The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

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The Seaside Cocktail Campervan Page 16

by Caroline Roberts


  They then heard Jack call out, ‘Can I interest you in a Moo Moo cocktail?’ whilst sporting a cheeky grin, as the furry ‘cow’ waddled past en route to the party barn.

  There was music and merriment, their meat feast and garlic mushroom pizzas were going down particularly well, and the two girls kept up with demand, just! Where anyone did have a short wait, the guests were more than happy to stand chatting away with a drink from Jack’s campervan to hand.

  There was a bit of a lull serving-wise as the dancing got going, with a traditional barn dance starting up. Many of the youngsters didn’t have a clue how the steps were done but still joined in regardless, along with the cow in costume. Blimey, they’d be hot in there, Lucy mused, feeling their sweaty pain. There was much laughter, and good-natured jostling on the dancefloor. Lucy took a little time out to let Daisy, who was with her this evening, out for a quick wander on her lead and a pee stop – this time well away from Jack’s campervan and signage! The dachshund sniffed the air with great interest near the hog roast van, and then again beside the cowsheds. The music and noise didn’t bother her, she was generally a confident little dog, and a few guests stopped and cooed, bending down to give her a pat and in one case a full tummy tickle, which she was very happy about. And then, when a corner of roasted pork roll got tossed her way, well, she was in doggie heaven.

  Lucy popped Daisy back into her dog bed in the rear of the truck, ensuring the windows were open wide, just as she spotted the queue that was building by the horsebox.

  ‘Sorry, Luce, I need a hand here,’ Abby called out, looking decidedly hot and flustered.

  Blimey, where had all those people come from? Lucy dashed back over, washed her hands and dived back in to help.

  The party was in full swing. There was much giggling as a singalong started up and a conga began snaking its way around the yard. The bottom half of the cow turned up for a pizza, his top half exposed in a plain white T, his trousers hilarious black-and-white-patched furry fleece. The top half of the cow then pulled off his head and sat down opposite, placing himself beside Jack’s bar with a pint.

  ‘Bloody brilliant night, this,’ the young lad at their pizza-stand commented. He had dark hair, ruffled rakishly from his costume wearing.

  ‘Yeah, it’s great here. Love the costume by the way,’ Lucy heard Abby say. She was so much chattier with the customers than the surly Tamsin.

  ‘Hah, yes, me and Josh thought we’d go for it. A bit of fun. We’re Alan’s nephews, thought it’d make him smile on his birthday. Bloody hot stuck inside there all night, mind.’

  The young man ordered a meat feast with extra mushrooms. Abby loaded it up with sauce and toppings and Lucy took it on her wooden board, ready to place in the oven. She could certainly empathise with the sweltering cow in costume, having been stuck by a 400-degree oven on a balmy June night. She could hear Abby and Mr Cow Trousers talking away as he waited for his pizza to cook. They seemed to have hit it off, and Lucy couldn’t help but give a smile at that.

  After a star-spangled fireworks display, the rockets soaring up into the navy twilight sky with ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s sounding from the guests as they gasped at the flashes of colour, it was all too soon time to pack up. The hosts came across to thank Lucy and Abby, saying how delicious their food had been. Lucy felt proud that her pizza venture was finally coming together, and in turn thanked Abby for her fabulous help. She had a feeling this was the first night of many more with her new partner in crime.

  With the oven cooling, Lucy went to the back of her Jeep to pop in one of the now empty storage boxes. Oh, the boot was slightly ajar … Had she closed it properly after taking Daisy for her brief walk earlier in the evening? Daisy … Lucy felt her heart race as she peered in.

  ‘You okay, Daisy?’ She raised the tailgate fully, a horrid lump lodging in her throat as she looked in to find the dog’s bed empty. She scanned the rear space again. Had the little dog just shifted into a corner or something? But no. Lucy raced around to check the back passenger seats, then the front … nothing. Empty. No Daisy. Oh my god, where the hell was she? Could she have been stolen? Escaped? Had some drunken idiot opened the vehicle by accident … or on purpose? Had she not quite shut the hatch down properly herself?

  She checked it all again, calling out, ‘Daisy! Come on, girl!’ She might well be close by. But even with the boot open, it would be unusual for her to leave the safety and familiarity of her cosy bed.

