Vivien's Heavenly Ice Cream Shop

by Abby Clements

  ‘We did OK, didn’t we?’ Jess said, her cheeks already a little rosier for the early July sun.

  ‘Even better than I expected,’ Anna said.

  ‘I’d say Vivien’s is well and truly back in the game!’ Jess laughed.

  Jess gave her a hug and Anna relaxed into her friend’s arms. What Anna needed now, more than anything, was to forget about what was happening with Jon. Thankfully the shop was the perfect diversion – and even if they weren’t making any money yet, she’d seen today that her and Imogen’s instinct had been right – there was definitely a local market for gourmet ice cream. The people who’d tried their samples had loved the home-grown, fresh and seasonal tastes in Vivien’s ices.

  ‘So, why is it, Anna … ’ Jess said, her face suddenly serious, popping the bubble Anna had felt safe in. ‘ … Look, I don’t want to step out of line here … but I thought today went amazingly – so why don’t you look happier ?’

  ‘Oh, I’m fine,’ Anna said, brushing away Jess’s concern. ‘It’s been a hectic couple of weeks, that’s all, sorting out everything that went wrong.’

  ‘Right,’ Jess said, waiting for her to say more.

  ‘Jess, it’s fine, honestly.’ Anna assured her. ‘I mean Jon and I have had our ups and downs lately, but what couple doesn’t?’

  ‘As long as you’re OK,’ Jess said. ‘Remember I’m always here for you, if you want to talk.’

  ‘I appreciate that. But really, there’s nothing to say.’

  On the specials board – Pear and Ginger Sorbet.

  The following Friday, Jess popped into the shop early before work, as Anna was getting ready to open.

  ‘Jess,’ Anna said, stirring her mug of tea, ‘I’ve had an idea. After we gave out those freebies last week, business has really lifted. We’ve had customers flooding in, in fact.’

  Jess got up and gave a bow. ‘There’s no need to thank me,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘All the same, I’m very grateful,’ Anna said. ‘Your loudspeaker voice definitely helped draw attention to us. It’s got me thinking … this stuff really makes a difference, doesn’t it? Maybe we should hold a local event.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ Jess said, curious. ‘Like an in-shop promotion, that kind of thing?’

  ‘Something community-based. A lot of people never stray this far down the seafront unless they’re coming for a reason – like they’ve heard about Finn’s surf school. But once they do make it down here, they tend to come back. The other Arches shop owners have been great so far – Evie and Finn, and the couple who own the newsagents. Maybe if we did something together, a party on the bandstand perhaps?’

  ‘Love it,’ Jess said, her face lighting up. ‘I could ask Dan’s band to come along – you know, the band from our wedding? They do the odd free gig for friends, local stuff – as long as they get to flog a few CDs, they’re happy. And there’s the Brighton Community Brass Band – you could start up with them. They’re a big hit with the oldies and I bet they’d perform at the opening of an envelope.’

  ‘Perfect,’ Anna said, jotting the ideas down in her notebook.

  ‘We could have a barbecue on the beach too,’ Anna said. ‘I reckon Finn would be up for organising that, and that would ensure plenty of his surfing crowd came along. Hopefully Evie could make us some bunting, or make some cakes to sell – she’s pretty good like that. It would be a day for the community to come together and enjoy the sunshine, making a feature of this part of the seafront.’

  ‘What are you guys plotting?’ Imogen said, taking off her jacket and hanging it up.

  ‘A party,’ Jess said. ‘Although I shouldn’t really be plotting it at all,’ she added, checking her watch, ‘as I’m late for work. Still in holiday mode. See you guys later.’

  ‘“Summertime Under the Arches”,’ Anna said, trying out the phrase as Jess rushed out of the door. ‘An event where all the local businesses chip in and get involved.’

  ‘Nice,’ Imogen said approvingly. ‘Why don’t we strike while the iron’s hot – have it the weekend after next? I could call Finn about it. He’s away in Cornwall on a surf camp for a couple of weeks, but I could ring him, see if he has any other ideas.’

  ‘Really?’ Anna asked. ‘So, what, are you guys friends now?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ Imogen said. ‘But I suppose I may have read him slightly wrong. I bumped into him in Glastonbury and he actually seemed kind of OK.’

