Jules tilted her head. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”
“You’re kind, but really, I’m all set.” Catherine’s chest clenched. She needed to compose herself, but in the moment, Penny’s words about bravery bounced through her mind, so she took a leap. “If the invitation’s still open, I could come over for dinner next week. How about Friday?”
Jules grinned. “It’s a date.”
Catherine lingered in her doorway watching as Jules climbed the stairs, but just before she was out of sight, she leaned over the banister.
“Oh, and just to put the record straight… I’m not.”
Catherine angled her head. “You’re not what?”
“Straight.” Jules winked and disappeared.
In the kitchen, Catherine was still smiling like an idiot as she unpacked her ‘essentials’ and popped the macaroni cheese in the oven. After staring at it for a long moment, she opened the gift bag from Jules and pulled out acylindrical tube wrapped in tissue paper. Her eyebrows shot up as she peeled back the paper to reveal an eighteen-year-old bottle of Scotch.
The woman’s timing was terrible, but this was the perfect gift. It was almost like Jules knew her, and perhaps she did.Bridie must have been more in touch with her daughter than she’d let on because otherwise how could Jules have known? Whisky isn’t for everyone. But then again, she’s Scottish — it’s in their blood.
Catherine poured herself a measure of the less fancy Scotch she’d just bought. The eighteen-year-old deserved an occasion. Perhaps she’d crack it open with Jules.
Her day had started brilliantly, gone terribly downhill, and now here she was standing in her kitchen, elated because she had a date.A date!
Catherine fellasleep with a silly grin plastered across her lips, but woke in the thick of night with cold sweat prickling her skin. She threw off the duvet and gulped down some water, then lay awake blinking in the swirling blackness of her bedroom, willing sleep to return but doing nothing to slow her runaway thoughts.
The relentless self-doubt that plagued her seemed to be amplified in the small hours; her chaotic mind swung from the mundane to the catastrophic in a matter of seconds. Just because she was a mental health professional, people assumed her own mental state was in tip-top condition. If they could actually see the jumble ofthoughts that tumbled around inside her head on a daily basis, she was sure she’d be struck off.
Date panic set in… what to wear, what to bring, what to talk about. There were so many things to consider. Should she buy new underwear? Should she shave her armpits? Her legs? Her nether regions? The thought of being unprepared for anything, even the most basic of intimate encounters, sent a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over her.
She imagined Jules, the object of her current, slightly obsessive affections, and a knot of apprehension tightened in her stomach. What if they had nothing in common? What if they had too much in common? What if it all went horribly wrong and then they were stuck living in this proximity? Jules would move on and date other women. Younger, more attractive women, who, with effortless elegance, would sport lacy lingerie like the ones she’d seen draped over the airer in Jules’s bedroom. Then she’d have to lie here listening to them having noisy sex right above her bed. She’d be even lonelier than before, and she’d have to move out and leave her lovely home…
What had she been thinking?A dinner date with Jules is a truly terrible idea.
The sane voice of Penny crept in with words she hadn’t yet said, but no doubt would when Catherine put all this to her.But what if it all works out?
She took a slow, calming breath, and then another and another until sleep found her again and she woke to the chiming of her alarm clock.
With a swift lap around the park, Catherine shook thelethargy from her legs before returning home to refuel with muesli and a refreshing shower.
While waiting in line for coffee at Snoots — a Monday treat — she checked her schedule. Another jam-packed day where Stephanie had left barely any time between sessions. Catherine sighed, a familiar frustration bubbling up. She really must speak to the agency about sending a different assistant. And she must catch up with Jeremy and ask about Francesca.
Coffee in hand and scrolling her phone, she almost bumped into the person heading into the café.
“Sorry,” she mumbled with a quick glance up and did a double-take. “Oh, hi,” Catherine said with a breathy laugh as her pulse peaked. “Hi.”
Jules stood in front of her, smiling. Her red curls were swept up into a messy bun, and her makeup-free face was glowing in the fresh morning air.
“I’m not stalking you, honest! Will sent me out for pastries, and I thought I should oblige, seeing as I had him lugging boxes until the wee hours.”
“I guess I better get used to seeing you around, and this really is the best place for pastries.”
“Oh, and I meant to ask if you’ve any allergies or anything.”
Catherine blinked. “Sorry?”
“For Friday, I’m cooking you dinner… that’s if you…” Jules reached up and touched the back of her neck. The movement didn’t escape Catherine. It was hard to imagine, but was Jules anxious about their date too?
“Of course. Friday. I’m looking forward to it. No allergies, but I’m vegetarian.”
“Great, you’re easy.” Jules’s eyes bulged. “I mean,that’seasy, you’re a veggie. Vegetarian. Yes. I can do you.” Her eyes grew wider still. “That, I mean, I can cook that.” Colour crept up her neck and into her cheeks. The bashful display went a long way to settling Catherine’s nerves. She smiled and touched Jules’s arm.We’re in this together.
