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

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Summer Sundaes: Escape to the seaside with the perfect summer read! (The Boardwalk by the Sea Book 1) Page 19

by Georgina Troy


  Eventually, Alessandro came out to join them, his breath tickling her shoulder as he bent his head to say hello. Sacha turned and came face to face with Alessandro’s father.

  “Mr Salvatore,” she said, reaching to shake his proffered hand. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

  “Is good to meet with you,” he said, his accent much thicker than Alessandro’s. “My Alessandro, he tells me you sell the ice creams.” He pointed along the lane to her café.

  Sacha hadn’t expected Alessandro to tell his father about her café so soon after his arrival. “Yes, I’m afraid we’re competitors.”

  The older man gave Alessandro a quizzical look and he said something to him in Italian. He thought for a moment. “Ah, si.”

  Alessandro said another flurry of words in his musical accent and then said, “I told him we have very different businesses and that there is room enough for both here on the boardwalk.”

  He seemed to be waiting for her to confirm this comment, so she smiled at his father, and said, “That’s right. We will both be successful.”

  She wished she believed it as much as Alessandro seemed to do. Her aunt came over to join them and Sacha relaxed a little, grateful to have some of the attention taken from her. When her aunt suggested Mr Salvatore accompany her down to the sea, she relaxed a little more.

  “I’m glad Aunt Rosie is here,” Sacha said to Alessandro as they watched his father and her aunt walk away down to the beach. “She always knows the right thing to say, whereas I worry that I say the wrong thing, especially when I’m nervous.”

  “You mustn’t worry,” he said, discreetly taking hold of her hand and giving it a brief squeeze. “Remember they’ve known each other for several years and will have much to talk about.”

  She smiled up at him. “This evening is going well. It’s a great success,” she said. “Who are all these people though?”

  He puffed out his cheeks. “I am not certain. I believe I invited some of them when I gave out leaflets and others are contractors who worked hard to make this place ready for opening so quickly.”

  “They did work very hard,” she agreed. “I’m glad they’re enjoying themselves. Will you be serving any ice cream?” She hesitated and laughed. “Sorry, gelato.”

  “I like the way you say gelato,” he said. “Sorry. When my father returns, I will give a short speech and invite everyone to try a few of the flavours I made up this morning especially for the party.”

  “I’m sure they’ll want to come back for more very soon, then,” she said.

  “That is what I am hoping they will do.” Someone was calling for him. “Thank you for being my good friend, Sacha,” he whispered. “I have met so many people through your friendship.” His name was called once again. “I must go and speak to people but I will see you a little later when it is quieter, no?”

  “Of course,” she said. “Don’t be too long serving that gelato, it’s hot out here and I’m sure it must be baking inside.”

  “Backing?”

  “No,” she laughed. “Baking. Hot, with all those people standing around chatting.”

  “Ah, yes, it is very baking.”

  “I was thinking,” Bella said, when Jack had moved away to chat to two friends but still watched discretely from a distance. “When Jools gets back to the book shop after her trip, I’ll pop in to see her and arrange for us to get together for a good night out with you, me and Lexi.”

  Sacha agreed. “It’ll have to probably wait until high season ends, maybe mid-September?”

  Bella grimaced. “This grown-up life, running businesses, is a bit stifling sometimes, I find.”

  Sacha shook her head. “I love it,” she said, glancing in the direction of her café. “We do well during the summer, so we shouldn’t complain.”

  “I suppose not.”

  Jack walked back towards them. She noticed he was looking unusually smart in his beige chinos and blue linen shirt. “All this business about the fête has got me thinking about Betty and what she did. It’s hard to imagine now, isn’t it?”

  She tried to picture the frail lady with her walking stick standing up to the Nazis and her enormous respect of her increased a hundred-fold. “It’s hard to imagine this island being taken over by Nazi’s.” She couldn’t picture Betty living anywhere other than here. She was the stalwart of the boardwalk and it seemed like she’d always been here.

