The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

by Caroline Roberts

  ‘Hmm, let me have a little think, while we have our cup of tea.’

  So, after a happy chat about life in Lucy’s cottage, Daisy’s latest antics (who was now sat at their feet, on the lookout for custard cream crumbs), and Nonna’s gin club – oh yes, apparently the common room turned into a gin parlour every Thursday evening, along with a bingo session – Lucy left with two recipes to try: Nonna’s chocolate extravaganza and a Clementine and Limoncello Cake. Nonna had even donated a half-full bottle of Limoncello from her sideboard for Lucy to take with her.

  With a host of things to do to prepare for this unexpected booking, Lucy soon had to make her goodbyes.

  ‘Ciao, Nonna.’

  ‘Ciao, pet.’

  They’d said this on parting ever since Lucy had been a little girl.

  Lucy left after a heartfelt hug on the threshold to Nonna’s flat, with a promise to return very soon with a slice or two of both cakes by way of thanks. She had a smile on her face and a lift in her heart as she waved up at Nonna’s first-floor window from the little car park below, grateful to have such wonderful support in her life. La famiglia was everything, and today she was particularly thankful to have a keen baker for a grandmother. Her nonna.

  Chapter 19

  Driving down the A1 on his way to the drinks supplier, and stuck behind a tediously slow tractor, Jack found himself thinking about Lucy. He was looking forward to seeing her once again at the function at the end of the week. He was glad he’d been able to help her out and get her the gig. It was good to give someone a step up on the ladder. He’d certainly needed a few pointers when he’d started out with Ruby and his campervan cocktail bar.

  He was also feeling slightly nervous. What had she really thought about him making the move to kiss her on her step? Had she enjoyed the afternoon on the beach as much as he had? Jeez, he hadn’t felt like this since he was a teenager, getting giddy about some girl. What the hell was the matter with him? The traffic was busy, with a trail of lorries stuck behind that tractor up ahead. He’d better concentrate on the road, instead of daydreaming like some love-struck kid. Better to keep her out of his mind altogether, in fact.

  As he neared the wholesaler’s depot, he happened to pass a secondary school. He could see into the sports field where a football match was being played, by what looked like a group of older teenage lads. There was one boy with sandy-blond hair, his arm in the air as he called out for the ball … Jack froze for a second.

  Shit, one of the lads had looked just like his brother Daniel from the back, just for that split second … Of course, it wasn’t, would never be. Jack found his hands were trembling on the steering wheel.

  And there it was again, over eleven years later, that punch-in-the-gut blow of grief. He was jolted back to the past. He remembered the excitement of the two of them going for new football boots. Jack’s first-ever pair, and Daniel’s second – his big brother as always having got there first in life, not that Jack minded, it was just the way it was. His eyes had lit up at the row of boots in the sports shop: blue with black stripes, a vivid yellow pair, green Nikes. The measuring, feet having grown again, now a size 4. The trying on. And of course, he went for the pair just like Daniel’s. He could still picture them now – Adidas, white leather with black stripes, and bright-green laces. And he’d felt like the coolest dude in town heading out on that football pitch for junior league the next Saturday morning. By the end of the match his feet were sore and a blister had formed, but he didn’t mind one bit. New boots needed breaking in, so that didn’t stop him adoring them and him. His big brother.

  When you were a younger brother, you were never on your own. You always had a constant companion … or at least you should, Jack thought with a fresh bolt of grief.

  It had happened when Daniel was just twenty, on a pitch at uni, mid-play. If only they’d known that Daniel had been stalked by a silent, undetected killer. The fallout of that fateful day still haunted Jack. And perhaps it always would.

  Jack carried on driving on autopilot, found himself at the wholesaler’s depot, took the turn into the car park and pulled into a space. Still feeling overwhelmed, he listened to the engine fall silent and looked down at his lap, trying to stop the tears that were misting his eyes. Sniffing, he took out the pad and pen that he kept on Ruby’s dash, mostly used for jotting down supplies he’d need to restock. He paused, and then started to write:

  Smell of cut grass and mud, sweaty football boots.

