Vivien's Heavenly Ice Cream Shop

by Abby Clements

  ‘You know what,’ Jon said, propping himself up on his elbow, ‘I feel more like curry tonight. Is that OK?’

  ‘Curry,’ Anna said, forcing herself to forget the meal she’d imagined. ‘Sure. Curry it is.’

  ‘Poppadom?’ Jon asked, snapping one of the crisp discs in half.

  She took it from him, and Jon spooned out a dollop of mango chutney onto his. They were the only customers in the restaurant, a quiet basement room around the corner from the flat, and their twenty-something waiter was being particularly attentive.

  ‘I’m absolutely starving,’ Jon said, with a smile.

  Anna scanned the menu, longing for a risotto juicy with sun-ripened tomatoes, or fresh tagliatelle flavoured with delectable truffle sauce … A chicken jalfrezi, she decided. That would do. She was with Jon, she reminded herself. That was what mattered. Back home, with the man she’d missed the whole time she was away.

  ‘Madam,’ the waiter said, eyes bright, ‘are you ready to order?’

  ‘The chicken jalfrezi and some garlic naan, please,’ Anna said. ‘And a Cobra beer.’

  ‘And you, sir?’

  ‘A chicken tikka for me, and plain naan,’ Jon said, putting the menu back down.

  He looked from the waiter back to Anna. ‘I feel better now that’s on the way.’

  ‘Have you been eating OK while I’ve been away?’ Anna asked.

  ‘Oh yes. I mean, not full meals like usual, but I’m still alive, as you can see. I suppose Imogen said something to you?’

  ‘No,’ Anna replied, puzzled. ‘About what?’

  He shook his head. ‘Oh, nothing. She just caught me unawares the other day. I had a day working from home, and she came by.’

  ‘Oh yes, she mentioned that,’ Anna said. ‘Something about you in your pants? Sorry, I should have mentioned she still had a spare set of keys.’

  ‘Would have helped,’ Jon said, looking slightly embarrassed.

  ‘That’s good, though, that you’re able to get some time working from home now.’ Anna said. ‘It’ll help when Alfie’s ill, that kind of thing.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jon said. ‘Should do. Alfie was asking after you, by the way. He’s still going on about that instant ice cream you two made together.’

  ‘Lovely. I missed him. Anything new to report?’

  ‘He’s still drawing a lot, or “mark-making”. That’s what they call it nowadays, apparently. Oh, and he can’t wait to see Hepburn again. Although I have to admit I was happy to let Imogen take him and give me a break from his whining.’

  The naan bread arrived and Anna tore off a corner and began to chew on it. ‘Maybe he was lonely,’ Anna said. It felt almost as if she’d never been away.

  ‘Anna,’ Imogen said, ‘we need to talk.’

  Anna had come down to Vivien’s early on Monday morning, excited about starting work again, only to find her sister standing behind the counter with an anxious expression on her face.

  ‘Some things happened when you were away.’

  ‘Some things?’ Anna said, taking a seat. Things – that could mean good things, couldn’t it? There was no reason why not. Apart from the look on Imogen’s face, that is. ‘What kind of things?’

  ‘To start with, I bought a van.’

  ‘Right,’ Anna replied. ‘But after paying for the course, we hardly had any money left. How did you get hold of a van?’ Irritation rose up in her – she and Imogen had made an agreement when they first started not to make any major purchases without consulting one another.

  ‘I used the rest of the money from Granny V,’ Imogen confessed.

  Anna felt her cheeks blaze red, her annoyance now impossible to conceal. ‘That was the money we put aside for ingredients, Imogen. You knew that.’

  ‘But it seemed like a great opportunity,’ Imogen said. ‘A real vintage ice cream van. Jess did the logo … and we painted it together, and …’

  ‘Why do I sense a “but” coming?’ Anna said.

  ‘It worked fine when I first drove it, and now it just needs a bit of work to get going again. Then we’ll be able to take your ice creams on the road … to festivals.’ Imogen’s words were coming out in a rush. ‘But then something happened, and I tried to drive it and it conked out and … ’

  ‘Oh God. So you not only bought a van, without talking about it with me first, but you’re telling me it’s a dud? Imogen, just tell me now, because I don’t think I can cope with you dragging it out any longer. What else happened when I was away?’

