‘I know, I thought it was strange Gran had never mentioned it to me before too,’ Isla said shrugging. ‘Maybe she found it too painful to talk about it until now. I don’t know but either way, I could tell by the look on her face tonight, she’s determined to hold this festival in Clara’s name.’
‘Well, if Bridget’s got a bee in her bonnet then it’ll happen,’ Ben said.
‘I told her I’d put the idea out there and see what you all thought. Personally, I think it’d breathe a bit of life back into Bibury and I, for one, could do with all the help I can get in that department what with the café.’
‘I think it’s a fantastic idea,’ Saralee ventured. ‘I was a secretary at an events management company in Christchurch when I first left school. I picked up plenty of pointers, and I’d love to help organize the festival … that’s if you want some help?’ Her voice trailed off shyly.
Isla’s eyes widened, but before she could reply Carl announced that Bridget could count him in on her plan.
‘I shall spread the word amongst the skinny gals of the modelling world. I think a few of them could do with snaffling some proper food like the wild boar on the back of the truck out there.’ He gestured at the exit and car park beyond, his eyes taking on a glazed look. ‘Grilled over a campfire by a real Southern man.’
‘He’s been watching Bear Grylls again,’ Annie muttered.
For Isla’s part, she was assailed by a mental picture of the Barker’s Creek Hall full of super models and pig hunters; it made her mouth twitch. She remembered her conversation with her gran earlier. ‘Carl, I wondered whether David might get some excitement going amongst the single men at the gym. You mentioned he spends a lot of time there.’
‘Lives there, you mean and oh yes, he’s good at doing that all right.’ Carl pursed his lips. ‘I shall tell him to start putting it about.’
Isla choked back a laugh because he was quite serious.
‘You could call it Project Matchmaker,’ Kris said looking pleased with himself before his forehead creased into a frown. ‘But there is a problem I think. Who will be the Matchmaker?’
‘Ah well, Gran mentioned Sam West.’
‘Who’s Sam West?’ Annie piped up.
‘The dodgy Four Square Santa,’ Isla replied glumly.
Ben smirked putting his pint glass down on the table before patting his knee. ‘Come and sit on my knee, young lady and tell Santa what it is you’re after for Christmas,’ he leered.
‘Ugh don’t! You do that a bit too well!’ Isla laughed. ‘Oh well, at least it’s ages away. Someone else more suitable might turn up between now and next Valentine’s Day.’
‘Believe me; we’re going to need all that time if we’re going to do this thing properly,’ Saralee stated, counting the months off on her fingers. ‘We’ve got just under nine months to put together the biggest festival ever to hit Bibury.’
Isla smiled at her enthusiasm and looked round the table at the excited faces; it would seem that Project Matchmaker had just got the green light.
Isla came out of the toilet cubicle and saw Saralee was at the mirror reapplying her lip gloss. ‘Hi,’ she said squirting soap on her hands. ‘Are you enjoying your night?’
‘Yes thanks, I’m glad you guys could join us and congratulations on the café by the way. I meant to say that earlier, but then we got side-tracked with Project Matchmaker. Good on you. It must be exciting being the owner of your very own business.’
‘Thanks.’ The genuine sentiment touched Isla. ‘It is. It’s scary too but it helps to have Annie on board. And thanks for volunteering your services for the festival. My gran’s going to be so excited when I tell her it’s going full steam ahead. We’re going to need all the help we can get, especially as I’m going to be snowed under for a bit getting the café up and running too.’ Isla still couldn’t quite believe everything that had happened since she’d got home. ‘Ben’s going to talk to his brother about the building work that needs doing. I’ve got my fingers crossed he’s available.’
‘That’s good.’ Saralee put the cap back on her gloss and slid it into her denim jacket pocket.
Isla shook the water from her hands and headed over to the hand dryer. ‘I’m curious as to what brought you to Bibury, Saralee? You said you worked in Christchurch when you left school. Is that where you’re from?’
‘Uh-huh, I grew up just outside of the city and moved in closer when I left school. I went to London for a year, and when I came back, I found it hard to settle down.’
It echoed her journey in a roundabout way, Isla thought, glancing over to where the other girl was leaning against the sink.
‘My boyfriend at the time got work in Greymouth, and I followed him there. I liked the Coast it felt like home. It’s a special part of the world I think. The people are friendly and so laid back. Anyway, he wasn’t so enamoured with the Coast or me because he broke things off between us and went back to Christchurch. I didn’t know what I wanted to do but then the job at Bibury Area School came up, and I decided to give it a go here,’ she explained with a grin. ‘I’m a small-town girl at heart; I love it here.’