  Kickabout in the back garden,

  You the shooter, me in goal.

  He shoots, he scores, yay!

  We were always going to be winners, me and you.

  But you lost the big one, Danny,

  You lost at life.

  And that day I lost everything too.

  Am still lost.

  He stopped with the pen hovering over the page, wiping his face as fresh tears blotted the paper.

  If only he and Daniel could kick that ball around again, play some five-a-side for a local team. He took a slow, steadying breath. Had to pull himself back to the present. It was just him in a campervan in a tarmacked cash-and-carry car park. Needed to crack on, get the supplies he needed for the function. Just function himself. Keep going. Move on, move forward.

  But sometimes, it damned well felt like he couldn’t move at all. Floored by these aftershocks of grief. It didn’t matter how long it had been. It was still, would always be, a part of him. Jack had learnt that sometimes you just needed to let that grief take hold, reach its roots down to your soul and then out towards that person you missed so much. He’d bottled it all up for long enough now.

  Maybe it was time to reach out and let someone in too. Break down those walls he’d built around himself for so long.

  Lucy flashed into his mind again with her glossy chocolate waves, her thoughtful eyes. Could she be that someone?

  Chapter 20

  Lucy was in a mist of 00 flour, having spent the last hour binding batches of pizza dough in her industrial-sized mixer, ready to prove and then feed the festive gatherers at the 40th Birthday Bash tomorrow. To-morr-ow, and that was coming around way too fast. The kitchen clock warning her that already it was 7 p.m.

  Now mid-knead and plastered in sticky dough, she heard her mobile phone buzz into life on the side. She shifted sideways to check who was calling. ‘Becky’ was flashing up on the screen. Ah, she’d have to call her back in a while. By the time she’d cleaned her hands up enough to answer, it would have stopped anyhow. And these dough mountains weren’t going to make themselves, no way, José. Get this job out of the way, and then she might find a chance to pour a cuppa and take five mins out. A brief chat with her friend would be a welcome distraction then.

  Just ten minutes later, and the phone sprang to life once more. Lucy had just placed the huge dough ball in a tray to prove, and was about to prop it along with the others near the old-fashioned stove that kept everything toasty warm in there. A pizza production line that filled her galley kitchen. Dashing to the phone, she spotted that it was Becky again – oh, was everything alright? Or better … was her friend maybe wanting to meet up soon for coffee and cake or something? Get tomorrow over with, and she’d be well up for that. Wiping her hands vigorously against her apron, Lucy just managed to pick up in time.

  ‘Hel-lo.’ The phone was propped under Lucy’s chin as she dried her fingers some more.

  ‘Hey-y …’ Becky sounded … different. After all these years, the girls were so in tune, it was scary.

  ‘You okay?’ Luce asked.

  ‘Oh, yeah … but there’s just been something on my mind, hun.’ Becks’ voice sounded troubled down the line. ‘Okay, so you were all excited about this Jack, the bar guy … and well, naturally I looked up the Cocktail Campervan thing. Being nosy, like I am.’

  ‘Okay …’

  ‘Well, I found him on Facebook and Instagram, the Cocktail Campervan pages … Lucy, I saw his picture … I’m sure I know him.’ Her friend’s voice had dip
ped warily.

  Lucy had a prickly feeling that she wasn’t going to like the way this conversation was heading. ‘Where are you going with this, Becks?’

  ‘What’s this guy’s surname?’

  ‘Umm …’ She thought back to their recent conversation on the beach. ‘Anderson, I think. Yes, Jack Anderson.’

  A beat of silence from Becky, then, ‘Oh shit. That’s it … I bloody well knew it. Jack twat-faced bloody Anderson … the guy who only went and wrecked my 21st Birthday with his two-timing antics.’

  ‘Honestly? Are you sure, Becks?’ Lucy felt the blood drain from her cheeks. It all began to fall horribly into place. That Jack.

