The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

by Caroline Roberts

  ‘Instant eyebrow waxing,’ Becky added with a laugh.

  ‘Hah, more like eyebrow elimination. But yeah, it’s good being my own boss,’ Lucy continued, ‘but that also has its issues, like it’s all on you. And, I could do with being a bit busier. Getting some regular bookings. I’ve not made that much money as yet,’ she admitted.

  Lucy was feeling the pressure, she knew she had to make this work out. She’d paid out on hygiene courses, all the equipment from the (very expensive) oven down to the wooden platters to serve the pizza on. The main set-up costs had now been met, but after having to put a reasonable deposit down on her cottage too, there wasn’t a lot left of her savings now.

  ‘Well honey, when life gives you lemons …’ Becky started, bringing her back to the here and now.

  ‘Make lemon cake!’ the café owner chipped in, popping Lucy’s lemon drizzle down on the table with a flourish. The two girls grinned at her.

  ‘Or pizza,’ Becky added with a beam. ‘I’m with you all the way, Luce.’ Her friend reached to touch her hand.

  ‘Oh, are you talking about your new venture, Lucy? How’s it going, my love?’

  ‘Yeah, pretty good. Three events done, and I’ve survived in one piece so far. It’s just a big learning curve, I suppose.’

  ‘Of course, it will be. It’s a big step, running your own business. Well, if you ever need any advice you can always ask me,’ Louise added. ‘I’ve faced many a challenge here over the years.’

  ‘Aw, thank you.’

  ‘Oh, and if you want a bit of time out, ladies, don’t forget the Driftwood Book Club. Last Thursday of the month, 7 p.m. All are welcome. We’ve got a great little group going on here. Book chat, cake and coffee. Just let me know if you fancy popping along, and I’ll tell you which book we’re reading.’

  ‘Sounds good. Just my kind of thing,’ Lucy replied.

  When she wasn’t working, Lucy could often be found with her nose in a book. It was one of her favourite things to do. How lovely for them both to be invited to be part of the village group, and for Louise’s offer of help and advice with her new venture. And the icing on the top was that she also happened to make some of the best cakes in the world. Lucy looked down at her wedge of lemon drizzle with a smile.

  With friends like these on board, it made her challenges seem a little lighter.

  Later that afternoon, the weather took a bad turn. Lucy and Daisy watched little plops and streams fall like teardrops down the small window panes of the cottage. Lucy switched the living-room lights on to give a cosy glow and took up her latest book.

  She was just getting to a new chapter, all settled on the sofa, when the cast-iron knocker on the front door clop-clopped, and Daisy gave a protective bark. Who on earth might that be? Lucy wasn’t expecting any visitors today. She headed out to the front door.

  A tall, lanky twenty-seven-year-old was stood on the step, his dark wavy hair dripping rain into his eyes. ‘Hey, sis.’

  ‘Olly! Quick, come on in. This is a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting you today …’ She glanced over his shoulder, no sign of his partner Alice or Freddie, their toddler. ‘On your own?’

  ‘Aye, I’ve escaped for a half-hour.’ He gave a mischievous grin. ‘I have been putting up shelves in the little man’s room all afternoon, mind. Then I was sent out to get some bits and bobs at the supermarket for supper; thought I’d drive the extra few miles and have a quick catch-up. I’ll be back at work tomorrow and it’ll be all go again for sure.’

  Olly was an electrician, working for a local company.

  ‘Fancy a coffee?’

  He put a thumbs up. ‘Never known to refuse. Unless there’s a bottle of beer handy, of course.’

  ‘That kind of a day, hey? But sorry, no beer.’ Lucy smiled.

  She got on well with her younger brother. Yeah, they’d had the odd minor tiff as kids, but there was none of that dreadful sibling rivalry between them. They’d been a team, and even though he was four years younger than her, she thought of their childhood fondly. They had fun together: beach days playing rounders, huddled in towels after a chilly dip in the North Sea, practising their basketball skills at the net in the back garden, and noisy games of Twister, Connect Four, and Mousetrap on wet days at home. She’d always felt a bit protective of him too, especially with the fallout between Mum and Dad happening whilst she and Olly were still living at home. Though teenagers, it was still tough to deal with. And, she absolutely adored his new family unit. Cheeky little Freddie was the spitting image of him as a little boy.