‘And then you met Ben.’
‘Yeah, he’s a nice guy. And hey, speaking of nice guy’s, I was surprised to see you here with Callum.’ Her eyes were alight with curiosity.
Isla shrugged. ‘He told me he spends most weekends back in Christchurch, but he’s keen to get to know more people in Bibury. That’s not going to happen if he never ventures out here, so I invited him along tonight.’
‘I asked him to join Ben and I for a drink here not long after I started seeing him, but I think he thought he’d be a third wheel. He’s a catch, great at his job too, the older kids have a real respect for him. Maybe it’s his age; they feel they can relate to him or something.’
‘You’re probably right. When I was at school, the deputy head Miss Seastrand always seemed ancient, and her mission in life was to eradicate all usage of mascara between the hours of nine am and three pm; that and to catch all smokers red-handed. I don’t think she had any interest in our education as such, she’d have been far better off taking on a dictatorship in a small foreign country.’
Saralee giggled. ‘You’re funny. I can see why Ben thinks you’re great.’
Isla flushed, and it wasn’t down to the heat of the hand-dryer. ‘Does he?’
‘Yeah, but then you two go way back.’ It was said without guile.
‘I guess we do. He’s pretty taken with you, I can tell.’
‘Do you think? We’re not serious. He’s a lovely guy, but I don’t see it going much further, to be honest.’ This time Saralee shrugged and smiled. ‘Hey, and that’s okay. He’s not bad in the sack, and Mr Right will come along when he’s good and ready. Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet him at the Matchmaker Festival. In the meantime, we enjoy each other’s company amongst other things.’ She winked. ‘You ready?’
Isla followed the other girl back inside the pub with an open mouth. She was taken aback both by the revelation that the relationship between Saralee and Ben wasn’t serious and the fact she’d just told her the sex was good. For one thing, the thought of the latter made her feel very peculiar and for another Saralee simply did not look like a woman who would say stuff like that. She looked like a children’s television presenter, not somebody who would enjoy casual sex. She shook her head; it was true that you couldn’t judge a book by its cover, she thought.
The courtesy wagon took Annie and Kris home despite Kris having sat on a couple of pints all evening. It wasn’t worth getting behind the wheel, he said, not with the drink driving limits being so low. Isla felt the same way. She’d sat on a lemon, lime & bitters for the last hour but Mick’s pours were generous, and she’d not long had Delilah. She didn’t want to run the risk of not being able to drive her.
The Bibury cop, Tep, was very zealous Ben had told them all as he and Saralee had shrugged into their puffer jackets and set off home on foot. Isla watched them head out the door with a pang
. They’re probably going back to his place for some good sex. Callum distracted her from this line of thought by puffing up chivalrously and offering to walk her home; she didn’t object even though she knew it would be freezing outside. She didn’t object either when he draped an arm around her shoulder as they set off.
They chatted companionably under the street lights. One lone boy racer did a wheelie up ahead of them. ‘Where’s Mr Zealous Cop when you need him?’ Isla muttered as a dog barked in one of the gardens they walked past, causing her to jump.
‘So much for peaceful country living,’ Callum said with a grin.
When they got to her gate, she paused. ‘Well, this is me.’ She hovered, uncertain as to what she was supposed to do next. It had been a long time since she’d been in the predicament of standing at the front gate with a man at the end of the evening.
‘Thanks for inviting me tonight. It was good to get to know my colleagues a bit better, and you were right, Ben’s an okay guy when you get talking to him.’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ The atmosphere turned awkward as Isla’s hand rested on the gate latch. Would he try and kiss her or wouldn’t he? And then his lips were on hers, and his arms snaked around her waist as he pulled her close. He was a nice kisser; she thought losing herself in the sensation. He broke away first, and his voice was hoarse as he said, ‘Goodnight Isla.’
‘Night,’ she said smiling all the way to the front door, knowing he would stand there at the gate until she was safely inside. He was a gentleman. She gave him one last wave before closing the front door and still had a silly grin on her face when she felt something squish beneath her foot. She didn’t have to look to know what it was; she could smell it. The culprit was peering around the kitchen door at the end of the hall and mewling a greeting.