  Lucy had met him briefly back then, but it was years ago, and yeah, he’d worn his hair really short, and he and Becky had only been on a few dates – time enough for her friend to have fallen head over heels for him, mind you – and time enough for him to have been seeing someone else too. She still remembered that night, at the restaurant bar that had been booked in town, Becky waiting excitedly for her new boyfriend to turn up and meet all her family and friends … except, he never showed. Halfway through the night, some apologetic ducking-out text from him. And then, a week later, news on the Rothbury grapevine that’d he’d been seen with some other girl at a club in Newcastle they often hit.

  ‘Oh shit. Becks. That Jack.’ Lucy felt a bit queasy.

  ‘Yeah, so be careful, Luce. That guy is toxic. Really, you don’t want to touch him with a bargepole.’

  ‘Bloody hell …’ Lucy’s voice drifted, she was still trying to process the news. Friday … tomorrow … the birthday booking he’d helped her secure … How could they not see each other?

  ‘Luce?’

  ‘Bloody hell, we’re both at a birthday do tomorrow. Yikes, that’ll be awkward, won’t it?’

  ‘You’ll be fine. Just play it cool. It’s not like you’re best buddies or anything, is it? And that kiss moment … well, it was all a near-miss. Nothing actually happened, did it. Just put it down to experience.’

  Lucy couldn’t help but notice that Becky had well and truly changed her tune. All excited and egging her on about the near-kiss, and now playing it down like it was nothing at all. Well, her friend was only trying to protect her.

  ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ She now also felt stupid that she’d even entertained any possible romantic notions about Jack. The beach day and the drive were never going to be mentioned ever again.

  Thank god she hadn’t let him into the cottage. Was that his technique? A fun-filled afternoon, a cocktail or two, and then charm his way in with an innocent kiss? It shouldn’t have been a surprise to her, not really. He was still the same smooth-talking charmer that Becks had fallen for. It kind of made sense, all the Jack the Lad banter she’d heard him spouting at his cocktail bar. God, she might have ended up as just another notch on his bedpost. She felt so very naive. Jack might have managed to open up a little chink in her heart on that beach afternoon. But no more, that door was being well and truly closed again.

  Her poor wrecked heart had been through enough this past couple of years. She vowed, there and then, that if she ever, ever looked to have some kind of relationship in the future, it certainly wouldn’t be with someone like Jack Anderson.

  The next morning, Lucy’s fingers were stiff from once again kneading and shaping dough. She was now creating individual balls, enough for the pizza bases for this last-minute birthday event, sixty of the little knuckle-busting monsters in fact, and – truth be told – the dough was taking a real pounding after the bombshell phone call from Becky last night.

  Let it all out, Lucy had thought to herself, channelling her frustration into the production line.

  Yep, she just had to refocus and crack on. Next, she switched on the oven, ready for step two of the day, making two humungous chocolate-cake squares to turn into the Italian chocolate mousse party cake. This needed to be freshly baked and that meant the pressure was on. Thankfully the Clementine and Limoncello cakes were already made, as Nonna had advised that if you made them the day before they’d taste even better.

  And after that, hah, all she had to do … was prepare the cured meats and olives ready for the charcuterie boards, along with green salads and cherry tomatoes. Her To-Do list still looked rather daunting, and she was now down to hours, not days.

  She’d raided both her mum’s and Nonna’s kitchen cupboards, borrowing as many nice platters and dishes as she could, along with a trestle-style table found lurking in her mum’s garage. Online she’d also discovered a fabulous red-checked oilcloth to cover it with (typical Italian restaurant-style, very much like it might have been in Papa’s restaurant of old), and some new olive-wood serving boards to complete the look. With her string of Italian-flag bunting and some extra fairy lights for above the counter area, she hoped the styling would prove attractive too. She really needed to impress and make her mark with this food feast. Fingers crossed.

  To add to her woes, not-so-helpful Tamsin was adamant that she had an ‘unmissable’ party lined up for herself that evening and couldn’t help at All Fired Up. There was no way she’d be working on some ‘poxy pizza van’ all night. So, Lucy had been well and truly left in the lurch, with her anxiety levels cranking up a gear.

  Thankfully, and rather surprisingly, her saviour came in the form of her brother, Olly. Though Becks had offered to step in to help if push came to shove, she knew her close friend had an early start the day after the event with a family wedding to go to on the Saturday, and Lucy really didn’t want to spoil that for her.