  “It is. Alessandro was telling me that in Italy the older people remember how it was when the Nazi’s occupied their towns. It was a dark time for so many people,” Jack said. “We all live with the remnants of that time every day and barely notice them.”

  “Like what?” she asked, intrigued.

  “Like your store room,” he said. “It’s made up of two small bunker-like rooms, which were built during the Occupation, weren’t they?”

  “They were.”

  Bella interrupted their conversation by nudging Sacha and pointing over to the end house by Betty’s home. “Look, another one of those symbols. Has anyone figured out what they mean yet?”

  “No.” Sacha wished they could discover who was responsible for them.

  “Weird,” Jack said. “Right, Aunt Rosie and Alessandro’s dad will be here in a sec, I’d better go and tip Alessandro off, so that he and Finn can start getting ready to serve the gelato.”

  It occurred to Sacha that she hadn’t seen Finn anywhere yet and wondered where he could be. She scanned the party-goers, but it was no use.

  “What are you doing?” her aunt said, joining her. “Am I missing something?”

  Sacha watched Alessandro’s father smile at her aunt before disappearing into the crowd. She turned back to her aunt. “No, I was just…” She stopped mid flow as someone tapped her on the shoulder with very cold fingers. Sacha looked up to see Finn smiling down at them. Lost for words momentarily, she eventually managed to speak. “I’d never have recognised you.”

  “Nor me,” Bella said, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

  Sacha did the same, still stunned by the change in the skinny, pale boy who used to sometimes catch the same bus as her. “You look, well, amazing.” She didn’t care that she was gushing. It was good to see Finn, tanned and smart, wearing long black trousers and a crisp black shirt with Gelateria di Isola embroidered on the pocket. He still had that lazy smile but seemed much more confident than she remembered. “Alessandro told me that you were moving down to the village to run his gelateria for him.”

  Finn looked towards the counter. “I must go, we’re very busy tonight. Maybe I’ll catch up with you both tomorrow?”

  “Come for breakfast at the café,” Sacha said. “The one over there. I’ll be inviting Alessandro and his father and we can catch up then.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be there. 9.30?”

  “Perfect,” she said, watching the tall, tanned man go back inside.

  “Who’d have thought Finn Gallichan would end up with muscles and look so hot?” Bella said, craning her neck to see him.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Sacha admitted.

  Alessandro, Finn and Salva carried round small plates with little china tubs on them, filled with flavours of gelato for all the guests to sample. Sacha picked a strawberry one and Jack and Bella chose chocolate. Her aunt took vanilla from Alessandro’s father.

  They each dug their spoons into their tubs and took a mouthful, closing their eyes to savour the flavours.

  “Bloody hell, Sach,” Jack said after his second spoonful. “You’ve got your work cut out beating this lot.”

  She didn’t need reminding, especially as she could taste the luxury in the bowl she was sampling. “We’ve decided to play on our differences, rather than worry about competing in the ice cream stakes,” she said with a little more confidence than she felt.

  Alessandro clapped his hands and called for everyone’s attention. Sacha watched as he spoke, trying but failing to take in his words. She heard his deep lilting voice, saw his perfect mouth movi
ng as he welcomed everyone, introducing Finn to those who didn’t know him before explaining what they were trying to achieve at Gelateria di Isola.

  Her stomach contracted as his smile reached his grey-blue eyes with their thick dark lashes. It seemed his work here was done and there would be little reason for him to stay on the island. Sadness coursed through her. She hadn’t been looking for a relationship when she’d accompanied her aunt to Rome, but now that she’d spent time with Alessandro, it upset her to think she wouldn’t be able to see him here, or at Bella’s.

  These summer weeks had been fun so far, more fun than she’d expected, or even wished for. It occurred to her how strange it was to not realise you wanted something until it came to you, in the form of a beautiful, sweet Italian man. She felt bereft at the knowledge that his leaving would dull the rest of her summer. She wasn’t looking forward to having to say goodbye to him and decided that she needed to put aside any worries about their businesses, and even the fête, and take some time out to be with him. She would look up more archaeological sites on the island to take him to. They could go at sunrise or even just before the sun set on these long sunny evenings. Either way, she was going to make time for him before he had to leave.

