Summer Sundaes: Escape to the seaside with the perfect summer read! (The Boardwalk by the Sea Book 1)

by Georgina Troy

  “Fine,” he said, eventually giving in and winking at Sacha. “I don’t know why your mother thinks I’d be anything other than a perfect gentleman,” he whispered. “Right, I know you’re funny when it comes to eating meat.”

  “I’m a vegetarian, Dad,” she said shaking her head. She had been since she was thirteen and could just about get away with it during family meals. She didn’t mind handling meat at the café but just didn’t enjoy eating it. Sacha couldn’t understand why her father still found it strange, when she hadn’t eaten meat for sixteen years.

  “Yes, whatever,” he pointed to a tray over on a separate small table. “Your mother made me rush out and buy you some strange soya things. I’ll cook them after the meat is ready.”

  She peered over at the kebabs and liked the look of the sweet red peppers with carrots and onions, although some were speared together with chunks of chicken fillet and others with beef.

  “You needn’t have bothered though, Mum always does far too much salad and I can see that she’s also made her potato salad.”

  The food served, everyone sat down at the table. Sacha noticed Jack positioning himself as far away from Alessandro as possible. Her mother pushed a small pot of Jersey Black Butter towards Alessandro.

  “Try that,” she said explaining what it was. “It’s made from cider, apples, a little lemon and spices, and it’s delicious. Have some with your meat or the cheeses at the end of the meal.”

  He thanked her, but Sacha wasn’t sure if he was convinced by the dark mixture in the bowl in front of him. She waited, knowing her father would have to find a way to bring up the gelateria. As expected, he waited for her mother to go in the house along with Jack, who carried the plates for her. Once she was out of earshot, he addressed Alessandro.

  “Right, son,” he said. “I’m not happy, not happy at all about this ice cream parlour of yours. I’ve had a business down that boardwalk for nigh on fifty years now and don’t need you muscling your way in and buggering things up for my girl here.”

  Here, goes, thought Sacha suppressing a groan. “Dad,” she said, quickly glancing at the house to check her mother wasn’t on her way back to join them. “It’s not Alessandro’s business, it’s his father’s. He wanted to set up a gelateria in Jersey.’

  “Why?”

  “Yes, why?” Jack said returning from inside the house.

  “Why not?” she said, unhelpfully, irritated with her brother for getting involved. “There’s no reason why a little competition won’t be a good thing, if it’s done the right way.” Satisfied with her quick thinking, she settled back in her chair.

  “Which is?” her father asked, putting a dampener on her thoughts.

  Alessandro clasped his hands together. “Mr Collins, I understand your feelings about what I’m doing, and I would feel the same way. My father worked over here many years ago and it has been his dream to come back and set up his own business. Until now, family ties and other restrictions have meant that was impossible.”

  Her father took a mouthful of his drink and contemplated Alessandro’s words. “Then surely he should just forget about it.”

  “Or you could try to change his mind,” Jack said, glaring at Alessandro.

  Alessandro shrugged one shoulder. “What can I say? I will be focusing on an Italian way of making and serving my gelatos. Sacha will continue running her wonderful café. I believe the businesses can work side by side.”

  “I’m sure I can make it work without seeing a reduction in takings,” she assured her father, hoping he wouldn’t notice her uncertainty. “I’m working on a marketing plan for the café. I also intend making the most of the differences between Alessandro’s gelateria and Summer Sundaes.”

  “How do you plan on doing that?” her father asked, watching her intently.

  She cleared her throat. “By focusing more on the nostalgia aspect of Summer Sundaes Café,” she answered, liking the idea and running with it. “It’s a place where customers often remember seaside visits they took as children. I know because I’ve been told so, many times. Whereas the gelateria is a state-of-the-art place where customers go to buy gelatos, but usually take them away. A quick experience.”

  “You could be right,” her father said proudly. After a moment’s contemplation, he added, “I’m sure you can do it. Setbacks have never stopped you before now.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” she said, relieved at his response.

