Page 70 of The Seaside Supper Club

After edging nearer, she looked up to catch his gaze. He seemed a little uncertain, bless him. Crikey, this was weird, like going back to the start. She tilted her face up towards his, her chest leaning against him now, her lips ready to brush his. Needing so much to feel that passion again, that intimacy. To show her love physically, if only in her kiss.

That was when he seemed to freeze.

‘Please, don’t, Cath.’ Will sat up straight, raking a hand through his hair, ‘This … us, it’s not helping. It’s too much.’ It was evidently all too soon for Will.

‘Umm, I was only looking to cuddle …’ Cath pulled back, feeling hurt. She knew he’d been having a rough time of it since the surgery. But what the hell was he saying? What did he mean by that ‘us’, exactly? Confusion swirled through her guts. ‘Look, I know you’re having a tough time, Will. You’re only a few weeks post-surgery. We knew it was never going to be easy … physically. And I don’t expect it all to be wine and roses just now, but please … please, don’t shut me out again.’

It wasn’t just the discarded kiss, the guards were going back up emotionally, too. Things should be getting easier for him, for them, but instead she felt it was all getting harder.

‘I just want to help,’ she added, when he didn’t respond.

He’d cut her off before, earlier on in their relationship, when times had got difficult. It seemed to be his defence mechanism. However much she tried to be understanding – and of course, he’d been through so much with his wife’s illness and passing, and now this massive upheaval with his own health problems – Cath couldn’t pretend any longer that it didn’t hurt. Not when he pushed her away like this. She thought they’d moved on from that closed state, that they were a team now. Before the cancer diagnosis and this operation, these past months together had been wonderful. Filling her with hopes and dreams for the future … their future. But jeez, this evening, and the day in the coffee shop, felt so very different from that. It was like a black cloud was settling over them.

‘I’m not shutting you out.’ In contrast to his words, his voice had a harsh, steely tone. ‘I just need some time to deal with this. Time just for me … now and again.’

‘Will, what’s bugging you? Have I done something wrong?’ She hated this wall that was mounting between them, that despite what he said was absolutely there. Since his surgery, he seemed to be building it back up, brick by brick.

‘Ah, of course, you haven’t.’ He seemed to soften, pausing to look up at her with those dark-hazel eyes. ‘But it feels too much, you being here all the time, fussing around me. I-I just need a bit of space, I suppose. Some time to get my head around what’s going on.’

Oh, how that hurt … when had caring become fussing for him? Okay, so she’d been coming around daily, sometimes twice a day … checking if he was okay. Bringing him meals that he and the girls could easily warm up, offering hugs along with the lasagne and the homemade curry. Putting the washing on, changing bedding. Someone for him to talk to, if he needed, or that was the bloody idea … a shoulder to lean on. She’d spent time chatting and trying her best with the girls, too. She thought she’d been providing comfort and support for them all. She was the safety net, or so she’d hoped.

But the two of them hadn’t kissed, other than a peck on the cheek, and she hadn’t stayed over at all since the op, nor he with her. These past few weeks, she’d offered for him to come to her cottage, but other than a brief coffee when he’d ventured out once for a walk through the village, he hadn’t seemed to want to spend time at hers. They hadn’t even made it back to the beach house. Other than receiving the odd hug, if somewhat stiffly, he seemed to be rejecting physical contact.

It was like he needed to try and cope with all of this on his own. She knew that toilet problems were an ongoing issue. She’d seen the many urinary pads in the bin. His trousers tellingly a little bulky. Had he hoped things might be back to normal, quicker than they were? Was this a lot to do with what was troubling him? It must be bloody awkward to deal with. Perhaps he’d just needed some privacy to cope with that.

‘Are you having problems, my love? Is it your bladder? The nurse warned all of that might take time,’ she probed gently.

‘Hah, that’s just the bloody start of it … honestly, you haven’t a damn clue!’ He’d flushed red.

‘Well, tell me. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is that’s troubling you.’

‘Maybe that’s just it, Cath. You’ve got it at last. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want you to see me to the bathroom. Or have you looking after me like I’m an old man. Maybe, I just want a bit of peace and goddam privacy.’

Dammit, he was hard work when he was like this. He was in such a dark mood. And she wasn’t at all sure how best to bring him out of it. But still his words stung.

She wished they’d had the chance to get to know each other for longer before all this had happened, to be more established as a couple – well, of course she wished it had never happened. But if they’d had that level of everyday intimacy, it would surely have helped at this stage of his treatment, with the difficult side-effects to deal with. Her mind flitted to Trevor, and pondered on the steadiness of a long marriage, that long-term knowledge of each other. When you knew each other inside out, little fazed you. But hey, that hadn’t stopped Trev from jumping ship, had it? she reminded herself sourly. She felt her own mood darken. She was trying her best to help, but bloody hell, at this point it seemed to be driving Will further away from her. He was exasperating.

Okay, so Will was evidently feeling extra vulnerable right now. But dammit, she wished he could find it in himself to open up and talk. How could they be a team without communicating?

‘So, that’s it. I try my best to look after you, and you just throw it all back in my face. Well, thanks for that,’ she responded bitterly. Oh, an awful thought hit her as her words spilled out, did he no longer want to be in this team of two?

‘Cath, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Please … can you just go.’ He looked downbeat.

Was this just a moment of sheer frustration, on Will’s part? He was once again putting up the emotional shutters and pretending – even to himself – that he could totally cope on his own.

‘Okay then, send me away. Shut me out if you must.’ Cath vented her frustration. ‘But I’ll not be far. You don’t get rid of me that easily. I’ll be here when you’re ready, Will …’ Somehow, she made it sound like a threat.

She sprung up off the sofa and stood, ready to go. She’d had enough of this, too, for tonight. They were going around in stressful circles, and it didn’t feel at all good.

She gave a parting glance, before she turned on her heel, and she wasn’t sure if it was relief or shock that she spotted on Will’s face at that point.

Grabbing her jacket from the coat hook, she marched to his front door ready to let herself out. He trailed behind in the hallway, his face ashen. Not that Cath could see it at that point, as her back was firmly set against him. Pausing for a mere second on the threshold, her parting words were, ‘You don’t get to tell people if they can love you or not.’ And she stomped out.

As she marched off down the path, filled with a heady mix of both love and fear, she began to wonder, what if he really meant it? What if they weren’t to be a couple anymore? What if her love, once again, went unanswered …

Chapter 30

Cath had enough on her mind with the Tilldale Afternoon Tea event rolling in, and oh my, now only four days away. Focusing on that would at least give her time to let the dust settle on their harsh words. Her heart felt bashed and bruised. But perhaps she and Will did need a little space, just to breathe, and to get perspective back on everything once more.