The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

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The Seaside Cocktail Campervan Page 12

by Caroline Roberts


  Lucy chuckled. Back to real life. Safer ground. No daft daydreams about bar guys and summer kisses. She’d keep all that romantic stuff for her books.

  Chapter 17

  Back at his lodgings, Jack was also dwelling on the day. It was a long while since he’d spent such a relaxed time with a woman. There were no strings, no expectations, just the chance to chat and chill out together as they’d started to get to know each other. He’d really enjoyed her company, and she was pretty damned gorgeous too – all dark bouncy hair and those soulful brown eyes. They’d talked easily, yes, but he instinctively knew there was so much more to this woman. She played her cards close to her chest, about her past, her feelings, who she really was. But that just made him all the more intrigued.

  He still felt a bit mortified about that daft attempt at a kiss. He wondered what would have happened if that bloody Devil Dog hadn’t pulled her away? The jealous little mutt. But maybe it was for the best. It might only have served to confuse matters. It wasn’t like he was looking for anything more from her.

  Maybe he’d get to see her again at an event in the coming weeks. He hoped her venture would soon get off the ground and thrive; she deserved that. She was ambitious; a hard worker.

  Jack sighed and made his way to his laptop; no rest for the wicked. He’d jazz up his social media business pages. He’d taken a few shots of Ruby in full swing at his last event, with some close-ups of his summer-style cocktails to pop on his Insta and Facebook pages. He had some great online supporters, and loved the chat and banter there. It had also helped to get Jack’s Cocktail Campervan noticed.

  Later, he made a couple of calls confirming this week’s bookings; a professional and friendly approach. He liked to check timings and details, giving the clients a chance to go over any last-minute requests too. He’d only once been let down – the organiser having totally forgotten about booking the event, and due to a change in circumstances hadn’t asked any guests along either – and fool that he was back then, Jack had taken no deposit. He’d learnt from that mistake.

  ‘Hi, it’s Jack from the Cocktail Campervan,’ he said cheerily, launching into his call for a 40th Birthday Bash. ‘Is that Nikki?’

  ‘Hello, there. Yes, yes, it is.’

  ‘Hi, I’ve got a booking with you for this Friday evening, so it’s just a courtesy call to double check timings and any last-minute details or requests you might have.’

  ‘Oh, hi Jack, thanks for the call. Thank heavens you’re still okay to come.’ She sounded rather stressed on the other end of the line.

  ‘Well yes, of course. Why, has there been a problem or something?’

  ‘Bloody hell, yes, you could say that,’ she huffed. ‘I had a call earlier from the caterer who was meant to be doing the buffet. They’ve only gone and had a case of suspected E-coli. Got to shut the whole thing down for a couple of weeks and totally disinfect. I’ve been making calls frantically, trying to get a new caterer, but to no avail. Where the hell do I find someone good, who isn’t already booked up, this late in the day?’

  ‘Well then …’ This was it, Lucy’s chance. Jack was sure she’d step up to the mark. ‘I think I might just be able to help you there.’

  ‘You can?’ The woman sounded relieved and a little surprised.

  ‘Yeah, I’ve a friend who’s just set up her own pizza van – well, horsebox, in fact. It looks really great. Got that cute vintage feel. So, how does pizza sound? I mean they’re amazing, top-quality, homemade, stone-baked, and delicious. I’ve tasted them, so I can definitely vouch for them.’ He was doing his best salesman pitch.

  ‘Umm, pizza’s a start, but I really need a bit of variety. I had a full buffet booked with this catering company: starters, salads, dessert, the works.’

  ‘Oh well, I’m sure she’d be keen. She does garlic breads … perhaps salads would be fine. I can ask about dessert options for you, too.’ He was really going out on a limb here, he knew, but Lucy had said she was desperate for more business. Even if she went and bought in some good puddings from the local cash and carry, that could work. He was thinking on his feet.

  ‘Sounds interesting …’

  ‘Okay, well let me give her a ring. And then, if she’s up for it, which I’m pretty certain she will be, then is it okay to pass on your number? I’ll get her to call you as soon as poss. Put your mind at rest.’

  ‘Oh Jack, you might just be a life-saver, well a party-saver anyhow. I was stressing out that I’d have to try and cater for sixty people myself. And it’s meant to be a surprise. It’ll be a bit of a giveaway if I’m stood cooking all bloody day!’

