Page 89 of The Second Chance Supper Club

‘Ah, so that’s how you stop it melting away into the grill pan,’ he commented.

‘Yep, simple when you know how.’

‘I’m picking up tips all the time.’ He smiled then.

‘We’ll make a chef of you, yet,’ Cath responded.

The act of cooking was thankfully thawing the atmosphere between them. It gave them something else to focus on at least. She was keeping a close eye on the grill, as the cheese could cook very quickly. And then, she could feel his breath somewhere near her shoulder. Was he watching that closely, too. Oh. A charge of electric raced between them … well, in her imagination, of course. She couldn’t like him anymore, not in that way. And if she bloody well did, she could never show it now. It was only friendship on offer. Suddenly she felt way too hot. It was the grill, must be the grill. To keep the Supper Club intact and ongoing, the two of them merely needed to muddle through politely. But, here, having to pretend she felt nothing, this was just excruciating.

A delicate bubbling sound and gorgeous cheesy aromas were filling the kitchen. Thank heavens, it was ready. The cheese rounds toasted and lightly golden. It was a miracle she hadn’t burnt it, to be honest. Time to serve them with the chutney and salad leaves, and to sit down and eat … if she could manage to. She gave herself the smallest of the two pieces, and took a deep breath, before she turned around to face Will.

‘Ready.’ The food might well be, but she didn’t feel ready for any of this at all.

‘Thanks, that was delicious.’ Will sat back on the kitchen bar stool.

They’d decided to give the dining room – which had been set up with glasses and cutlery for six – a miss. It would have felt very odd, the two of them sat there formally at the table, looking across at each other. Will had suggested they stay in the kitchen and sit at the breakfast bar, which felt far more casual, propped side by side, and was a bit of a relief to Cath, to be honest.

‘And it didn’t take long to cook either,’ he observed. ‘Yeah, it’s really easy to be fair. You just grill the goat’s cheese, arrange salad on a plate, add a dollop of chutney, and you’re there.’

‘Hah, I think even I could manage that. And hey, fingers crossed for the main …’ He raised his eyebrows along with a smile. ‘So, what else has been on for you today?’ he asked. ‘Oh, had a short stroll down by the river. Dog free,’ she added with a roll of her eyes, remembering all too well that fateful day. ‘Ah.’

‘And hey, thanks again for all your help that day.’ She understood that it wouldn’t have been easy for him to come to her aid.

‘No worries. I did it for the lads.’

Ooh, that sounded a bit prickly.

She soldiered on with the conversation. ‘And I took a trip to the Kirkton deli for the cheese, and then later this afternoon I had a couple of online tutoring sessions.’

Will looked up at her with those dark expressive eyes. ‘You always did want to be a teacher, didn’t you.’ His voice was soft. ‘Yes, and I was, well, still am in a way, with the tutoring … a bloody good one too.’ She was proud of her job, her achievements over the years, not just the titles but the fact that she was able to help those kids.

‘It’s a part of who you are, isn’t it, teaching,’ he added thoughtfully.

‘Yeah …’ Oh my, he got it, her, more than Trevor ever had.

She went quiet, the past tense of his previous words sinking in. ‘You remembered that, didn’t you … even before our chat the other day.’

‘I remembered it all, Cathy.’ He slipped back to his old name for her. ‘There was something about that week … about you … that stayed with me.’

His tone shifted everything between them. She let her gaze settle on him. He then seemed to shake himself out of it, leaping up off his seat. He took a dish of salad out of the fridge, and proceeded to cut the olive loaf. ‘Yeah, Andreas made the bread himself, it’s so nice of them. Let’s hope Dan’s okay, that migraine sounded awful.’

‘Yes, let’s hope so.’

He took the bake, which he’d prepared earlier, out of the oven, and began to dish out his meal. Smells of herby chicken, roasted peppers, olives and warmed bread, filled the room. He carried two plates over. ‘Well, here goes, Will’s Easy Greek-Style Chicken Bake. Good luck to me … and to you for eating it.’ He gave a warm smile, which was lovely to see.

Could they in fact move on from all this? Could she help him learn to cook, to enjoy life again … one step, one day at a time. Her heart seemed way too full.

Dinner was really tasty, though with her stomach still fluttering anxiously, she couldn’t manage to eat as much as she’d have liked to. The cooking lessons with Dan and Andreas had certainly paid off, and the all-in-one chicken bake with new potatoes, peppers, feta and olives went down well, despite Cath’s appetite not being up to scratch. She declined pudding, though it looked delicious, deciding that would be a step too far for her rollercoaster tummy. Was it time to go?

They’d survived the meal at least, Cath thought with a sense of relief. And they seemed to have made a bridge towards a new, slightly faltering sense of friendship, well she hoped so. They could work on things from here.

Will was making coffee for them both in his Nespresso machine. It smelt rich and aromatic. Oh, she couldn’t just up and go quite yet. But then, in just a few sips’ time, she’d be heading home.

Coffee to hand, they sat a while longer on the stools, side by side. The tension felt palpable between them.

‘Jeez, I am still finding this difficult, Cath,’ confessed Will, staring down into his cup. ‘Everything you told me the other day … it’s been hard to take in.’

‘It’s okay, I understand. And I’m sorry … about everything that happened, that I wasn’t brave enough to explain it all to you back then. I should have done. But I’m hoping, somehow, we can find a way forward now. I’d love to keep the Supper Club group going … for all of us.’ She didn’t dare tell him how much she felt for him now, too.