The Lemon Tree Café
Page 27
He whistled through his teeth at the memory.
‘I have the same problem,’ I said and explained about Garden Warehouse opening up a café half a mile from ours.
‘You have to do what inspires you, fills you with passion. If you love what you do, the customers will know and they will keep coming back. For me it is the buffalo, for you,’ he shrugged, ‘maybe, I don’t know … what do the English eat, fish and chips?’
I laughed. ‘Totally. Morning, noon and night. I’ll ask my sister Lia what she thinks – she’s the cook in the family.’
He grinned. ‘And then tell me what you decide and don’t be afraid to take risks. I want to know all about your English café from now on.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ I said, raising my glass.
Alice appeared at Paolo’s side then and kissed his cheek. ‘Ciao, darling. I have to go home to Bella.’ She smiled apologetically at me and held her hand out for me to shake. ‘It was nice to meet you. I’d love to stay and chat but my babysitter can only stay until ten o’clock.’
‘I thought her name is Adriana?’ I said, confused. I looked into my glass; perhaps I’d had more to drink than I realized.
‘Paolo’s daughter is Adriana, mine is Bella,’ Alice said with a shy laugh.
She blushed and shook my hand firmly. For a small girl she had very strong fingers. It must be all that harp-plucking.
‘I must go. Ciao.’ She waggled her fingers, kissed Paolo again and hurried off.
Paolo and I waved as she disappeared down the steps that lead from the restaurant back down to street level.
‘Sorry.’ I cringed. ‘I just assumed; I didn’t mean to embarrass her, or you.’
Paolo waved a hand dismissively. ‘Don’t worry. Alice is still getting used to telling people she has a boyfriend. My wife – Adriana’s mother – left us three years ago. I woke one morning and she had vanished.’
‘No!’ I said, shocked. That poor little girl waking to find her mother had gone. ‘What an awful thing to have to deal with.’
‘Terrible,’ he admitted. ‘But part of me wasn’t surprised. When I met her she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. My mother warned me that she wasn’t the kind to hang around, that she wouldn’t be content as a wife. She was a free … what do you say?’
‘Free spirit.’
‘Exactly. A free spirit. But I didn’t care at the time. I decided that I would be content to love her for as long as she stayed. I couldn’t believe my luck when she agreed to marry me. And when Adriana came along I had everything I could wish for. Oh excuse me.’
A glamorous woman wafted up to the bar in a cloud of heady perfume and Paolo went to serve her, making a show of pouring glasses of prosecco from a great height, kissing her hand and laughing with her.
I adored my cousin already. It would be so easy to dismiss him as a cheeky barman who loved to chat up his female customers, but there was so much more to him than that. He had been burned in love but he had bounced back. He had a business he was passionate about, a lovely new girlfriend and I bet he was a great dad too. The lady sashayed back to her friends with the glasses on a tray and Paolo rejoined me.
‘So,’ he said with a sad smile, ‘we were very happy for six years – well, I was still happy. Obviously she wasn’t. So she packed her things and disappeared without a word and I was left wondering what had gone wrong, whether it was something about me, or us, that had caused her to go.’
‘You mustn’t blame yourself,’ I said fiercely, fighting the urge to crush him to me in a big hug and then run upstairs and do the same to Adriana.
‘Human nature,’ he said simply, lifting one shoulder. ‘I dragged myself through the days. My work suffered. I was an engineer at the Sorrento council back then. It was almost impossible to look after Adriana and do my job. My little girl was the only light in my life. It became her and me against the world.’
‘I’ve got a friend like you at home,’ I said, thinking of Gabe. ‘Although his wife died suddenly. Their baby boy was only one at the time and I know he struggled to cope at first. I think he’s a brilliant dad.’
‘A boyfriend?’ Paolo arched an eyebrow.
‘Just a friend, a special friend,’ I said, shaking my head.
‘You sure?’ he said playfully, poking my shoulder, ‘because my cousin is going pink.’