  But shit, yes, there had been the fireworks display towards the end of the celebrations. Her little dog hated fireworks. Poor Daisy, if Lucy had known about them, she would never have brought her. She’d have made other arrangements for her tonight. Where on earth was she?

  ‘Daisy? Daisy!’ Lucy’s voice was tight, high-pitched with fear.

  She could be hiding. She could be anywhere. It was a farm, for goodness sake. She could have been trampled by cows, attacked by pigs, marauding cockerels … marauding party people? Lucy felt panic rise, prickly and chilling within.

  ‘Are you alright, Luce?’ It was Jack, striding across and looking concerned. ‘What’s Diva Daisy up to now?’

  ‘I-I don’t know. She was here before … but she’s gone.’ Lucy felt the sting of tears welling up in her eyes.

  ‘Okay, when did you last see her?’

  ‘About an hour ago. I took her for a quick walk. She seemed fine, but … I don’t know if I left the boot open, or what? … She’s vanished.’

  ‘She’ll not be far away. Don’t worry, we’ll find her. Let’s get looking.’

  Abby joined the hunt immediately too. A search party began with word spreading amongst the remaining revellers.

  Ah … not only had Lucy lost her dog, but she’d managed to put all the guests out too. Lucy cursed herself.

  But there was so much dangerous stuff on a farm, places for a small dog to get stuck in … lost in. Had she sniffed out a rabbit, got stuck in a burrow? Oh, bloody hell, why had she even brought her here? She might have been lonely back home, bored and in need of a wee, but at least she wouldn’t be missing.

  Right, it was no good fretting. It was time to get on and get searching. Lucy got on her hands and knees and looked under the Jeep, then all around and under the horsebox – inside the horsebox. Thank god, the little dog couldn’t climb as high as the oven.

  Food … the hog roast van, that could be a place to check … But Jack was already there and on the case. Adam, the hog roast guy, hadn’t seen a dog at all. Mind you, a dachshund on a mission could very well slink purposefully by, unnoticed.

  To add to the mix, heavy drops of rain starting plopping down. Her clothes were getting soaked, but she didn’t care – she had to keep searching. It was then she spotted Jack, white shirt now clinging to his back, climbing a farm gate and heading out to the fields.

  Half an hour later, with all the barns and outbuildings checked, and the hosts involved in the search as well as friends and family from the party, Lucy began to feel distraught.

  ‘She’ll turn up, pet,’ the farmer’s wife, Pat, soothed. ‘Here, why don’t I make you a nice cup of tea and then we’ll go look again, and catch up with the others?’ They were stood out in the yard near the farmhouse’s porch entrance, the rain shower now easing, but a late-evening breeze ruffled by, all too chilling against Lucy’s skin. The birthday balloons were now wilting slightly.

  ‘I’m sorry … I need to keep going. She means everything to me.’

  Memories flooded back of the two of them: Lucy still so raw from the split with Liam and hugging the tear-stained soggy-furred creature so close; Daisy digging up Lucy’s newly-planted flower bed at the cottage this springtime – it had looked like a scene from some floral great escape, but she couldn’t help but laugh.

  Lucy found her eyes were misting. Where was she? She’d go back and re-check the Jeep. That would be Daisy’s safe place. She might have trailed back, perhaps with an injury. Lucy’s heart sank just thinking about it.

  Then came a sh
out from inside the farmhouse.

  ‘I’ve found her!’ It was Jack’s voice, jubilant.

  He’d checked with Pat if it was alright to go on inside and take a look, just in case, working on a hunch that a scared and comfort-seeking sausage dog might look for a cosy sofa to curl up on, away from the party and the noisy fireworks going on outside. Jack had noticed that the farmhouse’s door had been left open all evening for access to the porch-based bathroom.

  Lucy was running towards the house. ‘Oh, thank god. Is she alright?’ She was still so scared.

  Out Jack came, shirt sodden, hair all damp, bearing a still curled-up, slightly affronted-looking Daisy in his arms. ‘She was snoozing on the sofa.’

  ‘Oh, Daisy. Thank heavens you’re safe …’ Lucy was so relieved. But then paused, addressing Pat and Alan who were now beside her, realising the finale of their special night had been spent hunting for a ‘missing’ sausage dog with a penchant for a cosy sofa. ‘Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry for wasting all your time … She’s been safe inside all the while …’

  ‘It’s not a problem, lassie. All’s well that ends well. I’m just glad we’ve found her. And we’ve had a lovely evening, all of us,’ said Pat kindly.

