Page 7 of The Second Chance Supper Club

‘Busy day, Nikki?’ asked Dan.

‘You could say that, it’s been bloody manic. And old Mr T had a fall, so as well as cleaning his house, I ended up taking him to A&E in Alnwick for a check over. No major damage done, thank goodness. But, of course, that was an extra hour and a half on my day.’

‘Poor old Terry. And he’s okay now?’ Dan seemed concerned. ‘Yeah, just a bit shaken up, bless him. I left him back at home with a cheese and pickle sandwich and a cup of tea. I’ll pop back in the morning and check on him again.’

‘Well, let him know if there’s anything he needs from the shop, we’ll happily deliver if he’s feeling a bit shaky.’

‘Aw, will do.’ She whizzed her provisions to the counter, adding, as she glanced at Cath, ‘Sorry, pet, is it okay to nip in with these bits first?’

‘Of course.’ Cath had all the time in the world these days, almost too much time. How life could change.

‘I don’t know,’ Nikki chattered on, ‘I used to love cooking the family meals from scratch, but it’s all such a rush nowadays and it always seems to fall to me to work out what’s for tea. Well, I’m all out of ideas …’ Poor thing, she sounded stressed. ‘Well, I’m sure they’ll be fine having this tonight,’ said Dan kindly. ‘And if there’re any complaints tell them to cook their own … especially Kev. That’s the hubbie,’ he added for Cath’s benefit.

‘Oh, to have someone cook for me for once. That would be such a treat. Kev can just about manage to put a pizza in the oven, and that’s it.’

‘Well … nice to meet you,’ said Cath.

‘Sorry, you must think I’m rude, but I really do have to go.’ She gathered up her things.

‘No problem. Bye.’

‘Bye. Thanks.’ And she was off in a buzz of frenetic energy with the woosh of the closing door.

‘Now, that lovely lady is Nikki,’ Dan explained. ‘Lives in the village, three kids, a lazy husband and has her own cleaning company. Really nice, but always in a spin, dashing off somewhere or other.’

Andreas then popped out from the back storeroom to join them. ‘Was that our resident whirlwind, by any chance?’

‘It was indeed,’ Dan answered.

‘Gosh, I remember those days,’ joined in Cath. ‘Working all hours, juggling the afterschool clubs and running Mum’s taxi, doing the washing, ironing, sorting out all the meals. It’s never-ending when you’ve got a young family.’ A sudden stab of nostalgia hit her, for her old life, when Adam was younger and she’d felt like the hub of the home. Then she added, with a twinge in her voice, ‘And now, well I’d love to have someone to cook for. I’ve recently found out cooking for one isn’t very exciting.’

‘Oh, I can imagine. It’s the joy of sharing food that makes it worthwhile. We love our cooking,’ said Andreas.

‘And eating! That’s the best part.’ Dan grinned. ‘Absolutely. And I do like trying out a new recipe,’ his partner added.

Cath could imagine Andreas looking very dashing in the kitchen, all Mediterranean chef-style.

‘Oh, so do I … well, I used to. Actually,’ she added wistfully, ‘I’d love to have someone to cook for again. To have someone to savour the flavours, to sit around the table and chat with. Someone to look after, I suppose.’

Both lads were looking at her with sad eyes. Cath suddenly felt a bit awkward. The words had just flowed with her thoughts, and it felt like she’d opened up a little too much. She hardly knew these guys after all.

‘Indeed, cooking with love provides food for the soul. Food was always the heart of our home,’ Andreas agreed. ‘My mother is Greek Cypriot, so food is central to our family. There was always something tasty simmering on the hob or baking in the oven.’

‘Oh yes, talking of which, I’ve come back in for some of your baklava, Andreas. I think I have an addiction already.’

‘Ah, well, sorry, petal, but we’re all out of that today. I took the last few pieces through to Mama in the care home. I’ll be making a fresh batch tomorrow, though. If you call back at around ten-thirty in the morning, it should be ready.’

‘Perfect, just in time for my morning coffee.’

‘And in the meanwhile, can I offer you a slice of my Greek-style honey cake?’

Cath was drawn to the glass-dome-covered cake stand, where a gorgeous honey-drizzled golden sponge sat. ‘Ooh, how can I refuse? Looks amazing.’

Andreas served a generous honey-orange-scented slice, ready to box and take away.

Out of nowhere, there was a sudden scamper of paws and a ‘woof’. A white fluffy terrier appeared with waggy-tailed enthusiasm at Cath’s feet.

‘Ah, sorry. The little minx,’ Dan exclaimed. ‘She’s done it again! Escaped out of the doggie gate somehow.’