  She was letting off steam about it all on the phone earlier with her brother, about to hurtle a dough ball across the room in frustration, when he’d come up trumps and offered, rather marvellously, to stand in and help her out. So, her new event was to be a real Papa’s Pizzas family affair, and whilst she was still in a bit of a spin about seeing Jack after Becky’s revelation, and of course anxious for it to all go off perfectly for her and her guests, a part of her was also looking forward to having Olly’s support and company.

  Cheers to 40 Years!

  You are invited to

  A Surprise Birthday Bash for

  James’s 40th

  Friday 18th June evening

  Cocktails, canapés and capers guaranteed!

  RSVP Nikki and remember SHHH it’s a surprise.

  Chapter 21

  ‘Well, this is it,’ Lucy announced, as the SatNav deposited them at the gates of a large property in the rather exclusive residential area of Darras Hall, not far from Newcastle-upon-Tyne. It looked like they’d be parked up in the block-paved driveway for the evening, which was a bit of a relief, as some of the uneven ground she’d had to drive on so far for events had proven to be a bit of a challenge for the vintage horsebox.

  ‘I’m quite looking forward to this,’ confessed Olly, with a grin.

  ‘What, a night out working your socks off with your big sis?’

  ‘Well, it’s something a bit different. My life seems to consist of electrical circuits, wiring, and potty training at the moment.’

  ‘Hah, well yes, and I bet little Freddie’s having fun with Daisy staying there tonight, at least before he toddles off to bed. Then, she’s bound to find herself a cosy spot with Alice on the sofa.’

  ‘For sure. And as for us two tonight, well, parties are usually pretty fun, aren’t they?’

  ‘You do know you’re here to work …’ Lucy gave him a stern sisterly look.

  ‘Of course, Lulu.’ He slipped back to his childhood name for her. ‘Anyway, it’ll be good to get an insight into your new business. You never know, I might be able to get a word in with Dad on how well you’re doing when we next catch up, too.’

  ‘Ah,’ she groaned, ‘don’t tell me he’s still banging on about how stupid I’ve been, giving up a steady job?’

  ‘That’s about the sum of it, yeah.’

  Lucy sighed, ‘Having a steady job’s not the be all and end all, Olly. Not when it starts
to feel like a noose around your neck.’

  ‘I know, I know. But you know Dad, he’s just worried about you really.’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose. Well, let’s get this party started, hey. I’d better turn things around with All Fired Up and show him how good a decision it was.’

  As the gates opened before them, no doubt by some fancy remote system, revealing a large garden and bungalow, Lucy concentrated on reversing the horsebox carefully into position on the driveway. Jack wasn’t there as yet, Lucy noted – her heart rate going up a notch just thinking about how annoyed and disappointed she was at having been taken in by him – but he probably wouldn’t be long. At least it’d give her a chance to get set up, get her head in the right place before having to face him. The catering was the most important thing for her this evening, anyhow, not concerning herself with that player of a barman.

  She took a slow breath. ‘Ah, well, here we go, Ol. We’re on. Let’s get All Fired Up!’ Lucy turned off the engine, took a deep breath as she drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, and then stepped down out of the horsebox.

  The door to the large detached bungalow opened to reveal a smiley middle-aged blonde. ‘Oh, you must be Lucy. Hello. Fabulous that you’re here. Thank heavens, after all that palaver earlier in the week. Thanks so much for stepping into the gap.’

  ‘No worries, it’s no problem at all. Great to have the opportunity, actually,’ Lucy smiled. ‘Nice to meet you, Nikki. Oh, and this is my brother, Olly, who’s helping me tonight.’

  Olly joined them at the doorstep, and they shook hands.

  Little did the host know that he’d never done an event like this before. Lucy was determined to keep her nerve and professionalism, even if she was quaking a little inside. Olly was sensible and sociable. The pair of them just had to work hard and make sure it all went smoothly. At least Lucy was pretty certain that the food she was offering was really good, and that was the main thing.