Summer Secrets at the Apple Blossom Deli

by Portia MacIntosh

  She hurries over to the stage, taking the gaze of most of the room with her.

  I know that helping out Mary-Ann and Jessica may have benefited me, but that’s not why I did it. I wanted to help. And I did try and bake, I really did. It was relying on bloody Nathan to help me last night that was my downfall, but even if I did throw him under the bus, is that a good enough excuse? And Frankie loves his dad, what would he think if he saw me passing the blame on to him?

  ‘Now, this raffle might just be our biggest yet,’ Mrs Snowball says, to an echo of woos around the room. ‘We’ve got a three-course meal in the private room at The Hopeful Ghost tonight, a hamper full of delicious foods from a range of local shops, and, the pièce de résistance, a brand-new 42-inch TV, generously donated by an anonymous parent.’

  Mrs Snowball winks at Avril, who bats her hand and flashes a faux embarrassed smile. Anonymous indeed.

  ‘Come on, kiddo, let’s get out of here while they’re distracted,’ I whisper to Frankie, ushering him towards the door.

  ‘I hope you’ve all got your tickets ready,’ Mrs Snowball says, plunging her hand into a small red bag. She rummages around in there before pulling one out. ‘And the winner is…ticket number 202. Anyone? Anyone?’

  We’re just about through the door when Frankie pipes up: ‘We won, Mum! We won!’

  I look at my son who is holding the raffle ticket I’d forgotten we were pressured into buying a couple of days ago. I only bought it so that we didn’t look bad, so I told Frankie he could have it.

  ‘Mum, we won,’ he says again.

  I glance around to see everyone staring at us, once again, only this time with a bitter resentment beneath their glares.

  ‘Of course we did,’ I reply.

  Carrying a 42-inch TV to your car, alone, is no easy feat, and it’s a task that is somehow made harder when you’re being watched by an angry mob of parents who are secretly hoping you’ll drop it – preferably on your own foot. The hamper was pretty heavy too, I had to take things to the car in two trips.

  I can tell people are angry because I won – I didn’t want to win, I wish I hadn’t – and I did consider refusing it, but I imagined that somehow making people mad too. I am well and truly back in everyone’s bad books, and just when I thought I’d made so much progress too. It was hard getting into their good books before but it’s going to be even harder now.

  ‘Nathan, can you get something from the car for me please?’ I ask as I walk in, dumping the hamper down on the floor.

  ‘After this,’ he says, unable to remove his eyes from the TV. ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s an even bigger TV,’ I tell him and he’s suddenly interested.

  ‘Hmm?’ he says, his eyes wide.

  ‘Hmm,’ I confirm.

  Nathan jumps to his feet and runs out to the car like a kid on Christmas morning.

  ‘I’ll go help,’ Frankie says, running out after him.

  ‘Where’s Viv?’ I ask once they’re back inside, as I take things from the hamper and put them in the right place in the kitchen.

  ‘She’s out with her fancy man and she said not to wait up,’ Nathan says. ‘Good news for you, right?’

  ‘Is it?’ I reply.

  ‘Yeah, he was saying how he wants to work in the deli,’ Nathan informs me as he unboxes the new TV. ‘We could sell the old TV and buy a sofa bed for in here, so I don’t have to sleep in the van any more.’

  I ignore his comment about the sofa because there is no way he is moving in properly. Sure, he’s pretty much living here seeing as how he’s using the facilities and spending his every waking moment on the sofa, but the fact that he sleeps outside is – I think – the boundary that stops him feeling like he’s got his feet under the table, that will keep him motivated to find work and a place of his own. If I buy him a bed, that will be it, he’ll be happy enough living here, sponging off us, getting in the way, rubbing me up the wrong way.

  ‘Biagio said he’d work for me?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he replies. ‘That’s great, right?’

  ‘It might be too little too late,’ I admit. ‘And if Viv breaks his heart…’

  My mum isn’t one to take a long-term lover.

  ‘You’re never happy, Lil, are you?’

  ‘Are you kidding me?’ I reply. ‘I’m not happy because the whole baking thing was a disaster – everyone knows I faked it. Any headway I’d made has been erased. I’d say I’m back to square one, except I think I’m in a worse position now.’