  Her father opened his mouth to say something, but her mother’s voice, announcing the arrival of her famous summer pudding, put an end to any argument he was about to make.

  “That looks delicious,” Sacha said, standing up to help take the dessert from her and place it on the table. “Now,” she said to Alessandro. “This is a true British pudding and one I doubt you’ll have tasted at home. You have to try some.”

  “It looks very nice,” he said, looking as if he was trying to work out exactly what it was.

  “Fresh Jersey cream to go with it, of course,” her mother added, as Jack made space on the table for her to put down a pile of plates and large crystal jug of cream.

  He watched silently as their mother served Alessandro and placed the bowl in front of him, pushing the jug towards him.

  “It’s made with slices of white bread,” Sacha said, before Alessandro took a mouthful, so that he’d have an idea of what he was about to eat. “It’s that dark purply colour because inside are redcurrants, blackcurrants and raspberries. All from our garden, aren’t they, Mum?”

  “Yes, all grown here. There’s golden caster sugar too, to sweeten it up. I hope you like it.”

  Sacha felt sorry for the poor man as everyone watched silently, first as he poured on the cream, then while he dipped his spoon into the pudding and raised it to his mouth. She caught his eye and smiled as he chewed and swallowed.

  “Well?” her mum asked. “What do you think?”

  He closed his eyes briefly. “Very good. I like this, a lot.”

  Sacha believed him, relieved. Her mother looked delighted.

  The shrillness of the front gate buzzer cut through their conversation. Her father pressed the remote to speak.

  “It’s me,” Aunt Rosie’s voice came through the speakers. “Let me in, I’ve got some fabulous news.”

  Everyone looked up expectantly as her little red sports car roared in through the gates.

  “It’s your aunt, from Rome?” Alessandro asked.

  “The very same,” Sacha laughed. “I wonder what she’s been doing now.” She leaned in closer to him and lowered her voice. “She’s always up to something and never ceases to entertain us, and irritate my father.”

  “Sweeties,” she said, tottering around the side pathway of the house in her achingly high heels. She untied a coloured silk headscarf from under her chin and whipped it off, waving it at everyone in excitement.

  Her father frowned. “I’ll get more drinks,” he said, giving Sacha’s aunt a curt nod.

  “He loves her really,” Sacha added to Alessandro before going up to her aunt and giving her a kiss on each cheek.

  Aunt Rosie took Sacha’s face in both hands and looked up to her. “Precious girl, you’re looking rather sun-kissed, which is what I like to see.” She looked past her and widened her eyes, glancing at Sacha and smiling. “Well, if it isn’t the very gorgeous Alessandro.” She walked over to him and gave him a kiss on each cheek. “What a glorious surprise to find you here.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “It is good to see you, also.”

  Sacha’s mum patted the vacant seat next to her. “Come and sit,” she said, pulling over an unused glass and pouring a little rosé into it. “Now, what is this exciting news?”

  “I’ve heard about your lovely fête idea,” she said, tilting her head in Sacha’s direction. “My neighbour was given one of your leaflets by,” she hesitated, “oh, I forget now. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that earlier today I was out to lunch with a few friends and bumped into one of my childhoo
d sweethearts.”

  “This should be interesting,” Sacha’s father said, returning to the table and taking his seat.

  Rosie glowered at him. “If I’m boring you, do tell me and I’ll shut up.”

  “No,” shouted Sacha, desperate to hear more. She gave her dad a pleading look and then smiled at her aunt. “Go on, we’re listening.”

  “As I was saying, I was enjoying lunch with a few girlfriends, when George Newton arrived and came over to have a chat.”

  Sacha thought she must have heard wrong. “George Newton, the actor, from The Rising Moon? He’s your ex-boyfriend?”

  “Yes,” her aunt said, confused. “Why, is there another George Newton I’ve forgotten about?”

  Sacha looked at her mother. “Mum, did you know about this?”

  Her mother refilled her glass. “What, that Rosie was at lunch with her friends today, or that she used to date George?”

