Page 21 of Mistletoe and Mulled Wine at the Christmas Campervan

‘I’ll just be one minute, ladies,’ he said to the three women gathered at the front of the queue, turning to quickly rinse out some glasses at the small sink behind him. The fizzes were proving popular.

Jack was doing his best to keep up with the prosecco cocktails, G&Ts and bottles of lager and ale that were flying out like there was no tomorrow. This lot were intent on having a good time, making the most of the celebrations and the free bar – courtesy of the bridal couple and her parents.

‘Now then.’ He turned back to the women, giving his trademark grin. He had a great smile with pearly-white teeth and those blue-grey eyes that sparkled expressively. ‘Let me serve you with some more of my fabulous fizz delights.’

The trio of thirty-something ladies grinned back.

‘You can certainly serve me up with some of your delights,’ a false-lashed blonde moved in closer, leaning a more-than-ample chest against the counter top provocatively. The girlish group, who had gone all out with their wedding-day finery, dressed in bodycon pastel-shade lace dresses and bobbing fascinators, giggled raucously.

Jack continued unfazed; he’d got used to a lot of tipsy female attention. It was all part of the bar work, and it was generally pretty good-humoured. ‘So, can I interest you in some lemon drizzle fizz? A burst of berry bramble, or maybe bellini-style bubbles, mango or peach? And there’s always the gold flakes to add some extra sparkle to the fun. Get ready to “Pimp your Proseccos”, ladies.’

‘Ooh, could you make us something with the shaker, honey?’ False-lash lass said, ‘I really want to see you in action with that cocktail thingie. Never mind “Pimp the Prosecco”, what about “Pumping those Pecs”?’

The girls hooted, and even Jack had to laugh at that one. He was glad the ladies were enjoying themselves, and after all, that was what The Cocktail Campervan bar was all about. So, he happily obliged with a fine display of his mixology skills, fixing up a trio of Cosmopolitans. He did indeed like to keep up with some gym work, as well as running and cycling in his spare time, which kept his ‘pecs’ in ample condition.

‘There you go now, ladies. Enjoy! Meet your Craster Cosmopolitan. It has Northumberland vodka, cranberry and lime with my special rosehip garnish.’

False-lash lady took a long, slow sip. ‘Mmmm. That, my friend, is bliss. Oh and the show wasn’t so bad either …’ She gave a wink and off she toddled on four-inch heels, accompanied by her prosecco-sipping posse. Another happy customer. Jack did his best to keep his eye on the ball at the bar; he had a queue of thirsty customers ready to celebrate big time, after all, and ‘Pimp the Prosecco’ was still in full swing. But somehow his focus and his heart didn’t seem to be in it. He couldn’t help but scan the crowd of guests every now and again to see where that creepy guy might have gone.

Was he jealous, was that it? Seeing some bloke making a move on Lucy? But watching Lucy’s face, her expression … it didn’t feel like the usual interaction between server and guest. Jack’s protective streak was going off the scale. What had gone on over there?

He tried to make eye contact with Lucy. See if she was alright. But she wasn’t looking his way at all. Jeez, whatever had happened, it was putting Jack right off his cocktail bar showman stride.

The evening moved on, with Lucy forcing herself to refocus on her work. The festivities came to a close with a fabulous fireworks display, the night sky lit up with bursts of silver, gold and red, accompanied by the popping of corks of some final celebratory champagne. The bride and groom, looking so very happy if slightly dishevelled, came across to thank Jack and then Lucy for the fabulous catering.

‘It’s been such an amazing day,’ Sarah beamed appreciatively, stood at the horsebox counter in her now slightly crumpled gown. ‘Thank you so much for making this all so special for us.’

‘Ah, that’s what we’re here for. You’re both very welcome.’ Lucy felt relieved and happy that it had gone off so well for them.

‘And the food … your pizzas are spot on,’ added Ben, with a big thumbs-up gesture.

‘That’s lovely to hear,’ Lucy gave a grateful smile, ‘and thank you. It’s been a pleasure.’ Well, the appearance of one particular guest aside.

Their thanks made all the hard work which she and Abby had put in so worthwhile. Her confidence in her business was growing with every successful event. A few merry stragglers were still wandering about the gardens as they cleared up, some tottering down the steps from the hall, whilst there was a backing chorus of ‘Farewells’ and ‘Goodnights’ and ‘Thank-yous’, and little peals of laughter echoing across the grounds. Lucy hoped to goodness that Liam wasn’t hanging around – she so wasn’t ready to bump into her ex again.

Jack finally managed to catch up with Lucy under a string of white twinkly bulbs in the garden. ‘Hey, Luce, everything okay?’

‘Oh, yes, good thanks, such a gorgeous event, wasn’t it?’

‘Umm, who was that guy you were talking to before?’ Jack asked with a slight strain to his voice. ‘He seemed kind of … intense. Do you know him?’

‘Ah … no, it was nothing,’ she stammered.

‘Oh …’ Jack stalled. Had he been chatting her up? A surge of envy tightened across Jack’s chest at the thought of someone making moves on her. Or, was it someone she knew or had history with? ‘Well, I hope he wasn’t bothering you?’

‘No, it’s all fine, Jack.’ Lucy clutched her rubbish bag and moved swiftly on with her table clearing, thus closing the conversation.

‘Right, well … As long as you’re okay.’ Jack caught up with her, touching her shoulder gently.

‘Really, I’m fine,’ she bristled.

Jack moved forward to give her a hug but she was off, marching amongst the detritus-filled tables, disappearing into the night.

Back at Cove Cottage, Lucy was wide awake and lying restless under the duvet, Dachshund Daisy by her side. Her thoughts were spinning, and old hurts were resurfacing after a long, confusing day. It was as if Liam had scratched the lid on a buried pot of frustrations and emotions.

Why had she lied to Jack when he’d asked her about the run-in? She hadn’t wanted to keep it a secret, there was nothing – really – to hide. And Lucy knew full well that everything was over between her and her ex. But she did know that seeing him again had brought back a strange mix of feelings. The pain of losing someone you were once so close to was hard to shake off. That sensible anchored life she’d initially had with Liam – the settled routine of it, her old office job, and their very nice detached home – had all come rushing back. And although that life wasn’t right for her – she knew that – it was a stark contrast to the crazy spontaneity she often experienced with Jack. What if he did up sticks and go off adventuring at any moment? She reached out to stroke Daisy’s sleek, soothing fur.

Why do relationships have to be so complicated, Dais? Why can’t men be more like dogs? Either they like you or not … and if they do like you, they stick around.