  ‘Wonders will never cease,’ Anna said, smiling.

  ‘No point holding grudges,’ Imogen said. ‘Summer’s here, so we may as well make the most of it.’

  Grabbing a teaspoon, she took a scoop of Anna’s freshly made pear-and-ginger sorbet. ‘Now this isn’t bad at all.’

  At home that evening, Anna was sitting in Alfie’s room with him, cross-legged on the floor. He was dressed in a yellow T-shirt with a giraffe on it that she’d bought him the first time he stayed over, piling coloured building bricks on top of one another.

  ‘Alfie buildin’ a house,’ he said triumphantly, placing a green brick on top of the others. His cheeks glowed with a sense of achievement. ‘Building a house for Anna.’ Hepburn shuffled in through the door and waddled his way over to Alfie, narrowly dodging the brick tower, and nuzzling his head against Alfie’s side. Alfie collapsed in giggles. ‘Hep-urn,’ he said, breathless with laughter. ‘Tickling me!’ Anna pulled Hepburn away gently and brought him onto her lap, from where he proceeded to lick her face enthusiastically.

  ‘House for Anna and Hep-urn!’ Alfie laughed, adding one more brick to the pile.

  Anna smiled. Spending time with Alfie brought her right into the present like nothing else could. When she was reading him a bedtime story, or collecting stones with him on the beach, everyday stresses lessened or lifted altogether. She couldn’t help but get caught up in his bright and uncluttered way of seeing the world, this capacity for make-believe.

  Jon peeked around the door. ‘Everything all right in here?’ he said with a smile. ‘Because it sounds crazy. Dinner’s almost ready.’

  ‘We’re fine,’ Anna said, looking up at him. She saw the warmth in his expression that she’d fallen for on that very first night they spent together.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘It’ll be about five minutes. Nothing for us yet, I’m afraid, Anna – unless you’re keen on some chicken nuggets?’

  ‘I think I’ll wait for ours,’ Anna said.

  Jon closed the door and Anna turned back towards Alfie. With one swift move, Hepburn leapt off her and darted out, knocking the bricks in every direction.

  ‘Oh NO,’ Alfie said, his giggles bubbling up.

  ‘It’s OK, sweetheart,’ Anna said. ‘It just means we get to start the game all over again.’

  She swept the bricks up so that they were all within reach of his tubby arms.

  ‘Now, what shall we build next?’ Anna said, putting a finger to her lips as if she was thinking up a plan.

  ‘A-Nother house,’ Alfie said.

  ‘A different one?’

  ‘Yes,’ Alfie said, putting down a yellow slab as a base. ‘This house is where Mummy and Daddy live.’

  The words hit Anna like a jolt.

  Maybe it wasn’t Alfie who was playing ‘Let’s pretend’. It was her.

  Once Alfie was in bed, Jon got his and Anna’s dinner ready, plates of steaming spaghetti Bolognese.

  ‘So, how did it go today?’ Anna said. ‘You had a meeting, right?’

  ‘Oh … yeah,’ Jon said, dishing up. ‘Nice guys, and it sounds like an interesting agency. Not sure it will lead to anything though.’

  ‘OK. Well, still worth a shot.’

  Jon shrugged. ‘Hopefully. By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you that Alfie’s going to be staying a bit longer than usual next week.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Anna said. ‘You know I love having him around.’

  ‘Mia’s bringing him around on Thursday. She has some fundraising event or other to run that evening.’


  ‘OK,’ Anna said, forcing herself not to react to Mia’s name. The thought of seeing her again – now – after all that had happened, made Anna feel sick.

  ‘You don’t have a problem with that, do you?’ Jon said. ‘I mean I could meet her somewhere else, if that’s easier.’

  It was all too soon.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Anna said. ‘I mean –’ something inside her gave, a thread snapped – ‘I’d rather never see Mia again, if I’m honest – but I can be adult about this, if she can.’

  ‘Come on, Anna,’ Jon said, ‘there’s no need to be like that.’

  ‘Isn’t there?’ she said, glaring at him. She felt dizzy all of a sudden and needed some space. ‘I’m going to have a bath.’

