Page 22 of The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

‘These’ll just be a few minutes cooking. So, here’s your ticket and I’ll call out the number as soon as they’re ready. Don’t stray too far.’ Lucy gave a friendly smile as she spoke to the next people in the queue.

‘Thanks, darling.’

The two lads she’d been serving headed off towards the Campervan bar. Her eyes couldn’t help but follow them. Just before she was about to turn away, Jack caught her eye. ‘You okay? All going fine there?’ he mouthed.

‘Yeah, thanks,’ she replied with a nod.

Jack gave her a thumbs up, and then a middle-aged couple approached her counter, talking with Tamsin and obscuring Lucy’s view. She and Jack cracked on again, getting lost in their work for a while. It was proving to be a hectic and thankfully profitable night.

Lucy found herself relaxing into her role this evening, not feeling quite so nervous about getting things wrong, even though it was full-on. The partygoers were a genial bunch, of all ages. It seemed to be a huge family and friends’ event. And the fairground theme had given the party an extra fun dimension. Smells of hotdogs, burgers, candyfloss and toffee apples were tantalisingly filling the air from the other stalls; bringing back memories of years gone by. Pulling her back to nights spent at The Hoppings down in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, when the fair was in town. Nights filled with excitement, treats, whizzy rides and flashing lights. The twopenny-pusher machines that she and her brother, Olly, could happily spend hours on. And Dad winning a soft toy monkey for her – after many attempts – on the Hoopla. She’d named him Mr H. ‘H’ for Hoopla. In fact, she still had him, sat on a shelf in her bedroom at the cottage. Nights when they were still a family unit, many years ago now, when Mum and Dad were still together. Lucy felt a pang of nostalgia.

Chapter 13

Midnight came around in a whirl, the sky was dark yet comforting, cloaking them all with a magical star-lit background, the perfect foil to the flashing fairground lights and music. Jack watched as Frank picked up two of his grandchildren simultaneously, giving them a joyful whizz in his arms. Family, happy moments, the simple things in life, that’s what mattered. He let out a slow breath, refocussed. It would soon be time to start clearing up and packing away. Jack completed an order for two mojitos and, with the partygoers now few and far between, he felt drawn to head across to see Lucy.

‘Hi.’

‘Hey there.’

‘Wow, that was a busy old night, wasn’t it?’

‘Yeah, you can say that again. We’ve been run off our feet. Thank goodness I had Tamsin here to help.’ The young girl looked up, hardly able to suppress a yawn, and went back to scrolling through her phone.

‘Luckily,’ Lucy continued, ‘I’d brought plenty of bases and toppings. Thought I’d gone a bit overboard, to be honest, but I’m glad I did now. I’ve just got a couple of margherita pizzas left and that’s it.’

‘That’s great. Talking of which, could I buy one? I’m absolutely famished,’ Jack said, rubbing his empty stomach.

‘Of course, here. Have one on the house. I’ve already cooked them, as I needed to let the oven cool down. They’d only go to waste otherwise.’

‘Ah, that’s brilliant. I appreciate that. Cheers.’

Lucy popped a pizza into a box for him. Could the ice queen finally be thawing?

Jack took a big bite, unable to wait any longer. ‘Delicious, thank you. So, is there a real Papa?’ He gestured to the logo and the strapline on the side of the horsebox:

All Fired Up. Wood-fired Pizza just like Papa used to make!

‘Yes, there is,’ Lucy paused, looking a little distant. ‘My grandpa. He was Italian. My mum called him Papa, and it kind of stuck for the whole family.’

‘Oh, so you’re part-Italian. Now that explains those gorgeous dark-brown eyes.’

Lucy felt herself blush for a moment. What was it with this Jack and his cheesy one-liners? Of course, it was the kind of charming spiel he came out with all the time.

‘I am indeed. Papa came over from Italy as a child. His family had a restaurant in Newcastle. Many years ago; it’s all gone now … He fell head over heels with Nonna, my grandma, who was a proper Geordie. Hah, they used to love telling the story of how they first met.’ Lucy’s eyes were bright as she remembered the tale.

‘Go on then, you’ll have to tell me now,’ Jack urged. This Papa sounded a real character. ‘Hang on, can I fetch you a drink? It’s gone quiet here now. I think we can get away with a break before packing up. A glass of prosecco, or a soft drink, maybe?’ He recognised that they’d both be driving. He kept in some alcohol-free lagers, which he himself enjoyed now and again at the end of a busy night.

‘Something non-alcohol, yeah, that’d be good,’ answered Lucy.

‘Anything for you?’ he turned to include a rather sullen-looking Tamsin in the offer.

‘Oh, now you’re asking,’ the young girl perked up. ‘I’ve been working like some kind of slave all night. So yeah, I’d love a cocktail. Something strong and sassy.’

The young girl was now batting her eyelids at Jack, and had evidently recovered from her hangover, Lucy mused.

‘Right-o,’ Jack said, somewhat taken back, ‘I’ll fix you both a surprise and then you can tell me that story, Luce. Two tics.’

He whizzed back to the campervan, and with a stir and a shake, some mint, strawberries and crushed ice, soon reappeared with two cocktails in hand. ‘Virgin Mojito for you, Lucy. All the taste, and none of the alcohol. And,’ he turned to Tamsin, ‘a Strawberry Mojito for you – sassy strawberry, with plenty of kick.’