  ‘Get on okay at your pizza gig last night?’ Olly asked.

  He had helped install the electrics to the horsebox, all in his own time and for free, bless him, so he had an added interest in her new venture.

  ‘Yep, went off pretty well overall, I think.’

  ‘As long as the customers were happy and you got paid, that’s all that matters.’

  ‘Yeah.’ She hoped the balance payment from Abigail would show up in her account tomorrow. It was much needed.

  They headed into the kitchen and Lucy clicked the kettle on, spooning instant coffee into mugs.

  ‘I just wish Dad would be a bit more positive about it all, though.’

  ‘Yeah well, that’s Dad for you. He’ll just be worried it’s a bit of a risk, and after everything … He just doesn’t want to see you get hurt, Lulu,’ Olly added.

  The word again hanging in the air between them.

  ‘Yeah, I suppose,’ she conceded with a sigh. A lump formed in her throat as tears began welling in her eyes. She batted them back down, turning away for a brief moment. She wasn’t one to be wearing her heart on her sleeve, even with the own brother. But break-up life after Liam’s bomb of an affair had been so damned tough.

  ‘Luce, you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, fine. Just, ah, kettle steam … getting in my eyes.’

  He nodded, knowing very well she was putting on a front.

  ‘Okay, well, you’ll just have to show Dad that you can make it work.’

  ‘Hah, no pressure then!’

  ‘If anyone can do it, you can, sis.’

  ‘Thanks, Ol.’

  They sat for a while drinking coffee and chatting about their everyday lives – including little Freddie’s latest antics, Olly producing a video clip on his phone of her nephew grinning away whilst being sprayed by the garden hose, fully clothed, which had the two of them in stitches. With a busy day ahead, and shopping in the car, it wasn’t long before Olly had to go, but his words stayed in Lucy’s mind.

  Could she really do it? Could she make Papa’s pizzas work, or was her mobile catering idea just pie in the sky?

  It’s party time!

  Geoff and Hannah Allan

  are delighted to invite you to join them in their

  Silver Wedding Celebrations

  At Foxton Farm, Old Holburn

  Saturday 22nd May

  Supper, drinks and live music with the Border Busketeers

  8 ’til late!

  Chapter 5

  A couple of weeks later, Jack was steering Ruby into a field beside a country farmhouse – ‘the paddock’ apparently – for a Silver Wedding bash. He’d headed inland, passing through gently rolling hills dotted with grazing sheep and cattle, and stretches of moorland with patches of zingy-yellow gorse bushes, to find the quaint stone-built house. The old farm nestled alongside a couple of old red-tiled barns which had been decorated with festive silver-grey bunting for the occasion.

  After a soggy spell, the weather had thankfully dried out at last. So at least Ruby shouldn’t get stuck in the mud, Jack mused, as he parked up on the lush grass. Oh yes, that had happened all too often before! As a couple of other catering vans arrived, one of them being Bob’s Gourmet Burger van, a regular on the Northumbrian mobile catering scene, Jack pondered that there’d been no sign of the pizza horsebox at any of his bookings over the past two weeks. Of course, it was unlikely they’d get booked for the same events all the time,
he told himself sagely. After all, it was only occasionally that he worked alongside Bob, or the bubbly forty-something Carrie who was now pulling up in her polka-dot themed Classy Cupcakes touring caravan. But although a large part of him was relieved, another part of Jack had wondered if he might catch up with the dark-haired girl again – Lucy, that was her name. Goodness knows why. Jack remembered her being particularly frosty when they’d met and then there was her little pesky dog peeing all over his sign. But the thought that they might never cross paths again … Well, it left Jack feeling strangely unsettled.

  These mental diversions weren’t getting him anywhere. His focus needed to be on tonight’s event and getting his bar ready to roll for the first arrivals. He had a trayful of Silver Martinis to rustle up, and sharpish. They’d pour out a beautiful shade of pale-silver – perfect for the Silver Wedding event. After lifting the lid on Ruby and switching on his globe lights, he set out two cocktail shakers, retrieved the gin, vermouth and orange bitters he needed first, and went about finding his jar of maraschino cherries.