‘He’s a lovely man, but we’re friends, that’s all,’ I said, feeling embarrassed suddenly. ‘His son is called Noah. He’s just started at the village school. He’s only four but such a cutie and he knows loads about the planets. And dinosaurs.’ I laughed fondly, remembering Jorvik the dinosaur that Noah had taken to the teddy bears’ picnic last Saturday. Goodness – only a week ago!
Paolo was smiling knowingly at me, arms folded. ‘Go on. I want to know more about your friend.’
‘Well, he listened to me when I needed someone to talk to. He’s very easy to talk to. And I trust him and I think because he understands what it is to be hurt, he is a good listener. And he’s a very kind person, he only moved into the village a few weeks ago, but already everyone loves him.’
I was talking too much. I sipped at my wine but the glass was empty and I just ended up making a slurping noise. Paolo poured me another and grinned.
‘Everyone?’
‘Mostly.’ I swallowed, feeling my face get redder and redder. I pressed the back of my hand to my cheek. ‘Sunburn.’
‘And he’s just a friend.’ Paolo grinned slyly, picking up a beermat and fanning my face with it. ‘Right. It sounds to me like maybe you want more from him.’
‘No,’ I protested, cursing my squeaky voice and wondering why I was blathering on about Gabe and wondering even more why it was making me so twitchy. ‘It’s never even crossed my mind.’
He nodded decisively. ‘You should go for it. If a man can make you go so hot just by listening to you, imagine what you’d do if he—’
‘Anyway,’ I said loudly, ‘back to you. How did you cope?’
‘A year after she left I had a letter from my wife.’ His gaze met mine. ‘One letter. Saying that Adriana and I are better off without her and that she met someone new in France. That letter changed everything. I stopped feeling sorry for myself and felt sorry for her instead. She would never get to know her daughter, never feel her little arms round her neck and see her smile first thing in the mornings to light up the day. So I decided to move on. I said to myself that I’m not going to be the man who gives up on life because of this. I quit my job as an engineer and took up my mother’s offer to buy the bar from her. I threw myself into renovating this place and although it was tough, living and working here made it easier to look after my little girl and then one year ago I met Alice.’
‘You make it sound easy.’
He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Not at all. It took me a long time to trust. I thought I’d never be able to let someone get close to me again and I was worried what Adriana would make of a new woman in our lives.’
His story touched my heart. More than that, it resonated so closely with mine – and Gabe’s, come to that. I wondered whether Gabe thought about women in terms of how it would affect Noah. I tutted at myself; of course he did. He’d have to be cautious. Just like Paolo.
‘How did you meet?’
‘Alice was heartbroken too. Her husband died in a boat accident three years ago. Bella was only a baby. She came into the restaurant looking for work last year and when she played her harp, it was so beautiful and haunting that I fell in love with her straight away.’ He grinned sheepishly. ‘My heart was broken, but I met someone who understood sorrow and knew how to fix it. A bit like your friend.’
‘Paolo,’ I murmured, unable to resist giving him a hug this time, ‘I’m proud of you and happy that you have met someone.’
Shortly after that, the chef brought Nonna back into the bar, both of them chattering away in Italian, Nonna rubbing her eyes and doing her best to stifle a yawn. It was time for us to leave.
‘Tempting, very tempting,’ I said, giving my new cousin a hug. ‘But we need to go home. I have a family café to revolutionize. You have completely inspired me to achieve greatness.’
Paolo puffed out his chest. ‘Then I am honoured.’
I had had a long chat with Lia while Nonna was sleeping this afternoon. Garden Warehouse had erected a huge billboard at their entrance advertising the opening of the Cabin Café ‘very soon’ and I had no time to lose if I planned to do something to combat the effect they were bound to have on sales.
‘I am so happy,’ said Nonna tearfully, grabbing Paolo by his cheeks after he had found us a taxi. ‘I never think I see my home again. Or my family.’