  ‘You got this rad TV though,’ he replies. ‘So it’s not all bad.’

  ‘Way to look at the silver lining,’ I reply sarcastically.

  ‘How about we have a boys’ night?’ Nathan suggests to Frankie. ‘We could watch Blackfish.’

  ‘Yes,’ Frankie chirps.

  ‘Erm, no,’ I say. ‘He’s not watching that.’

  ‘Why not?’ Nathan asks.

  ‘Because he’s 8.’

  ‘You can never be too young to learn about the dangers of keeping killer whales in captivity.’

  ‘But you can be too young to watch something like that and escape without being traumatised,’ I point out.

  ‘OK, fine, we’ll watching something kid-friendly, I’ll pop us some popcorn – how about that?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Frankie enthuses. ‘Can we, Mum?’

  ‘OK, sure,’ I reply. ‘I need to pop out tonight anyway. Just promise me you’ll keep him out of trouble.’

  ‘When is Frankie ever trouble?’ Nathan replies.

  ‘I was talking to Frankie,’ I point out, grabbing my phone as I head into my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

  ‘Hello, Blossom,’ Alfie answers cheerily. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Ohhh.’ I laugh. ‘Not amazing. Would you be interested in dinner this evening?’

  ‘I would,’ he replies. ‘Did you have anything in mind?’

  ‘I actually won a three-course meal at The Hopeful Ghost tonight, if you fancy it?’

  ‘You won it?’ he echoes. ‘OK, sure. I’ll get ready then pick you up?’

  After making a plan I begin rushing around my room, trying to transform myself from a stressed out single mum into a sexy single lady – well, the closest thing I can get to the latter.

  I step into a red off-the-shoulder cocktail dress, teamed with a black leather jacket – because with the summer coming to an end it’s finally starting to feel a little chilly on an evening now – before climbing into a pair of red heels and slicking on some red lipstick. I blend my black smoky eyes out a little as I look in the mirror, wondering whether this outfit is a bit much for a dinner at the local, but as I look at the time I realise it’s too late to change now.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Nathan asks angrily as I kiss Frankie on the cheek before heading for the door.

  ‘Out,’ I tell him. ‘And, what was it my mum said? Don’t wait up.’

  Chapter 32

  Winning this dinner tonight is worth more than any TV, because I’m at The Hopeful Ghost, with Alfie, with their private function room to ourselves. I might have worried that I was overdressed but as soon as I got in Alfie’s car and saw that he was wearing a navy suit, I relaxed. He’s clearly made an effort tonight too.

  The food here at The Hopeful Ghost is great. It’s just good, old-fashioned pub grub, but it’s done so well.

  To start with, I opted for the haddock fishcakes, topped with a poached egg and hollandaise sauce, which was absolutely delicious – so delicious that I cleared my plate, which is why, when they placed my main down in front of me, I was worried I might not be able to eat it. The roast beef was cooked to perfection, the vegetables were spot on, and the giant Yorkshire pudding – puffed up like a cloud – was perhaps the best bit.

  My dessert, baked chocolate chip cookie dough with peanut butter ice cream, has just been placed down in front of me and, despite thinking I was full, the sight of it has caused my stomach to somehow make way for more.

  As soon as we
arrived, I filled Alfie in on the latest drama in the life of Lily Holmes, and after a brief chuckle at the absurdity of the chain of events that saw me resume my public enemy number one title, he assured me that everything was going to be OK. His optimism is touching, but I’m not sure I have his faith.

  After polishing off as much of my dessert as possible, I finish off my Westwood Farm cider.

  ‘God, these are good,’ I tell him.

  ‘Thanks,’ he replies. ‘I’m hoping to sell them further afield, you can only get them locally at the moment. Watch this space.’

  I’m not just saying this because he’s my friend, his ciders really are amazing and they should be sold all over the country. I feel like they’d be really at home in a YumYum deli, alongside our other speciality alcoholic drinks. I’m going to give Eric a call in the morning and mention it to him.

  ‘The deli is pretty much ready to open now – the only thing we’ll be missing is customers.’