  ‘It’s been a grand party, aye.’ Mr Fifty Farmer stood smiling at his wife’s side. ‘Those pizzas were downright delicious. Went down a real treat.’

  ‘Thank you. Oh, and thank you all for helping to look for her.’ Lucy turned to address the gathering. ‘Right, well I’d better take Daisy back to the truck, put her away safely, and finish clearing up.’ She suddenly felt a little awkward after all the drama.

  Relief flooded through Lucy as she walked across to Jack then, who still had the little dog in his arms. ‘Oh Jack, thank you so much for finding her.’ Despite her embarrassment, she felt so happy to have her precious dog back safe and sound. He passed the soft, warm creature across into Lucy’s open arms, where Daisy received the biggest hug ever.

  Once the dog was back safely in her pet bed, and with the boot of the vehicle firmly closed and checked, Lucy couldn’t help but dash across to where Jack was packing away his fold-up chairs, outside of Ruby. He’d really gone the extra mile, searching high and low for the little dog. ‘Thanks again,’ she gushed, suddenly overcome with emotion. And as he stood tall, she couldn’t help but give him a big hug too.

  It felt a little surprising and yet so very natural as they became wrapped in each other’s arms, holding tight for a few seconds, the rise and fall of their breath slowing together. The rest of the partygoers seemed to recede for a few moments. Just the two of them stood in the warm glow of campervan Ruby’s stage-bulb lights. And even more natural was the kiss that followed, brief but tender. The little dog that had pulled them apart just two weeks ago, had very much brought them together tonight.

  For a few precious moments they stayed like that, lips to lips, mouth to soft, giving mouth. Then, Lucy pulled back, as if realising what was happening. ‘Oh.’ The alarm bells ringing very loudly in her head.

  ‘Oh …’ Jack echoed, adding, ‘Well, that was nice.’

  ‘Yes, well, it was just to say thank you,’ Lucy stammered awkwardly, coming back down to earth. ‘I-I’d better get packed up, sorted out … ready to head home,’ she blurted out, already dashing off. Leaving Jack bemused but smiling broadly.

  Chapter 26

  For all her good intentions of steering clear of anything vaguely romantic with Jack, she’d only gone and bloody well kissed him! What had she been thinking? Well, she hadn’t, had she? She’d just been too relieved about finding Daisy, that was it. She’d been overcome with emotion. But why, almost eight hours after that midnight kiss, was she still thinking about him … and about how nice it had felt? To be in a man’s arms again, after such a long, and yes, she had to admit it, sometimes lonely time.

  He’d smelt gorgeous too, all fresh citrussy aftershave with just a hint of male end-of-a-work-night sweat. It was quite a heady combination up close, when factored with a hug that melted her to him.

  Well, it wasn’t going to happen again, that was for sure. Her guard was going straight back up. She’d get on with life, go visit her mum like she’d promised to today, and catch up on the family news over a bite of lunch and a good old natter. Perhaps Nonna might come along too. She could easily pick her up on her way through to the little town.

  Sofia, Lucy’s mum, had never remarried. She’d had a couple of on–off relationships since Lucy’s father, but nothing that had lasted. Her parents had split up when Lucy was fourteen, but she’d told Lucy several years later that she was far happier and felt much more settled on her own. She’d been there, done that and got the T-shirt with Lucy’s dad, as well as having two wonderful children to show for it.

  When Lucy was going through a particularly bad patch with Liam, Sofia had warned that romance wasn’t all it was geared up to be. Hah, maybe Lucy was destined to go the same way. To live a simple yet contented life with her little dog, walking on the beach, running her own catering business, seeing her friends and family, with no ties. That was a good life, a purposeful life.

  Yet, why did the life she was carving out for herself suddenly feel a bit empty of late? And why, last night, lying in her bed alone, had she allowed her thoughts to imagine Jack lying there beside her, tracing firm but gentle hands all over her body. Bloody hell, she really did need to buck up and back off.

  She popped on her sandshoes and leapt into the Jeep with Daisy, promising herself not to dwell any longer on this crazy nonsense.

  Settled outside with Nonna, Mum, and a large pot of tea in Sofia’s sheltered back garden, life seemed much simpler.