  Imogen talked her sister through the food-poisoning debacle, the article and damning online reviews and the feud with Finn. After that, Anna hoped that they might finally have covered everything.

  ‘And that’s it,’ Imogen said, biting her lip.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Anna said.

  ‘That is almost it,’ Imogen said. ‘There’s also some family stuff going on that you should know about.’

  ‘Family stuff?’

  ‘Dad’s still depressed and Aunt Françoise has been trying to bully him. She’s been badmouthing us to both him and Uncle Martin, so that they’ll put pressure on us to sell up. So she can set this place up as some chichi little restaurant,’ Imogen explained.

  ‘That’s awful,’ Anna said. ‘Poor Dad, stuck in the middle of all that. I’ll call Mum, see what we can do to smooth things over.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ Imogen said. ‘Talking to Françoise is like negotiating with a pitbull.’

  ‘We have to try, for Dad’s sake,’ Anna said. ‘Now tell me. Is that really, really it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Imogen said sheepishly. ‘Only I guess there are some consequences we’ll need to work around.’

  ‘Consequences.’

  Imogen wrinkled her nose.

  ‘We don’t have any more money left,’ Anna said, as reality gave her a sharp kick.

  ‘For basic ingredients – fine. But not the kind of specialist, seasonal stuff we’ll need for the new recipes you were telling me about.’

  ‘How could this happen?’ Anna said, her ice cream dreams slipping away with each word from her sister. ‘We had thousands of pounds, Imo, and now … nothing but a freezer full of ice lollies to show for it.’

  Jess and Anna were sitting in the shop after closing time, eating scoops of freshly made hazelnut and pretzel ice cream. ‘A lot of bad luck,’ Jess said. ‘But it’s just teething problems, isn’t it?’

  ‘I wish I could be as confident about it as you,’ Anna said. ‘It’s all such a mess. To be honest I can’t really take it all in. I’ve only been away just over a week.’

  ‘You’re annoyed with Imogen, aren’t you?’

  ‘I can’t help it,’ Anna said. ‘You know I love Imo, but seriously, how has she managed to lose control of every aspect of the business in only a few days?’

  ‘Tricky. Doing this stuff with family,’ Jess said.

  ‘I’m wondering if we just did it all too hastily, without really thinking through whether we could work together. It’s one thing getting on as sisters, but running a business together is different.’

  ‘You can’t go back on it now, though. You’ve made your bed.’

  ‘Have we? In a way we’ve only just got started, and what we have done would be better off forgotten. The reputation of the shop’s been damaged, and our budget is going to be really tight.’

  ‘What other option do you have? You and Imogen have invested so much in this place.’

  ‘My Aunt Françoise wants to buy it,’ Anna said. ‘I was completely against it at first. But now? I don’t know.’

  ‘You’ve just got back,’ Jess said. ‘Give it time for all of this to settle. For what it’s worth, Imogen really has been trying. And I think the van will be great once it’s going again. God, who’d have thought I’d end up painting an ice cream van on the south coast rather than sunning it up in a four-star beach resort?’’

  Anna smiled. ‘It was good of you to help out. The logo is perfect, and I agree about the van.
I think. Even if it’s not actually going to go anywhere for a while.’

  ‘I really enjoyed it, actually,’ Jess said. ‘Getting my hands dirty was a nice break from the office,’ she added, taking another spoonful of ice cream. ‘This stuff is delicious, by the way.’

  ‘Wow,’ Anna smiled. ‘From you, I know how high that praise is.’

  ‘Take my word for it,’ Jess said. ‘This is something worth investing in. A better bet than mine and Ed’s honeymoon, for starters. I’d better go. Promised Ed we’d have a quickie after work, before we get dinner on.’

  ‘Now there’s romance,’ Anna said with a smile.

  ‘I take it where I can get it,’ Jess laughed.

  They kissed each other goodbye, and Jess walked out of the shop, a spring in her step.