  Jack and Lucy could look after the café for her, and now that Alessandro had Finn working for him, he could surely afford to do the same.

  The evening passed quickly, and she managed to catch a brief moment with Alessandro and his father to invite them to breakfast the following morning. She didn’t mention to his father that she mainly wanted to take the opportunity to demonstrate how different the Summer Sundaes Café was to the gelateria. She was delighted when they accepted and agreed to be there at 9.30, with Finn.

  “Good morning,” she said, looking up as they walked in through the café door. “Please take a seat.” She indicated the table she’d reserved for them next to the window, before turning to Milo and handing him three menus. “Please can you take these to table three and take their order. I’ll be over as soon as I’ve finished serving these customers.”

  “Should I make some suggestions, like our brilliant full English breakfast, or the pancake with blueberries, that sort of thing?”

  “That would be perfect,” she said, thinking how naturally this work came to the young lad. She could picture him having his own business when he was older, he certainly worked hard enough and always picked up new things the first time he was shown. “Thanks, Milo.”

  She served two customers, noticing how Mr Salvatore was checking out her décor and the people eating in the café. She washed her hands and went over to join them.

  “Hi,” she said. “Thank you for coming this morning.”

  “Thank you for asking us,” Mr Salvatore said. “Alessandro, he tells me how good your food is here and that I must eat your bacon and the eggs.”

  Alessandro smiled at her, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “My father was saying how different our establishments are.”

  “Yes,” she said, focusing her attention on his father, relieved Alessandro had already begun this line of conversation. “In my café, people come to relax over a meal, some spending an hour or so enjoying their food and chatting. In Alessandro’s, they might sit for a while to savour one of his delicious sundaes, but usually they’ll buy what they’ve ordered and eat it on the beach.”

  “It’s true,” Alessandro added. “There isn’t the space for many people to sit at tables or even at the counter at Gelateria di Isola. We cater for customers in different moods.”

  Jack arrived, followed by her aunt. “Bella won’t be able to join us this morning,” he said. “She’s a bit busy at the shop.”

  “That’s fine, I wasn’t expecting her,” Sacha said. “Good morning, Aunt Rosie,” she added, giving her aunt a brief hug. “Please, sit down next to Mr Salvatore.”

  She wondered if Alessandro’s father was aware of them trying to make his breakfast as enjoyable as possible. She glanced at him and could see a twinkle in his blue-grey eyes similar to the one she’d just noticed in his son’s, and suspected he knew full well what was going on. It heartened her to think he might be accepting their rivalries as friendly, in a way that could benefit both their businesses.

  They ordered a range of dishes from the menu and Mr Salvatore seemed to be suitably impressed. She waited for him to finish devouring his breakfast and when he’d set his knife and fork down on his plate asked, “How was that, Mr Salvatore? Did you like it?”

  He nodded. “It was very good. I wish I was staying here a little longer, I would come back for another of your full English breakfasts tomorrow.”

  She relaxed a little and smiled at Alessandro, suspecting he had encouraged his father to be open to judgement.

  “You see, Salva?” Aunt Rosie finished her fruit salad and smoothie. “British breakfasts are delicious.”

  Alessandro glanced at her half empty bowl and up at Sacha. “These pancakes were very good, too,” he said.

  Her laughter was cut short by everyone’s attention turning to someone standing behind her. It was her father, scowling at Mr Salvatore.

  “Well, if it isn’t Salva. I never thought I’d see you again,” he said.

  “Papa?” Alessandro looked concerned. “You know Mr Collins?”

  She noticed any amusement on Mr Salvatore’s face vanishing instantly as he glared up at her father. So they did know each other. It didn’t bode well.