  ‘I believe in you and I believe in the deli,’ he says and, again, I wish I had his faith. ‘Why don’t we go for a walk? I could do with it, after everything I just ate, and maybe we’ll come up with something that might help.’

  ‘That would be great,’ I reply. ‘I’m in no rush to go home.’

  Alfie smiles.

  ‘You know, I think that might be the first time you’ve called this place home.’

  ‘Really?’ I reply.

  ‘Yeah, you always refer to it as “the cottage”,’ he points out. ‘Do you think you might be finally fitting in?’

  ‘If you’d asked me that this time yesterday, I probably would’ve said yes,’ I say. ‘But now, everything feels messy again.’

  As we leave the pub and walk along the seafront, I take Alfie by the arm. This is mainly to steady myself on the bumpy path, but there’s also this overwhelming urge to be close to him.

  ‘It’s chilly tonight, isn’t it?’ I say, offering up an alternative reason for holding on to him.

  ‘It is,’ he replies. ‘I’d say it was a welcome break, after some of the roasting nights we’ve had this summer, but apparently it feels so much colder because of the wind, ahead of the storm coming tomorrow.’

  ‘I heard about it on the news,’ I tell him. ‘Am I going to be OK in the cottage or am I going to wake up in Oz?’

  Alfie laughs.

  ‘You know where I am if you need me,’ he says. ‘But I’m sure Nathan will know what to do, given his experience.’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course, his experience,’ I reply. I’m growing increasingly convinced he doesn’t actually have any real experience in anything, and I have a few pieces of wood haphazardly placed in a tree to show for it.

  ‘We haven’t walked this way before,’ I say. We’ve been on a few walks together and we’ve been around looking at the sights, but this part of the beach is new to me.

  Alfie leads me to a small cove. A private little nook in a coastline I thought I’d seen every inch of. It’s dark here, and oddly quiet – I suppose because we’re away from the roads, and the public hot spots.

  Using our phone torches for light, we walk across the small patch of sand, sandwiched between sea and grass. Alfie leads me towards a weather beaten old bench with a rusted plaque screwed onto the backrest. I hold my torch closer to it, leaning in to get a better look.

  ‘In loving memory of Donald and Joan Barton,’ I read out loud. ‘Were they related to you?’

  Alfie nods as we sit down.

  ‘My grandparents,’ he tells me. ‘You know that my relationship with my dad wasn’t great, and that my mum’s relationship with my dad wasn’t great either. I don’t think anyone who knows about my parents’ marriage is surprised I’m 35 years old and unmarried, because growing up in that kind of environment isn’t exactly an advert for it. But my grandparents were a different story. They met when they were kids, they got married, had my dad and lived happily together until my granddad died. My grandma, who was seemingly healthy, died of a heart attack a few weeks later. Now, I’m not saying she died of a broken heart, but that’s what everyone said at the time. What I do know is that they devoted their lives to one another and that’s why I’m not put off love and relationships, because some of them work and some of them don’t. But the great ones are really something special, you know?’

  ‘I know,’ I reply with a smile.

  ‘Bad experiences put us off things, but everything has the potential to be something great. Don’t let a little setback convince you that you can’t be happy here. The headway you made with the mums at school is a sign you should keep at it, because it is possible.’

  ‘I know, I know. I just feel like this is a big sign that I should give up.’

  ‘This isn’t a sign,’ he laughs, wrapping an arm around me. ‘Signs are more obvious.’

  As I turn to look at Alfie and smile, I notice that he’s already looking at me. Our faces are just inches apart and all I want to do is kiss him, because he’s wonderful, because he looks after me, because my feelings for him just won’t go away. Is he giving me a sign that I should kiss him? Or are signs really much more obvious than this?

  I feel my breathing quicken as we look into each other’s eyes. As much as I want to kiss him, I should respect what he said about wanting to be friends, and not wanting to get involved with me while things are so messy. I should…it would be awful of me if I didn’t…and yet…

  I’ve barely moved my face an inch towards his when his phone rings from inside his pocket. I quickly pull back.

  ‘It won’t be anything important,’ he insists.

  ‘No, no, it’s fine, answer it,’ I say, feeling a little saved by the bell. If I had tried to kiss him, and friends was still all he wanted to be, I would’ve ruined everything.