‘You must come back,’ he said, looking from me to Nonna. ‘I mean it, bring all the family. It is not too late for us all to be a proper family.’
‘We will,’ I promised, sneaking a look at Nonna. ‘In fact, one of us has already suggested coming back for her honeymoon.’
She sighed. ‘If it’s not too late. I not sure if he ever speak to me again.’
I frowned. Mum had been to Stanley’s bungalow on Nonna’s insistence to check he was all right and had found the curtains closed but no one at home. His neighbours hadn’t seen him either. I hoped he was OK and that he’d simply gone to visit his daughter again, but I’d feel happier when I knew for certain.
Paolo was hugging his great-aunt so tightly she was gasping for air.
‘Then you must go to this man, zia Maria; tell him how you feel, what is in your heart.’
Paolo looked at me and winked. ‘You too, Rosie.’
I was glad it was too dark to see my blushing face.
The taxi bore us away and we both waved to Paolo out of the back window.
‘I will have sweet dreams tonight,’ said Nonna, smiling to herself as she closed her eyes and the taxi hurtled across the Piazza Tasso. ‘What a lovely, lovely young man.’
‘Absolutely lovely,’ I agreed distractedly and then wondered whether I was thinking about Paolo. Or Gabe …
Chapter 28
I spooned fresh coffee into the Lemon Tree Café’s old Italian coffee machine and smiled fondly at it. It might be grumpy and fractious and completely unpredictable, but just seeing the little Italian flag on its shiny chrome front made me glow inside. I’d always been proud of my heritage, but now having spent some time there, I felt a deep connection to my Italian roots. I fetched two mugs and glanced outside while I waited for the machine to come up to pressure.
Outside the café windows, the sky was heavy and grey and couldn’t have been more of a contrast to the glorious weather I’d woken up to this morning.
We had packed our cases, deposited them with the concierge and had left the hotel straight after breakfast, determined to make the most of our last couple of hours in Sorrento. I’d accompanied Nonna as far as the Piazza Sant’Antonino where she’d arranged to meet her sister-in-law Alba. The two old ladies soon made themselves comfortable under the shade of a parasol for coffee and a catch-up. I’d left them to it and had spent a lovely hour exploring the marina, soaking up the sun reflected off the water and gazing out at the magical sight of Mount Vesuvius across the bay. I’d been tempted to hop on a ferry to Capri, but I’d have to save that for another time. Because there would be another time; Sorrento had got under my skin and I felt refreshed and energized.
It had been an amazing two days, I mused; emotional, but amazing. But now my short sojourn in Italy was over and I was back to earth with a bump. I mentally ran through what I had to do in the next two days and the sheer enormity of it made my stomach loop the loop.
Dad had collected Nonna and me from the airport, and I’d asked him to make a detour past Garden Warehouse on our way home. It was open, of course, as it was every day of the year except Christmas Day, and there were plenty of cars parked either side of the road. Clementine had placed a row of orange traffic cones at the end of her drive, I noticed, and customers were trundling back to their vehicles with big black and yellow carrier bags and trays and trays of plants.
But what had completely floored me was an enormous billboard advertising the opening of the Cabin Café with ‘special celebrity appearance’ on Tuesday. As in the day after tomorrow.
I’d felt sick when I saw it.
Less than forty-eight hours from now the Lemon Tree Café would cease to be Barnaby’s only café. And with a celebrity on the premises, to boot, there’d be no surprises as to who would have the most customers on Tuesday.
Unless, that was, I came up with something even better very quickly.
Which meant there was no time to waste, so after I’d unpacked, I’d gone straight to the café and asked Lia to meet me there. I was so fired up after my trip that I couldn’t wait to start planning. I didn’t have time on my side but I did have determination, a head full of ideas and my talented sister.
I took our coffees to the conservatory and sat down opposite her. I’d left her scrolling through the pictures of Sorrento on my phone. She handed it back to me and picked up a teaspoon to scoop up the froth from her latte.