  An hour later, when she’d finished cleaning, Anna opened up her laptop to check her emails and see what else she’d missed. Among the spam and suppliers’ emails, there was a personal message waiting for her:

  To: Anna

  From: Matteo

  Hi, Anna,

  How are you?

  Italy is very quiet without you, but I’ve been filling my days in my favourite way – with plenty of ice cream. I tried out a prosciutto and parmesan one this week – delicious.

  The parmesan ice cream is nothing new, it’s actually based on a recipe over 150 years old, so I can’t take the credit for that, but the prosciutto addition gave it something really special. I have started working in a friend’s shop and we had queues out into the square yesterday!

  Anyway, tell me, what flavours have you been trying out – something like Wimbledon, all those strawberries and cream?

  Your friend,

  Matteo x

  Anna smiled, in spite of her worries. In a moment, Matteo had reminded her what the shop was all about – not just balancing the books, but sharing the true pleasure of ice cream.

  She typed back a reply.

  From: Anna

  To: Matteo

  Hi, there,

  Actually it’s funny you should say that, today I tried something different. A hazelnut ice cream with chunks of chocolate and pieces of pretzel – covered in a caramel sauce. The saltiness and sweetness worked deliciously together. My friend Jess gave it the thumbs up (and she’s a tough customer!)

  One idea I’d like to try – don’t laugh (I didn’t laugh at your prosciutto, and, man, that sounds gross). Have you heard of Earl Grey tea? I’m planning to make a sorbet out of the tea, and see how that works. I’ll let you know.

  I’m not sure if you can get tea bags out there in Italy, so I’m attaching the recipe for the hazelnut and pretzel ice cream for now. Maybe you could try it out yourself?

  Anna

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The atmosphere in Tom and Jan’s living room was bordering on toxic. Anna and Imogen were sitting on one sofa, with Françoise and Martin directly opposite, their dad sitting awkwardly on the armchair and Jan hovering over them with a teapot.

  ‘Well, thanks everybody for coming,’ Jan said. ‘It seems like there may have been a few misunderstandings lately and I thought we should try and sort them out, sooner rather than later.’ When everyone had shaken their heads no to more tea, she perched on the edge of Tom’s armchair. He seemed to be gazing beyond the walls of the house into a place none of them had access to. Imogen wondered if he was even able to take in what they were saying.

  ‘By misunderstandings, Mum,’ Imogen said, the argument the other day still fresh, ‘you mean that Françoise has been trying to bully Dad.’

  ‘I have been doing no such thing,’ Françoise said, putting her cup and saucer down on the side indignantly. ‘I have merely been trying to protect your family’s interests, Imogen. And perhaps if you’d made those a priority in the first place, I wouldn’t have needed to say anything.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Anna said politely, ‘but that’s not really fair, Aunt Françoise. Imogen and I have been trying really hard to make the shop work. All new businesses have their teething problems.’

  ‘It does seem as if you’ve had more than your fair share,’ Françoise said. ‘And Martin certainly hasn’t enjoyed hearing about all the bad publicity, damaging your grandmother’s reputation and legacy. Have you, Martin?’

  ‘It hasn’t been quite like that,’ Martin said awkwardly. ‘I mean I have to admit I was unhappy when Françoise showed me the newspaper article. In all the years Mum worked they didn’t have any problems with food safety and it seemed a shame to have people think badly of the place.’

  ‘And this is what convinced Martin that the shop would be better off in our hands,’ Françoise said.

  ‘Come on,’ Martin said to his wife, in hushed tones. ‘That’s not exactly what I said.’

  Imogen was fuming. Anna put a hand gently on her sister’s arm to hold her back from letting loose and kept her own voice steady as she spoke. ‘We’re both sorry about what happened. It was an accident, and one we’ve learned from. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘No, it won’t,’ Françoise said, determination in her voice.

  ‘Granny V left the shop to us,’ Imogen said, feeling her cheeks colour, ‘and she trusted us to run it. You can’t buy something that we don’t want to sell.’