  ‘No worries, I’m happy to help.’

  ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘And I’ll be there for 7 p.m. as planned, yeah?’

  ‘Yes, perfect. Thanks again,’ Nikki’s voice had lifted with relief.

  He couldn’t let her down now. As he turned off the call, Jack suddenly realised that he didn’t have Lucy’s mobile number. Right, well he’d have to message her via her Facebook page which he’d spotted the other day, and quickly. He didn’t want another catering firm stepping into the gap in the meanwhile.

  He started typing:

  Hi Lucy. I’ve a gig for you this Friday if you’re interested? 40th Birthday. A pizza booking with some extras needed too. Filling in for a last-minute cancellation. Job’s yours if you’re up for it? Give me a call asap, Jack

  He paused … should he finish with a kiss or not? Ah, go for it:

  x

  He added his mobile number and pressed Send. Done. And now all he had to do was wait.

  Chapter 18

  Lucy was making sandcastles in her brother’s back garden, having some hands-on fun with her two-year-old nephew in his sand-pit, when her phone buzzed.

  A notification from Facebook. She clicked onto it. Oh, it was Jack, via her page. That Jack. She quickly read the message. Oh, it was a work thing … and great … there was a job coming up … this Friday. She laughed out loud at ‘some extras needed too’! Was that for cocky barman Jack the Lad or the party organiser, she mused? But, wow, a new booking, and just when she needed the business so badly. He’d come up trumps.

  She swallowed the small feeling of disappointment that he hadn’t been messaging to meet up again. Stop dreaming, Lucy. Enough of that.

  ‘Pat it, Annie Lucy.’ Little Freddie brought her back to the here and now. He’d not quite mastered the word ‘Auntie’, so she was Annie Lucy. Lucy turned over the castle pot, and they patted it together with little plastic spades. She was really fond of her nephew. Her own dreams of having a family sometime soon had been blown apart with the news that Liam was leaving her – well, to be fair, after his appalling behaviour, it was more like a bloody big shove out the door on her part. She lifted off the pot carefully.

  ‘Yay, it’s a good one, Freddie.’

  ‘Yesss! I find flower … put on it.’ And off he toddled happily, towards the garden border where Daisy dog was sniffing about.

  ‘Olly,’ Lucy called out to attract her bro’s attention. ‘Can you come and watch Fred a mo? Got a call to make.’ Her nephew was at the age where he needed constant monitoring. And well, she really couldn’t afford to miss out on this booking. It was great that Jack had thought of her business. She did feel a bit anxious after the near-kiss moment, but she only needed to be polite to him, after all; no reason to have to mention that at all.

  ‘No worries.’ Olly headed out the back door of their modern brick semi-detached home, ready to take over.

  ‘Be back in a minute, little man,’ she called to her nephew.

  ‘Pop the kettle on while you’re in there, sis. I was just about to make us a cuppa.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Lucy felt strangely nervous typing in Jack’s number. She wasn’t sure if it was about the possible booking or just having to speak with him after that rather gorgeous afternoon they’d spent on Sunday.

  He picked up quickly. ‘Hello, it’s Jack.’


  ‘Hi, it’s Lucy.’

  ‘Oh, Lucy, hi. So, you got my message …’

  ‘Yeah, about a booking?’

  ‘Yep, I’m doing a 40th Birthday party this Friday, and the family have been let down by the catering company. Had to cancel due to a case of E-coli or something.’

  ‘Oh crikey.’

  ‘Anyway, Nikki, that’s the woman organising the party for her husband, is desperate for someone to replace them.’

  ‘Okay, sounds good so far. How many is it for?’

  ‘Around sixty guests. The only thing is … it’s not just pizza she’s after.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Well, the original company were doing a full buffet, so Nikki’s thinking of salads, and perhaps something else to go with the pizza … oh, and puddings.’ She could hear Jack’s voice dip as though he realised this was a bit of an ask.

  ‘Oh.’ How could she do all that? Her brain began to whirr. Well, okay, salads, pizza garlic breads, and yes … perhaps some antipasti with olives and charcuterie. Yes, that could work, but puddings? She’d never been much of a dessert maker. But oh blimey, this … this was too damn good a chance to miss.