‘Buffalo,’ I said, noticing which picture she’d been looking at. My mouth watered as I conjured up the memory of last night’s dinner, which Paolo had insisted was on the house. ‘That’s Paolo’s secret. The most amazing steak I’ve ever had. You should try it.’
‘Yeah, I’ll remember to look for it in Asda next time I go,’ she muttered.
‘Good point,’ I said, choosing to ignore her tone. ‘It might be more of a specialist butcher thing, I’ll google it.’
‘I wouldn’t bother; I can’t see buffalo catching on in Barnaby somehow,’ she said, raising a sceptical eyebrow.
She was in a bad mood, which was unlike her; she was normally such a sunny person.
‘Look at this one.’ I showed her a picture of Nonna trying to fit a huge slice of pizza into her mouth. The corners of Lia’s mouth twitched. ‘The pizza is fantastic. Light crispy base, loaded with flavour. Even the simple tomato, mozzarella and basil was amazing.’
‘Stop,’ she groaned, rubbing her stomach. A stomach which, I noticed with a jolt, was an awful lot smaller than it had been a month ago. ‘I’d kill for a slice of pizza right now. I can’t remember the last decent one I had.’
‘Sorry,’ I said with a grin, ‘I’ll stop talking about food now.’
‘So you had a good time by the look of it?’
I pulled a face and rocked my hand from side to side.
‘There were some tough moments. Visiting the cemetery was hard for Nonna and I thought she was going to have a heart attack when Marco’s sister Alba chased us down the road. But she enjoyed being back in the lemon groves and, of course, going back to the family home on Via Vittorio has made her so happy.’ I smiled at Lia. ‘The main thing is that she has finally closed the door on a very unhappy time in her life. I was glad I was there for her.’
‘Rosie Featherstone to the rescue,’ she said, blowing on her latte.
‘Hardly!’ I said, hurt.
I hadn’t meant it like that. Having only just confronted my own unhappy time, I knew how it felt to draw a line under something, to feel like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. But of course I couldn’t say any of that, so I bit my tongue and steered the conversation back to something lighter instead.
‘You’d love Sorrento.’ I sighed, reaching for the milk and adding a splash to my coffee. ‘You’ll have to go – you, Ed and Arlo – this summer, before it gets too hot. Honestly, the sea, the mountains, the lovely square and the shops! Talking of which …’ I pulled the present I’d bought her from out of my handbag. ‘For inspiration.’
She smiled her thanks and took the recipe book out of it
s paper bag and began flicking through it.
I sipped my hot coffee. It was nice but not as nice as the one I’d had this morning at the harbour.
‘And the coffee in Italy,’ I said, eager to tell her all the details, even if she didn’t seem too impressed. ‘Seriously. It is an art form over there. I had this one called caffè alla nocciola: espresso with hazelnut cream. It was so delicious I almost wept.’
Lia let out an exaggerated sigh as if she had heard enough about Sorrento to last a lifetime.
‘Sounds great,’ she said flatly, closing the book and sliding it away from her. ‘But I hope you didn’t drag me into work on a Sunday evening to brag about your trip? And I say work, but of course, only one of us gets paid for being here, so, technically—’ She broke off and smiled sweetly. ‘Anyway, thanks for the book.’
I stared at her, confused. I’d suggested that she do some work at the café as experience to help her decide if a career in food was something that she’d really like. And I certainly didn’t think I was bragging. I didn’t like the way this conversation was going at all.
‘You’re welcome,’ I said stiffly. ‘And no I didn’t drag you in for that. Paolo says that we need to revamp our menu to see off the competition and I’d really value your input.’
Lia gave me a hostile look. ‘I said we should do that ages ago. I suggested being more adventurous. You ignored me.’
A niggle of guilt crept over me.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t ignore you; I was just, well, being cautious. But that was before we had competition. Now we need to stand out. You were right.’
There was a moment’s silence while Lia eyed me warily, chewing the inside of her cheek.