  “Thomas,” he said, wiping his mouth on his napkin. “So, you kept this café?”

  “It is my daughter’s business now,” her father said, with suppressed anger.

  Sacha studied his expression and then Mr Salvatore’s. The men were still glaring at each other. “How do you know each other?” she asked. She could see the other customers trying not to look interested in the tense exchange.

  “I don’t wish to discuss it,” her father said. Sacha was used to him being headstrong, but never rude.

  Aunt Rosie cleared her throat and patted the table with her fingers. “Gentlemen, I think now is not the time to rake over your grievances with each other.”

  “Dad?” Sacha touched his arm to get his attention.

  Her father forced a smile. “A young man’s battle,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

  He lowered his face towards Mr Salvatore and said, “I think we need to speak away from here. There are a few things I have to get off my chest.”

  “Dad,” Sacha said, forcing a smile. “Can I show you something in one of the storerooms?”

  “What?” he frowned, and then seeing her expression, nodded. “Yes, of course. Let’s go now.”

  She walked passed the tables, smiling and exchanging comments with her regulars, until she and her father reached the counter. “Please look after everyone, I won’t be long,” she said to Lucy, who was standing wide-eyed at the unexpected excitement.

  “Dad?” she said, waiting for him to join her in the furthest storeroom.

  “Before you say anything,” he said, his voice low. “There are some things you don’t know.”

  She stared at him, trying to imagine what they could be. When nothing further was forthcoming, she asked. “And these things would be?”

  “It’s not for me to say, not now, anyway.”

  Sacha took a deep breath. “Dad, it’s difficult enough trying to make things work without you and Alessandro’s father falling out about something that happened years ago. Please can you speak to him and smooth things over before he goes back to Italy?”

  He took a deep breath. “I can’t believe Salva is young Alessandro’s father. I liked the boy, too.”

  She had no idea what he meant and had to concentrate on not letting the panic she was feeling overtake her. “Dad, what’s this is all about?”

  “Not today.” He breathed heavily for a moment, his face reddening. “It’s typical of your aunt to be sitting there with him, after everything that happened.”

  Perplexed by her father’s anger, Sacha hu
gged him. “Dad, please calm down, I’m sure whatever it is can be sorted out.” She hoped she was right. She needed to find a way to calm things down between the two men, and watched anxiously as her father paced back and forth. “Why don’t you go out the back?” she said, pointing to the door they rarely used. “I’ll have a word with Alessandro and maybe we can arrange for you and his dad to meet up and talk. It would have to be today though,” she said, sorry that she wouldn’t have time to placate him further, or maybe talk to her mother and persuade her to do the same. “We could meet at the house.”

  His face puce with fury, he glared at her. “I have nothing to say to that… that…”

  “Dad, please lower your voice.”

  “That man is not coming to my home, Sacha,” he murmured through gritted teeth.

  She watched him storm off out of the café and up the road, hoping that the walk up the hill to the house would give him time to calm down.

  Returning to the table, she sat down. “Dad’s had to leave, but I think it’s probably a good idea if the two of you meet up and talk things through.”

  Mr Salvatore straightened his watch on his wrist. “It seems to me that Thomas has not changed very much over these past decades. Still the hot-headed man I used to know.”

  “Papa,” Alessandro groaned. “Any ill feeling between you two is not Sacha’s fault, or mine.”

  Not wanting the relationship between her and Alessandro to sour, Sacha thought quickly. “You could have a chat somewhere neutral, away from the café,” she said. “I can speak to my dad and sort something out, if you like? I’ll send you a message if he agrees to meet you today, and we can decide on a time. What do you think, Mr Salvatore?”

  “I think it’s an excellent idea,” Aunt Rosie said, patting Mr Salvatore’s arm.

  He still didn’t look entirely convinced, Sacha thought. She gave Alessandro a pleading look. He said something quickly in Italian. His father replied and it looked as if he was arguing with Alessandro, but a short while later, Alessandro smiled.

 

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