  Sacha glared at her mother. “I think you know what I mean. Why did I not know about this before now?”

  Her aunt shook her head and took a sip of her wine. “Probably because no one thought you’d be interested, maybe?”

  Sacha took a deep breath. Her mother and aunt could be infuriating sometimes. They’d seemed to enjoy dropping these nuggets of information on her over the years and she wasn’t sure whether it was because they enjoyed doing this sort of thing to her, or whether they simply never thought to mention these things. She suspected the former, because they both shared a devilish sense of humour.

  “I remember him,” her father said. “Full of himself, he was. Used to flounce around by the boardwalk every summer. Kept on telling anyone who’d listen that he was going to be a big movie star,” he said, amused.

  “He is though, Dad,” Sacha said, wondering if her family were getting worse, or whether she’d forgotten how infuriating they could be at times like these. “Go on, Aunt Rosie, what about him?”

  Her aunt had lost interest in the conversation and was tearing the end from a slice of garlic bread. “What? Oh, sorry darling. Um, oh yes, George said he’d open your fête for you.”

  Sacha knew her mouth was open, but was too stunned to close it for a moment. “George… what?”

  “This is very good,” Alessandro said. “He is very famous in Italy also. Many people will come to the fête if he is there, no?”

  “Er,” Sacha couldn’t make her brain form cohesive words. She bit back from adding that he was also famous in his homeland. Still stuck on her aunt’s unexpected announcement, all she could think of was Bella’s reaction. She was a massive George Newton fan – bigger, even, than Sacha. She looked at Alessandro who seemed to be waiting for an answer to something. “Yes,” she said, hoping it was the right answer.

  “Do pull yourself together, Sacha,” her aunt said. “I know he’s a bit dishy,” she giggled to herself. “I could tell you a few things about Georgie.”

  “Not at this table, you won’t,” Sacha’s father said. “I think we can all imagine what you mean.”

  Damn, thought Sacha. She’d love to hear all about her aunt’s fling with the movie star. She’d make a plan with Bella to invite her to the cottage or her café to chat more about him.

  “So, what did he say?” Sacha asked, regaining some semblance of intelligent speech.

  “What?” Her aunt looked bemused, briefly. “Yes, George said he’ll be here for the next couple of weeks, some voiceover work at a studio here, or something. He’s staying at a hotel in town, but I’ve invited him to come and stay with me for a few days. The damn paparazzi have already discovered he’s here, no doubt because someone has tipped them off for a fee. I hate to see him hounded, so he’ll come to stay with me and I’ll bring him down to the fête. I thought he could give a little speech, he loves talking about his work.”

  “Doesn’t he just.” Her dad had a pained expression.

  “We’d love to hear about it,” Sacha said, still unable to believe that she was referring to ‘the’ George Newton, an older, more refined version of Tom Hardy. Although George was over forty and handsome in a classic way, he was brilliant in his latest role, playing a goofy detective who somehow captured the murderer and got the girl in the end. Sacha had only finished binge watching his latest series with Bella, Lexi and Jools the week before going on holiday with her aunt. “You do really mean the actor and not a bin man with the same name, don’t you?”

  “Shut up and listen,” her aunt said. “I gather you’re opening the proceedings at noon, so I’ll make sure he’d there in good time to be ready.”

  Sacha pictured the day. “Hopefully the weather will be good and there’ll be people on the beach from early on.”

  “Mmm, that would be nice.”

  “Can I meet him before then?” Sacha willed her aunt to agree and cheered a little more excitedly than she’d intended when she nodded. “And bring Bella?”

  The thought of not at least asking if Bella could join her, was too terrifying to contemplate.

  “Yes, bring Bella.”

  Sacha’s mind raced. She had so much to plan and prepare for and now that there would be a movie star opening the event, she really did need to make sure everything was as organised as possible.

  Later, when her mother and aunt were chatting and she’d spotted Jack and her father sneaking into the house to catch the final of the latest Formula One Grand Prix, she exchanged thoughts with Alessandro about their favourite George Newton roles in films. She couldn’t help imaging their fête being a huge success.

