Page 34 of The Happiness Project

‘Oh, she’s the one who advised me what to bake and I’ve invited her here too,’ says Sarah. ‘Her and Ed are coming on Thursday to see if it’s big enough to host the club one night.’

I look around and know it is but think we’ll probably have to wait until summer so we’re not walking along the canal path in the dark. I say this and Sarah nods in agreement.

‘It’s lovely here in the summer,’ she adds. ‘You should come when the swans and their cygnets are out. Their graceful movement adds serenity to anywhere, I always think.’

‘That’s often said about me,’ says Patty, wolfing down her final crumb of cake.

‘I think the word you’re looking for is rarely — it’s rarely said about you,’ I say, getting a prod with the fork.

We all laugh and I look at Sarah, wondering whether she’ll become a close friend when Patty leaves for the cruise. There’s always a vacuum when my best friend vacates any space, and although I could never replace her, it would be nice to think I’ll have someone to go out with.

‘Morning, everyone,’ says a voice behind me.

‘Oh, David, hello,’ exclaims Sarah, getting up and giving the man a hug — so much for having someone to go out with. ‘Please join us.’

The man pulls up a chair and we make space for him. Sarah jumps up to grab him a cup and a slice of cake then sits back down.

‘This is David,’ she says as we all shake hands. ‘He’s my cousin and wine connoisseur extraordinaire — what he doesn’t know about wine isn’t worth knowing.’

He shakes his head and replies that he simply enjoys a glass but the real expert in food or drink is Sarah — he can’t hold a torch to her cakes.

‘Although I can make toast,’ he adds as a joke.

‘That’s impressive in my books. If you can make toast without burning it then you’re already streets ahead of me.’ I get a smile from everyone except Patty, who’s nodding in agreement.

David isn’t one of those men who dominates conversations; he says he’s heard about the book club and the lovely weekend we’ve had and asks us what we’re reading next. Then he politely joins in when Patty talks about the Granny-Okies and their forthcoming gig. He seems like a very nice guy. He looks slightly older than me, has dark hair with greying temples and hazel eyes beneath metal-framed glasses. He’s not amazingly handsome but, as Patty might say, is smart enough to take home to your mother. I wonder if anyone has ever said that about me.

After ten minutes or so, Sarah gets up and asks Patty if she wouldn’t mind tasting a new recipe she’s experimenting with. I offer to give an opinion too but am told that it’s okay — Patty will be enough. The two of them disappear into the kitchen and for a moment I’m offended that the woman I thought might be my new best friend is actually going off with my old best friend. I’m staring after them when a new pot of coffee is delivered by the assistant and David tops up my cup.

‘I’m sorry about Sarah,’ he says. ‘She’s always trying to set me up.’

The penny drops and my first reaction is relief that Patty isn’t running off with a woman who makes outstandingly good cakes. She once said she’d marry Mr Kipling, so that is a real concern.

‘Ah, I see,’ I reply. ‘My apologies too — I didn’t realise we were both being trapped in her lair.’

‘Although a cake shop isn’t a bad place to be held hostage,’ says David, raising his cup to me. ‘Here’s to the ransom not being paid until we’ve worked our way through the scones at the very least.’

We clink cups and I try to think of something to say as we’ve been thrust into this situation. There’s no need as David is an easy conversationalist.

‘Tell me about the Mercury Travel Club,’ he says. ‘I’ve heard you started it.’

I could talk for hours about my beloved club and tell him the philosophy of bringing local people and businesses together to have fun and build loyalty.

‘That sounds fabulous,’ he says when I’ve finished talking. ‘Though I’m not sure how you’d involve a small accountancy firm — which is where I worked until recently.’

‘Taking you to the Czech Republic,’ I say.

He laughs politely even though it’s an awfully weak joke.

‘So how do you fill your time now?’ I ask.

‘Well, I enjoy golf,’ he says, ‘and actually I can sort of cook. Even though it’s just me most of the time, I do pretty well and every now and then friends will drop round and I’ll rustle up a spag bol or something similar. It’s nice sharing food with people — I guess that’s where the love of wine comes from.’

‘Hospitality must be in the genes.’ I nod at the cake counter. ‘I’m afraid to say that I truly can’t cook for toffee and my ex-husband actually ran off with a chef.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ David looks genuinely concerned. ‘You’ll have to get your revenge on him by letting me cook dinner for you one night.’

Having lived through a month where getting a date with the man I thought was interested in me has seemed nigh on impossible, this invitation takes me completely by surprise and I simply sit there stunned.

---