  ‘It’s just Charlie,’ he says. ‘I’ll call her back later.’

  ‘No worries,’ I say, wiggling free from his arm.

  If there really are unexplained signs in the universe, this seems like a pretty blatant one.

  Chapter 33

  Today I am working from home, and by working from home I mean I’m sitting on the unusually vacant sofa with my notebook (that is now officially just a notebook and not a diary, because I never actually wrote anything in it) doodling the name of the deli – kind of like a young girl would do with her crush’s surname.

  It’s much colder today, especially now that the storm is starting to pick up outside, so I’m curled up with a big pot of tea, a leftover brownie and a blanket wrapped around my legs.

  Life doesn’t stop because of a bit of bad weather (rainstorms and soon to be 50 mph winds, specifically), especially here on the coast where everyone seems used to it, so after a session here trying to come up with titles, I need to pop to the deli to accept a delivery, then I need to rush over to the school where Frankie and his schoolmates will be singing for the mums and dads as part of their autumn celebration. I hated doing stuff like that when I was at school but, now that it’s my kid taking part in them, I can’t get enough of them.

  ‘Look at you,’ I say to my mum as she walks out of our bedroom. I guess I’m used to sharing my space with her now, I don’t really think twice about it. It’s just the new normal, sharing my bed with my mum. I suppose we need to talk about what’s happening long-term, I’m just scared to do it in front of Nathan in case he thinks he’s included.

  ‘Just something I threw together,’ my mum says, giving me a twirl. She’s wearing a red jump suit that you might think is too young for someone her age, but she looks amazing it in.

  ‘Are we going to talk about you and Biagio?’ I ask.

  ‘Lily, I really like him,’ she gushes.

  ‘You really like everyone,’ I laugh. ‘But thank you for convincing him to come and work for me, he called yesterday to tell me. I called Eric and Amanda and told them all about him, how well the tasting party went, what kind of new things we should stock – I didn’t mention the whole Great British Fake Off debacle. So they’re delighted.’<
br />
  Viv laughs.

  ‘Everything will be fine,’ she assures me. ‘And…I don’t know, it’s just different with Biagio. It’s true what they say about Italians being the best lovers.’

  ‘Ah, Viv, please, you’ll put me off my brownie.’

  ‘Sewage backing up out of the toilet wouldn’t put you off a brownie,’ she reminds me. I scrunch my face up in disgust but realise she may have a point. I do love chocolate.

  ‘He’s nice to me,’ she says, softening a little, letting her usual sassy guard down. ‘I feel like he cares about me, and about what is on the inside.’

  ‘That’s really nice,’ I tell her. ‘Well, go, have a lovely lunch with him, try and keep it PG if you’re going to a restaurant.’

  ‘I will,’ she laughs. ‘See you at the concert.’

  ‘See you,’ I laugh.

  I feel like ‘concert’ is a term too grand to describe forty kids singing in a small hall, but it’s nice to see her excited about it too. Even Nathan is coming, despite the fact that it clashes with Escape to the Country, which Frankie is more excited about than anything. He went off to school this morning with a real spring in his step, after spending extra time in the bathroom getting ready so that he would look his best for his performance. He was over the moon to learn that he’s invited to Simon’s birthday party, and it sounds like the kids at school are starting to embrace him, even if the adults still aren’t crazy about me.

  Nathan comes charging into the cottage like a baby elephant, dropping a pile of papers down on the table in front of me.

  ‘New Delhi!’ he bellows.

  ‘That’s probably a bit too meta for somewhere like here,’ I tell him. ‘Plus, I already came up with a name: Apple Blossom Deli. I forgot to tell you.’

  I didn’t forget to tell him, it just didn’t seem important to keep him in the loop.

  ‘What?’ he asks, puzzled.

  ‘Calling the new deli, New Deli. I think it’s a bit too meta for the area, everything is kind of traditional and—’

  ‘No idea what you’re talking about,’ he interrupts me. ‘What I’m talking about is the job I just got offered in New Delhi, starting ASAP, they’re paying for flights over later today. Pack your bags, go get Frankie from school, let’s do this.’