  ‘You’ll be well paid, I’m sure. I’ve already received a decent deposit on the booking. Anyway, look, I can give you her number. She’d like you to call her to chat things through, if that’s okay. I just thought of you, and it seemed too good an opportunity to miss.’ He echoed her thoughts.

  ‘Yes, thanks, yes, it is … umm, thank you, Jack.’ She then punched the details into her contacts. ‘Right, well, I suppose I’d better make that call then. Cheers.’

  No mention was made of their afternoon together, Lucy wasn’t sure if she was relieved or concerned by that – had she been over-dramatising things? And the call ended swiftly.

  And so, she found herself chatting away to the hostess, Nikki, and agreeing to cater for sixty people in just three days’ time; providing pizzas, sides, and a selection of puddings. Oh my god, it was a good booking, but bloody hell, she’d have her work cut out. She poured out the tea for her and Olly in a bit of a daze and took two mugs out to the garden bench. ‘Here you go, Olly. Oh, and Freddie, wow, that looks amazing.’ A big purple trumpet-like petunia flower had been placed on top of the castle they’d just made, along with a stick flagpole that Olly was busy attaching a leaf to. Daisy dog bustled up next to little Freddie who patted her head excitedly in a slightly rough manner, but the little dog was fine with that. Daisy was good with small children, and they in turn seemed to love her.

  ‘Any luck?’ Olly asked cautiously, aware that the pizza venture had been going rather slowly so far.

  ‘Yeah, I’m glad I made the call. I’ve just taken a booking for sixty people, Ol … for this coming Friday.’

  ‘Oh, wow. Well done you.’ Her brother gave her a big thumbs up. ‘You see, it’s building. I have every faith in you.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m going to have to do some serious blagging though, I need pudding options and I’m no baker!’ She pulled a grimace.

  ‘Hmm, there are no pizza puddings as far as I know, sis. And I hate to remind you but your last attempt at a Victoria sponge wasn’t exactly a success.’ He gave a wry smile.

  ‘I know.’ She groaned. That particular cake had sunk in the middle, and looked rather sorry for itself. Mind you, she was just getting used to the oven’s settings in her new cottage. ‘Maybe I need to come up with some Italian-style desserts, easy ones. Oh Olly, have I just bitten off more than I can chew with this?’

  ‘Nope, you just have to think creatively. So, who do we know makes good puddings?’

  ‘Nonna,’ they both chimed together.

  ‘Nonn-a,’ Freddie shouted out, copying them, as he raised and waved his little plastic spade triumphantly into the air, whilst Daisy ducked wisely out of the way.

  Lucy wasted no time. Nonna lived in a sheltered accommodation flat in the little town of Rothbury, not far from Lucy’s mum. Though it was a half-hour drive from her cottage, Lucy visited often, so it wasn’t an unusual trip. She made sure to pop into the supermarket on the street corner on the way, picking up a bunch of carnations in bright pinks and yellows to cheer her grandmother up. The old lady wasn’t as active these days, with arthritis riddling her hips and knees, and though she always had a ready smile, she no doubt must have found it hard, having to make her way in the world without Papa by her side over these past ten years. Lucy was certain those four sheltered walls could feel pretty lonely at times.

  Nonna was a proper Newcastle-born Geordie through and through, but she’d been happy to take on the name of Nonna for the grandchildren, giving homage to Papa’s Italian roots. It had stuck, and suited her warm and homely personality. She was always pleased to get a visitor, and her voice came through loud and clear on the intercom at the main doors. ‘Come on up, pet!’ she called cheerily, as Lucy pressed the buzzer to gain entry.

  Lucy was greeted at the door, with Nonna’s grey eyes twinkling and her beam of a smile. ‘Hello, my darling girl, and how are you?’

  ‘I’m fine thanks, Nonna. How’re you doing?’

  ‘Not so bad, not so bad. Knees a bit creaky, but other than that I’ve got nothing to complain about. Ready for a cuppa, pet?’ She began to head a little stiffly towards the small kitchen.

  ‘Oh, let me do it, Nonna. And I’ll pop these flowers in a vase for you too.’

  ‘Okay, my lovely. Thank you, they’re beautiful. Oh, and there’re some custard creams in the tin too,’ she called after her granddaughter.

