Page 10 of The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

‘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.

There was no ‘please’ from either of them.