  “I can do a blog post and we must set up an event on Facebook and share it with all our friends,” she said, excitement growing by the minute. “We’ll only have one chance to make this fête the very best it can be,” she added, trying to think of more ways to share this exciting news.

  Alessandro sat back in his chair. “It will be a great success. How can it fail?”

  That’s what worried her. “We have to make plans for the weather letting us down, by having umbrellas on all the outside tables, and maybe a marquee at one end of the boardwalk so that if it does rain then we can still serve customers who can’t fit in the café or your gelateria. Whatever happens we have to cover every eventuality.”

  “You worry too much, Sacha,” he said. “We will all help each other to make sure everything is perfect, no?”

  She forced a smile. “Yes, you’re right. It’ll be fine,” she said, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded.

  He was silent for a few seconds. “We must make new leaflets to hand out and put up in the windows,” he said thoughtfully.

  “New ones?” The thought of spending time retracing her steps was daunting.

  “We have to add a picture of the actor, George. Tell people he will be making a speech. Otherwise how will people know to come and see him?”

  He was right. “Yes, we will. Damn. Mind you, Bella will be only too happy to update the brochure, seeing as it’s George’s picture she’ll be adding.”

  She had her work cut out for her over the next few days, but if the fête was as good as she hoped then it would all be worth it, but first, she had to speak to Bella about the leaflets.

  She chatted with everyone for a bit longer and then told them she had to leave.

  “I’ll drive you down to the boardwalk, if you like?” her aunt said. “I must get going, I promised to spend some time with George this afternoon.”

  “That doesn’t sound like much of a hardship,” she said.

  “It isn’t,” Aunt Rosie said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “He has a lot of endearing qualities.”

  “Really Rosie,” her mother said. “Stop being so coarse.”

  Aunt Rosie pulled her scarf from the back of her chair before placing it carefully over her immaculately groomed hair and tying it neatly under her chin. She reapplied her pillar box red lipstick and stood up. “I don’t recall saying anything untoward,” she said.

  Sacha tried not to let her mother see how amused she was by her
aunt’s comment. She lowered her sunglasses to cover her eyes and straightened her T-shirt as she stifled a giggle. Aunt Rosie obviously knew George Newton well and she couldn’t understand why no one had mentioned her aunt’s relationship with him before now.

  “Can you elaborate, Aunt Rosie?”

  “About what, darling?” her aunt asked a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

  Her mother grimaced. “Please, don’t get her started about George. He’s her… What is it you call him, Rosie?”

  “My occasional treat to myself.”

  “You see?” her mother said. “Coarse.”

  Sacha was intrigued. “How did you meet him and what is going on between you?”

  Aunt Rosie sighed loudly. “We met as teenagers.”

  “You are older than he is by a good few years,” her mother scolded.

  “Five or six, nothing much.”

  “Ten at least,” her mother argued.

  “Please, carry on with the story I’m dying to know,” Sacha said aware she should get a move on.

  “I’ll tell you another time,” she whispered. “Now, about George opening this event.”

  Disappointed, Sacha asked, “You’re sure he won’t mind meeting Bella and I before the day of the fête?” Her stomach fluttering in excited anticipation at the prospect. “She’s a massive fan of his and I don’t want her obsessing about him when she’ll need to help run everything.”

  “Yes, of course,” her aunt gave Sacha’s mum a kiss on the cheek. “Where have Jack and Thomas gone?”

  Her mother seemed to notice their absence for the first time and scowled. “Inside to watch the racing I should think. Very rude of them when we have guests.”

  Laughter came from the house as Jack and her father walked back out to join them.

  “You’re going, Rosie?” her father asked sarcastically. “So soon?”

  Rosie glared at him. “You know something? You’re not nearly as amusing as you assume.”

  Sacha gave her aunt a hug before they descended into a row and ruined everyone’s day. “We are grateful about you arranging for George to open the fête, truly.”