in a long time she was looking forward to the day anyway. Matthias hadn’t waited for her to ask about Christmas lunch; he’d invited her to join him and Tansy. He wasn’t much of a cook, he’d said, but he’d give it a bash. Cathy was only too happy to help (or take over) and she was sure that Tansy wouldn’t want to be left out. It promised to be a pleasant day and, who knew, maybe she and Matthias would even manage to snatch a few minutes alone if Tansy could take a subtle hint or two.
She licked a blob of syrup from her finger and glanced up to see Erica smile across the room at her. Cathy smiled back. Erica, of course, was going to be spending Christmas Day with Malcolm at his parents’ house. They were taking Erica’s mum along too, so it meant that she wouldn’t get to see Matthias, Cathy or Tansy that day, but they had arranged to meet up on Boxing Day instead.
Not long after they’d made a very rowdy start the vicar came in wearing his Christmas jumper and Iris very nearly passed out with excitement.
‘Oh, that’s lovely!’ she squeaked, racing over to him. ‘It’s the nativity scene! Wherever did you get it?’
He grinned. ‘Lovely Gladys Palmer knitted it – isn’t she clever?’
Iris suddenly didn’t seem quite so enthusiastic. Perhaps Gladys Palmer was a rival, or perhaps Iris was jealous that he was so pleased with something somebody other than her had done for him.
‘Oh,’ she said, visibly deflating. ‘Yes, it’s very good.’
‘Oh, Gladys is good!’ Dora called over with a wicked grin, never one to pass up on an opportunity to wind Iris up. ‘What she can’t do with a set of knitting needles isn’t worth a postage stamp.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Iris said. ‘She doesn’t come to church all that often.’
‘She comes when she can,’ the vicar said cheerily. ‘I can’t ask for more than that.’
‘I come every week,’ Iris said, puffing up, ‘rain or shine!’
‘And I’m grateful for it,’ the vicar said, restoring some of Iris’s spring as her look of annoyance transformed back into a smile. ‘I’d think the world had come to an end if you weren’t there on a Sunday.’
He had a young woman with him who hadn’t spoken yet and Cathy wondered if he was going to introduce her because nobody else seemed to know who she was either, though there had been plenty of curious appraisals. Cathy didn’t recognise her and supposed she must be someone who worked for the church.
‘So have you finally come to join us?’ Cathy asked brightly. ‘We’re making gingerbread today if you’re interested.’
‘I wish I could but it’s a flying visit,’ he said. ‘I do actually need to have a quick word with you, though.’
He gestured to a quieter corner away from the rest of the group. Curious eyes followed as Cathy joined him.
‘Oh…’ Cathy wiped her hands on her apron. ‘What can I do for you?’
He gestured to the young woman who’d come in with him. ‘I’d like you to meet Lydia.’
Lydia stepped forward and extended her hand for Cathy to shake. ‘It’s lovely to meet you; Simon has told me so much about you.’
‘Hello,’ Cathy said, feeling slightly bemused, not least because she’d got so used to calling the vicar the vicar that the notion of him having an actual real name was somewhat of a surprise.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ the vicar said, ‘but I thought I’d bring Lydia along to meet you because she’s interested in your recipe book.’
‘You’d like a copy?’ Cathy began. ‘I don’t have the full one – that’s at home – but I can do some photocopies of the ones you want to try…’
‘I actually work for a publisher called Modern Traditions. We specialise in homey guides – things like sewing and crafts and cookery. How to paint or make pots or stencil… that sort of thing.’
‘We worked together once before on an origami book that raised money for charity,’ the vicar said. ‘She also happens to be my cousin…’
Cathy smiled but still didn’t really understand how any of this concerned her.
‘Lydia had mentioned to me a few months ago she was looking for something a bit newer and fresher, something around cooking. She’s visiting for Christmas and I thought, why not bring her along to meet you?’
‘Me?’ Cathy blinked, more confused than ever.
‘I think your recipe collection might be just what I’m looking for,’ Lydia said. ‘Right now a book of wholesome, family-friendly and accessible cooking is what everyone is after – the right one is harder to find than you might imagine. Simon said he thought you might be the perfect face to front it too, and, having met you, I’m already fairly confident he’s right.’