  As she left the kitchen, her head was spinning. She sat down on the bench in the hallway, next to a pile of post she’d dumped there during the week without sorting through it.

  She saw now that a colourful postcard was nestled in among the bills and she pulled it out. A bright blue sky shone out behind terracotta-toned buildings and a sparkling river. There in the centre of the photo was a bridge she instantly recognised: the Ponte Vecchio in Florence.

  She flipped the postcard over.

  Anna,

  she read in elegant black handwriting

  Tell me you haven’t forgotten about Florence, and about the power of ice cream, just yet.

  She smiled in spite of herself, as she read the words in Matteo’s warm, Italian-accented voice.

  Hugs,

  Matteo

  She tucked the card away inside a book and put it on the shelf, her own slight feelings of guilt about her friendship with Matteo mingling with the anger she felt towards Jon. One point was clear – the last thing she needed right now was daydreams, sunshine memories that had nothing to do with her real life.

  Once in the bathroom, Anna locked the door behind her. It was the first time she’d pulled the lock across – normally she liked to leave the door open a crack so she could talk to Jon through it while he pottered about. But things felt different now.

  She sat down on the wicker chair by the bath, letting the water run hot, and pouring a citrus bubble bath under the tap.

  She waited for the bath to fill, and absent-mindedly picked up the embroidered cushion from the chair, running her fingers over the stitching. It was one of the few things she’d chosen to take from her grandmother’s house. She could remember Vivien making it, sewing and half-watching Downton Abbey. For a moment she felt as if her grandmother was in the room with her.

  When Vivien was living around the corner, even when Anna was in her crummy rented flat, she had always felt at home in Brighton. And yet now, in her own home, with the man she was supposed to be in love with in the next room, she had never felt more alone.

  This doesn’t feel right, Anna thought, as she watched water fill the bath. She hugged the cushion into her chest, and the words she said out loud were hushed by the running water. ‘But I can’t just give up, Granny V. Can I?’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  On the specials board –ß Blueberry Sorbet

  It took her a little while to admit it to herself, but from the moment Imogen had fallen asleep chatting to Finn in that fairy-lit wigwam she’d started to feel a glimmer – just a glimmer – of attraction to him.

  It was Sunday morning, and she and Anna were getting things ready for the bandstand event, but she was conscious of the fact that Finn was just a few metres away. She’d be seeing him later for the first time since they’d been in Glastonbury together, a fortnight ago. She’d spent longer than usual in front of the mirror that morning, adjusting her hair, threading in a small plait, and putting on an old-gold necklace with her red tank top and jeans, to dress them up a bit.

  ‘Right, here’s the bunting,’ Evie announced, as she breezed into the ice cream shop. Brightly coloured fabric triangles were wrapped around her neck, and she had the other lengths of bunting pulled tight so as not to tangle them, with her arms spread wide. ‘Up all night I was with this, you know,’ she said, a smile on her face. ‘I hope you ladies appreciate it.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Anna said, dashing over, and cooing over the mixture of lace and colourful fabrics that Evie had picked out and sewn together with strings of blue ribbon.

  ‘Why, thank you,’ Evie said, giving them a bow.

  ‘Are we putting that up on the bandstand?’ Imogen asked, taking a length into her hand and running her fingers over the fabric.

  ‘There’s one long one for the bandstand,’ Evie said, pointing to it, ‘and another for your van. You’re selling out of the van today, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Imogen said. After the shaky beginning, the van was really beginning to come into its own as part of the business. And today it would mean they’d be able to sell ice cream from right in the middle of the party.

  ‘You know what?’ Evie said. ‘It’s a shame your grandmother’s not going to be here. Nothing Vivien liked more than bringing people together.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Imogen said. ‘She would have loved this.’

  ‘Did I ever tell you about the Bring and Buy sale we hosted out here on the front?’ Evie said. Imogen and Anna shook their heads. ‘It was when they were threatening to close the children’s ward at the hospital. We had stalls lined up full of jumble that your grandmother sorted through and priced up ready to sell on. We had hordes of people down here – kids and their parents, local actors and politicians, the newspapers. Vivien had a way of getting word around.’