  Just as he was setting out his counter display with a row of classic V-shaped martini glasses and a colourful array of fruits and garnishes, Jack happened to look up, spotting a Jeep towing a grey wood-panelled horsebox coming through the five-bar gate. His stomach gave an unexpected flip as he recognised the mass of wavy dark hair and the rather serious-looking face of the driver, who was negotiating the narrow gap. So, they were to meet again.

  Jack smoothed down his hair distractedly, and was ready to give a small wave, just as the daughter of the Anniversary Couple appeared beside Ruby to check over a few last-minute arrangements. By the time she’d gone, he’d missed his moment and Lucy had already parked up and was head down, setting up her pizza van.

  Both the Cocktail Campervan and All Fired Up had a busy start to the evening, with a constant stream of hungry and thirsty guests arriving. There was a buzz of chatter and laughter as family and friends huddled happily outside, some sitting at a medley of tables and chairs borrowed for the event, and a local folk band started up with a jaunty tune from the shelter of a tipi-style tent. Though it wasn’t his usual taste in music – his favourite bands being The Arctic Monkeys and The Kaiser Chiefs, even if it meant he was a little stuck in his fun and free teenage years – Jack couldn’t help tapping his toes along as he worked.

  It was a dry evening but the silver-grey cloud was thickening, making it feel warm and sultry. As dusk began to fall, slowly the lights from the catering venues began to show up like festive fireflies; Ruby’s big fat stage bulbs, along with the horsebox’s trails of delicate white fairy lights, and Carrie’s cakes had strings of pink and blue bulbs, even Bob had a lit-up burger sign on the top of his van roof! Enticing smells of burgers and baking, and warm cheesy-tomato pizzas, filled the air.

  Jack glanced over to the horsebox. Pizza girl looked to be working flat out tonight, not having stopped as yet. Despite himself, Jack had taken a few quick looks in that direction in the past hour, seeing her stationed at her oven cooking post. Her cheeks were endearingly rosy, and every now and again she’d pop a strand of errant hair back in its work-mode bun and give a little flustered huff. A constant queue gathered at her homely-presented hatch with its Italian flags and twinkly lights. However cold she’d appeared towards him at the last event, there was something intriguing about her too. Maybe as things quietened down a bit, he might go across and have a quick chat with her, perhaps be a bit more welcoming, have a heart to heart from one business owner to another. Setting up your own venture was hard, but Jack had a fair bit of experience now, having built up his mobile bar business over the past four years. He knew the local catering scene – what events were worthwhile and which to avoid. Okay, so he and Pizza Girl hadn’t got off to the best of starts, but if they were going to be at the same events they’d better learn to rub along.

  As dusk began to fall, with smouldering peachy hues and sultry grey clouds darkening above, the music from the tipi began to beat louder, voices were raised, laughter rang out and along with the warm, slightly static evening air there was a sense of vibrancy, of charging electricity. Jack was busy mixing and shaking, chatting and charming. The guests were having a good time, though some perhaps a little too good; with the hosts happy to pay for everything at the bar tonight, a group of younger males were taking advantage and having their fill. Hmm, he’d have to keep a little eye on them. The rowdy group were now jostling around the makeshift dancefloor that was just inside the tipi, pretending to do Riverdance moves. In particular, one thick-set chap was getting carried away and knocking into a few of the couples already dancing. It looked very much like the lads were taking the piss out of the folk band. Jack shook his head, but was then soon distracted by the next bar order.

  A tall chap in a smart navy suit leaned against Ruby’s polished-chrome counter top. ‘Hi, do you have a cold bottled lager? And a glass of prosecco or something for the girlfriend.’

  ‘Of course, I’ve an Italian lager, or can I recommend something more local? The brewery at Wylam do a great lager-beer, perfect for a warm summer’s evening.’ Jack loved to support the local Northumberland breweries and distilleries.

  ‘Ah, go on then, I’ll give it a try.’

  ‘And for your lovely lady, why not pump up your prosecco to a sparkling wine cocktail? Passion fruit, raspberry?’ Jack gave a persuasive smile.

  ‘Sounds the biz. Better go with a passion fruit, then.’ Tall guy grinned.