  Nonna’s kitchen was compact, the units old-fashioned but tidy, with everything in its place. On the wall was an old faded picture of Sorrento, Papa’s home town overlooking the Bay of Naples. There was his large wooden pepper grinder stood on the side, a relic from his restaurant days, and a pottery spoon rest hand-painted with olives and lemons, bought on their last holiday together – a trip back down memory lane for the pair of them. Little memories of Papa and his heritage still singing out to them all.

  As Lucy returned shortly afterwards with a tray of tea and biscuits, Nonna asked, ‘Well then, how’s the new pizza business going? Are you keeping up to Papa’s standards? Come and sit down, pet, and tell me all about it.’ She was always interested in her family’s lives, keen to know what the young ones were up to. Obviously, she had an extra interest in this particular venture of Lucy’s, with it being so close to all their hearts.

  Lucy sat on an ageing, yet comfortable, green floral-patterned sofa, with Nonna propped in her high-backed chair beside her. Papa was there with them both; his dark, kind eyes looking on from his pride-of-place photo on the mantlepiece.

  ‘Yes, of course. Only the best ingredients as always, I insist on making all my own dough … and it has to be Papa’s tomato sauce with tons of garlic.’

  They both smiled. Papa loved to use plenty of garlic. They’d all have garlic breath for days after eating his pizzas and pastas. His ‘Sunday Sauce’ was the stuff of family legend. Long after he’d stopped working in the restaurant and even after a busy week on the buses, he’d still be keen to make it – with rich, tomato-garlic aromas flooding the house.

  ‘Well then,’ Lucy continued, ‘the pizza horsebox has started off pretty good. I’ve been finding my feet these past couple of weeks and I’ve got a few new bookings in now.’ She kept a positive spin on it, happy with her new booking, and not wanting to give Nonna anything to be concerned about.

  ‘Oh, I’m so proud of you, pet. And it’s wonderful that you’re using Papa’s recipe. Ah, how I wish he could be here to see this happen.’ She glanced at his photo on the side with a sigh. ‘Mind you, you know your Papa, he’d be wanting to pitch in and help. Butting in with how to make the best tomato sauce.’

  ‘Hah, yes, wouldn’t he, and I wouldn’t have minded one bit.’

  They both gave a nostalgic smile.

  ‘In fact,’ Lucy moved on to her pressing dilemma, ‘it’s a recipe idea that I’m after, Nonna. You’ve always made the
best cakes. And well, I’ve been asked to cater for pizza and puddings at my next event …’

  ‘Oh, that sounds lovely.’

  ‘Yes, but I haven’t got a clue where to start with the puddings! I thought some cakes might work, and I remembered your special chocolate cake. The one you used to make for our birthday parties sometimes. Remember that one for my eleventh birthday in your garden?’

  Her mind cast back to that happy day with Papa working away at the outside pizza oven he’d made, and Nonna bustling about with cakes and ice-creams in her red-checked apron.

  ‘All my friends came over for pizza and ice cream. It was brilliant, and I could tell Papa loved doing it. Stoking up the wood-fire and feeding the oven with pizza after pizza, whilst singing away to “O Sole Mio”. He used to love that song.’

  Nonna’s smile lifted as Lucy chatted away. ‘Oh yes, I haven’t made one of those cakes for a while now, pet. I think you mean the one made with chocolate sponge and a chocolate mousse topping.’

  ‘That’s it. When I was little you used to load it with chocolate sprinkles too. All my friends used to love it. Is it hard to do? And more importantly, can it be made it for a crowd?’

  ‘Yes, of course. And it’s not that tricky at all. For a bigger cake, just multiply up the ingredients, and you could use a big square tin to bake it in. The mousse is fairly straightforward, then you could just cut it into individual squares.’

  ‘Scrummy. Do you still have the recipe?’

  ‘Oh absolutely. That recipe is so special; it was handed down from Papa’s mother.’

  ‘Was it really? Wow, I didn’t know that. That’s even better. So, it’s Italian-inspired too?’

  ‘Yes, my lovely.’

  ‘Brilliant. You don’t happen to have another easy pudding tucked up your sleeve, do you?’ Lucy ventured. She’d need at least one more dessert option.

 

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