  ‘Did you make much money?’ Imogen asked.

  ‘About five hundred pounds, I think,’ Evie said. ‘Can’t quite remember now. But the real outcome was that the local press coverage drew attention to the campaign. This was before you had social networking and all that, of course, and it wasn’t easy getting people to take notice. The next week over a thousand people marched in protest, along the front here, and the government was forced to change their plans.’

  ‘What a great story,’ Anna said. ‘Whatever Granny V was doing, she made it fun to be part of. I miss that.’

  ‘I guess it falls to us now,’ Imogen said. ‘We should make today a great event in her honour.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ Evie said.

  Anna checked her watch, then glanced back at Imogen and Evie, excitement and nerves dancing in her brown eyes. ‘It’s nearly midday,’ she said. ‘We start in an hour. Shall we go out and get things set up before the rabble arrive?’

  ‘Why don’t we start over there?’ Imogen said as they stepped out onto the seafront, pointing towards the bandstand. ‘String the bunting up. Hang on, I’ll just grab a ladder.’

  She returned a moment later, and Evie propped the ladder up against the wrought-iron.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Imogen said, taking hold of the end of the bunting and climbing the first couple of rungs.

  ‘You most certainly will not,’ Evie said. ‘I’ve made this, and I’ll put it up myself – won’t have you taking all the glory.’ She laughed good-naturedly. ‘I’m as fit now as I ever was. My old bones haven’t given up yet.’

  ‘What’s going on here?’ Imogen heard his voice before she saw him. Deep, sure and steady. A tingle ran from the back of her neck right down her arms. ‘Looks like you’re really putting Evie to work.’ Imogen turned to see Finn’s smiling face.

  Evie gave him a glare from her position balanced precariously at the top of the ladder, her hands overflowing with bunting. ‘I’ve had this argument once already,’ she said.

  ‘She insisted,’ Imogen said.

  ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Finn said.

  Imogen’s eyes met his. Warm and smiling. She melted a bit inside, but did her best to hide it.

  Evie continued to tie the string of bright triangles to the metal curves of the bandstand as Imogen held the base of the ladder steady. The sea breeze sent the flags fluttering.

  Inside the bandstand, the community brass band tuned up in the golden
glow of the July sunshine, and the sound of the trumpet carried on the wind.

  ‘A summer of music,’ Finn said quietly to Imogen. In an instant the day that they’d spent together at Glastonbury flooded back. The lazy morning out by the jazz stage, their wander together through the circus field – getting their fortunes read in the tarot tent, then making it back to the main stage to see the final day’s headline act. Being with him, talking, laughing, had felt so easy. ‘Seems like only a minute ago we were at the festival, doesn’t it?’

  Imogen looked at Finn, her hair whipping across her face in salty strands.

  ‘Finn,’ came a masculine yell from the surf shop.

  ‘Andy. I think that’s my cue,’ he said. He touched Imogen’s shoulder gently. ‘But I’ll catch you later, I hope.’

  She nodded, and then he was gone.

  Evie, looking down from the top of her ladder, raised an eyebrow and smiled. ‘Is there something I’ve missed?’

  By mid-afternoon the seafront party was in full swing. Throngs of revellers surrounded the bandstand as Jess’s wedding band played their way through Motown classics. The opening chords of ‘Heard it Through the Grapevine’ rang out and couples swayed along to the beat. At the front of the crowd a small space cleared, and young children were soon bopping along, twirling each other round. At the back Imogen joined the others in belting out the lyrics with joyous, summery abandon.

  Imogen was on her break from the van, and she could see Anna working hard dishing out the ices. Last night they’d made an enormous vat of chocolate-and-macadamia ice cream, which was to die for, and also a choice of summery sorbets – blueberry and a fresh, zingy and gloriously simple lemon and mint.

  One of their customers strolled past Imogen, scooping a chunk of chocolate out of the tub she was carrying. ‘This stuff is amazing, Paul. We really must get down to this part of the seafront more often. And did you see the new range they had out there – “Hepburn’s Glorious Ice Cream for Hounds”? Dog ice cream! Brilliant.’

  Imogen felt a glow inside on hearing the words. From where she was standing, today was looking very much like a success.