  About to prep the cocktail, Jack handed over a very welcome chilled beer to the chap.

  ‘Thanks, mate. Great party. I’m Mark, by the way. It’s my mum and dad’s anniversary.’

  ‘Jack, and good to meet you. I hope your parents are having a wonderful evening.’

  ‘Yeah, they certainly are. They’re the ones still dancing away in the tent. Twenty-five years on and still going strong.’

  ‘Brilliant. Good for them.’ He felt genuinely happy that some couples could make it that far.

  Jack glanced across at the tipi, whilst reaching for the passion fruit syrup. The rowdy lads were still giving it large on the dancefloor. Jeez. Jack hoped to goodness things didn’t get messy.

  Prosecco poured, and a sprinkle of passion fruit seeds and a garnish of orange zest later, Jack handed over the cocktail creation. ‘There you go, my passion fruit fizz. Hope the good lady enjoys it.’

  ‘Wow, cheers, mate. Well, I think I’ll definitely have earned brownie points for this one.’ Mark headed off, grinning broadly, with his bottle and the fantastic flute glass to hand.

  It had been pretty hectic, but Lucy was enjoying the buzz of the evening. They’d been on the go for three and a half hours and some of the toppings were beginning to run out, but she had plenty of pizza bases, cheese and sauce left. She and Tamsin were rubbing along better tonight, and getting used to how each other worked. A system evolved between them as Lucy stretched the dough, Tamsin spread the tomato sauce, and either or both of them topped, depending on how big the queue was.

  It was lovely when the Anniversary Couple had wandered over earlier, hand in hand, to order themselves a pizza.

  ‘Oh, now then, what flavour shall we have, Geoff?’ Stood beneath a string of twinkling lights under the characterful horsebox’s open hatch, his wife, Hannah, addressed him fondly, suddenly waxing nostalgic, ‘Oh, do you remember that night, down on the quayside all those years ago, when you got down on one knee?’

  ‘I do indeed, my love,’ he answered wryly, yet with a smile that had served him well over all the years. ‘I remember it well, as my knees were killing me and I was quaking inside.’

  She batted his arm gently, before continuing. ‘You must have known I’d say yes. I’d been hinting for long enough …’ Hannah gave a wistful smile. ‘And then you took me for that Italian meal. And we shared …’

  ‘A ham and pineapple pizza,’ they both chanted, grinning.

  ‘I think I was on a budget at the time,’ Geoff chuckled.


  ‘Well, that’s got to be it, then.’

  ‘Ham and pineapple please, lass.’

  Lucy smiled at their lovely memories, yet felt a twist of pain deep inside too, that her own love life had been such a bloody disaster. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t make sure this couple had the best party ever, and suddenly remembering the romantic lad from her last booking, she made the toppings into a heart shape for them.

  Five minutes later, the couple were absolutely delighted when, after tending to it at the wood-fire oven, Lucy served the anniversary pizza to them.

  ‘Oh, look Geoff. How special! Thank you so much, Lucy.’

  Aw, and they’d even remembered her name, how sweet!

  ‘What a fabulous evening. Everything has just been perfect, and it’s so wonderful to see all our friends and family here enjoying themselves.’ Hannah was joyful.

  Lucy was thrilled to be a part of that occasion, and over the moon that her new business could make people so happy. ‘I’m so pleased for you.’

  ‘Enjoy the rest of your night, and your pizza!’ Tamsin added. Lucy soon spotted them sharing slices of her pizza beside the tipi’s ‘dancefloor’. Still happy and smiling together after twenty-five years. She sighed, she supposed marriage must work for some people, but for her … well, with asshole Liam’s affair, it had felt like she’d had a lucky escape.

  Not long after that, a group of lads came roaming across. A slight sway to their gait telling of a few too many welcome martinis and beers.

  ‘Spicy pepperoni for me,’ one of them said with a slight slur, leaning heavily and rather sweatily against the counter.

  Oh blimey, Lucy realised, it was that thick-set rugby-shirted lad and his mates from before. They’d been a bit leery with Tamsin, and she’d had to intervene and send them on their merry way. She’d then seen them getting a bit boisterous over on the dance area. ‘And a ham and mushroom,’ one of his mates added gruffly.