  Nonna was desperate to know all the details about the party with the Italian cakes, and Lucy was more than happy to chat. Neither Mum nor Nonna knew anything about Jack, and that was exactly how she intended it to stay.

  ‘So, for the Clementine and Limoncello, you made the orange zest crème fraiche too, yes?’

  ‘Of course, Nonna. And it went down a treat. Lots of happy customers, thanks to you.’

  ‘Perfect, pet. Oh, I remember eating that for the first time, sat outside a little restaurant with your Papa in Sorrento. We’d gone over for a holiday. He so wanted to show me his birthplace, his family ties.’ Nonna smiled nostalgically. ‘Ah, I still can see that sea view. Beautiful. And the sea and sky over there. So vivid, such a deep, deep blue. And so hot, not at all like our North-East.’

  ‘It sounds perfect.’ Lucy was caught up in the description, picturing her grandparents there. The pair of them so happy. They didn’t have a lavish lifestyle at home by any means, yet it was always one full of warmth and love. A holiday abroad would have been extra special.

  ‘Oh, and the cake – summer sunshine on a plate!’ Nonna continued her reminiscing. ‘I loved it so much, and Papa knew the café owner’s family, so they wrote the recipe down for me. I’ve been making it ever since.’

  ‘Well, we’re glad of that, aren’t we, Lucy,’ Sofia smiled.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Thinking of her grandparents, their marriage of Newcastle and Italy made Lucy smile. Two very different young lives, and yet the love they shared, and the life they had lived together, became one. Nonna and Papa’s marriage had been good and solid – maybe not every relationship was doomed.

  ‘Do you remember when we went across, Lucy? That trip to Naples and Sorrento?’ Mum took a sip of tea.

  ‘Yeah, course I do. It was wonderful. The food, the people, they were all so friendly. And Pompeii, how weird, yet amazing was that!’ All those people’s lives set in stone. Mothers, babies, schools, shops, brothels, it had totally fascinated her and her brother. With Mount Vesuvius still smoking ominously in the distance.

  ‘Oh yes, you ghoulish pair were intrigued by all that. It was like history coming to life before our eyes. Interesting, mind.’

  They’d had a five-night stay, not long before Dad had finally left. A holiday for patching up, that had apparently only showed more ripped
seams. It had still been good, her parents keeping their problems under cover as they day-tripped as a family and sipped white wine and Fanta Orange in little Neapolitan cafés, and ate pasta and pizza under warm starlit skies.

  They chatted some more, the three generations sat in a Northumberland garden, warmed by Mediterranean memories.

  Italy had obviously crept into Lucy’s heart and stayed there. Perhaps that was why, when life folded for her, when reality became all too much, her dreams took her to Papa and his pizzeria.

  Chapter 27

  Jack was out on the open road with Ruby, needing to clear his head. She’d kissed him. She’d only gone and kissed him. Now he knew how Lucy’s kiss felt, he was having trouble getting her out of his mind.

  He’d hoped she might have called that morning. Kept checking his phone, just in case. But no, not even a message. Should he call her? Just on the pretext of checking that Daisy was alright? Of course, the little dog would be – she’d been sat on a cosy sofa all evening, while they were out in the mud and rain looking for her. He sighed.

  Jack soon reached the coast, taking in that first glimpse of sea view; blue-grey summer steel on the horizon. And then Bamburgh Castle, grand and dominant, all pink-beige stone and battlements. He never tired of seeing it, of how small it made him feel and his problems with it; it was always an awesome sight.

  The little seaside village was bustling today, cars parked up and holiday-makers meandering with dogs and children, holding tasty ice creams, pies and goodies from the village butchers and bakery. The cricket pitch beneath the towering castle walls was a draw for picnickers and people fancying a game of kickabout.

  Jack kept on going, wanting space and air. The sea-salt freshness blasting his face as he drove along with his windows wound down. The coastal road skirting the dunes now, with glimpses of the sea here and there; the Farne Islands, and their lighthouse a shadow on the horizon, way off in the distance. The beach beside him stretched for three miles, sandy bays and arcs, rocks and rolling waves. Even with day trippers and locals piling out from parked cars, it never got too busy there. But Jack kept on. He knew where he was heading now, where his soul was drawing him.

 

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