  ‘I think this is another misunderstanding,’ Françoise said, her expression all innocence. ‘You see, I know that – and I’m not trying to force you to do anything. But Martin and Tom have a right to know what you’re doing to their mother’s business. Then it’s their decision if they want to talk to you about it.’

  ‘You know what, Françoise,’ Tom said, sitting forward, startling Imogen with the unexpectedness of his voice, ‘I think it’s about time I spoke up here.’

  Françoise crossed her stocking-clad legs defensively.

  ‘Because I don’t think you do have Martin and my best interests at heart. Not really. If you did, you wouldn’t have come here insisting that we sell Mum’s house to people who plan to flatten it before we’ve even had a chance to scatter her ashes.’

  ‘Oh, Tom,’ Françoise pouted, ‘I’m sorry you’re upset, but someone needed to be practical. We’ll have the inheritance tax to pay and—’

  ‘And now,’ he said, raising his voice to cut her off but keeping calm and controlled, ‘you seem intent on making me and my brother – and I’m sorry about this, Martin, but I’ve gone long enough without saying what I think – doubt the abilities of Imogen and Anna.’

  Françoise fell silent, and Martin glanced around awkwardly, his eyes refusing to settle on any one point.

  Jan placed her hand on her husband’s arm, and gave him an almost imperceptible nod, encouraging him to go on.

  ‘What you don’t seem to realise,’ he continued, ‘is that I – that we –’ he moved his hand to take hold of Jan’s – ‘will always trust our daughters to do the right thing.’

  Imogen looked over at him. He looked bolder and stronger than he had in weeks. Go Dad, she thought to herself.

  ‘No matter what mistakes they make, and no matter how their ideas might differ from ours. They are determined and capable, and we couldn’t be more proud of the women they’ve grown up to be. Their grandmother had faith in them, and I get the feeling that you, Martin, do too.’

  Martin shuffled awkwardly. ‘Of course I do. Listen, I don’t want a fuss,’ he said. ‘It was just intended as a point for discussion, really … ’

  ‘If you think for just one moment, Françoise, that you are going to persuade me to turn on my own daughters,’ Tom continued, ‘then I have to say I don’t feel you’re welcome in this house any more.’

  Anna and Imogen got back into Anna’s car in the late afternoon. They travelled in silence until they got onto the A-Road, both still stunned by the events of the day. Eventually Imogen spoke up. ‘Well, I don’t think any of us were expecting that.’

  ‘No,’ Anna said. ‘He really put her in her place, didn’t he?’

  ‘He was brilliant. Do you think this
means that the old Dad is back?’

  ‘Hopefully. It certainly looked like it today. But we shouldn’t expect too much. These things take time.’

  ‘Well, she was totally lost for words. When I talked to her the other day, my anger only made her more resolute. But when Dad spoke up just now she totally crumbled.’

  ‘With any luck, this is the last we’ll hear of it. Françoise has to accept that Granny left the business to us, and leave us to it.’

  ‘And there’s no part of you that’s sorry?’ Imogen said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that while we both know Françoise is a nightmare, she was also a potential buyer. I’m not deluded, Anna. I know how annoyed and disappointed you’ve been since you got back and heard about everything that’s happened. I can’t blame you, and I would understand if you didn’t want us to go on working together. Or if you wanted to sell up altogether, come to that.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Imo,’ Anna said. She stopped at traffic lights, her hands resting on the wheel, and turned to face her sister. ‘You’re right. I did doubt you. Us.’

  Imogen swallowed her pride and tried not to feel hurt. Anna was only confirming what she’d already suspected, after all. ‘I had such high hopes when I was out in Italy, for what the ice cream shop could be, what we could make it,’ Anna went on. ‘I came back feeling really inspired. So to be confronted with all this … all this reality, nothing but problems we need to fix, that was difficult. It doesn’t mean I love you any less – you’re still the best sister I could ever wish for.’

  ‘I understand,’ Imogen said. ‘And thanks for still loving me.’ She smiled. ‘I don’t know why I thought I could do it on my own. It was really hard. Far harder than I’d ever imagined. And the truth is that while I’m committed now, I still miss the way my life used to be. It was all so simple.’