Chapter 23
‘Are you going to sleep with him? You’ve been seeing him for a while now. I slept with Kris the second time I met him,’ Annie said from Delilah’s passenger seat.
‘Trollop!’ Isla grinned. ‘And I will when the time is right.’
‘What was the movie like last night?’
‘It was a laugh, but I laughed more when I told Gran what we’d been to see. She said, and I quote, “She’s a good actress that Sandra Bollock.” I said “it’s Bullock, not Bollock, Gran” and she looked at me and said, “don’t lower the tone Isla, that’s what I said.”’ Isla kept her eyes fastened on the curves of the road ahead of her as Annie chuckled. They were driving into Christchurch for supplies for the café. It was less than a week until showtime. The time had flown by since Ben’s builder brother, Hayden, had come on board and taken things in hand. He’d been fantastic, and she made a note to drop a bottle of something nice into the garage for Ben as a thank you for teeing him up to do the refurb.
It hadn’t been a big job, but she’d have been lost without him. The new chunky wooden counter he’d fitted along with the fireplace looked wonderful. He’d taken all the stress out of organizing a painter too, roping in a guy he could vouch for at short notice. The floor sander he’d booked had done a brilliant, albeit messy, job of bringing the original boards back to life too. She was over the moon with the result. Annie had spent her time devising menus and helping source all the finishing touches of memorabilia and furnishings, as well as cleaning up the dust and debris left behind from the works in progress. She’d refused to take any pay until the café reopened, insisting it was a labour of love. Isla was planning on springing for a luxury weekend getaway for her and Kris as a thank you. It would have to wait until she was up and running and able to cope without her right-hand woman for a few days, though!
Finding the perfect name for the café had been a mission in itself. Isla wanted to put her stamp on it, and there had been a wastepaper basket full of discarded paper with lists of potential names scribbled out. She’d wanted to steer away from mining themes, despite having the photographs of the old days in Bibury and other mining memorabilia on display. She felt that with the Coalminer Tavern already up the road, it would have been overkill. Names like Isla’s Inn and the Coaster’s Café had all been vetoed, and it had been a relief when Isla had looked up from the foodie magazine she was reading and said, ‘What about Nectar?’
‘Nectar,’ Annie repeated. ‘I like it. Where did you get that from?’
‘An advert for honey, see?’ She grinned and showed Annie the picture of the tub of honey proclaiming itself to be nectar from the Gods.
It fitted the delicious food they had in mind to serve in the café, although Annie reckoned it was probably a good thing Noeline was currently on a ship floating about on the Pacific Ocean. She’d most certainly have had something to say about the change of name.
Isla was having a party to say thank you for all the support she’d received, next Friday afternoon. The café would officially open for business the following morning. She’d advertised a free slice with every hot drink purchased as an opening day special, everywhere she could think of, and was hopeful for a successful day. Friday night would also be the big reveal because in the last couple of weeks anyone who wasn’t Annie or a tradesperson hadn’t been allowed through the front door.
Today though, the girls planned on hitting the gourmet food stores once they reached the city followed by a lunch date at Annie’s parents’ home. After lunch, there was a wholefoods shop over the on the Rivers’ side of town that they needed to visit. They planned on having dinner with Carl and David. Isla was looking forward to meeting up with them all. They’d been invited to stay the night and she’d accepted the offer gratefully, not keen to navigate these twisty pass roads in the dark. Kris had opted to stay well away from this girls’ day out, and besides, Annie said he would be grateful for the peace. He had end-of-term school reports to be getting on with.
The girls crossed the road from Piko’s where they’d had a very successful shopping trip sourcing a lot of their specialty ingredients, and Isla placed the box of food onto Delilah’s backseat. A few minutes later the red Mini waited to join the flow of traffic down Kilmore Street.
‘Gosh, it all seems chaotic after Bibury doesn’t it? I can’t believe I used to live here,’ Annie muttered. ‘You’re clear,’ she said looking back over her shoulder.
‘I know, it’s amazing how quickly you can get used to living in the country,’ Isla agreed.
Annie was chief navigator as Isla found herself unable to recognize a lot of the city streets, post-quake. ‘All my old landmarks are gone,’ she said looking sadly over to where the old Saggio di Vino Tuscan-styled building used to be.
They pulled up outside the Rivers’ house just after 1.30. It was a brick home in a tree-lined suburb. Isla glanced around at the neighbourhood. It was well-kept, but the trees without their foliage looked a little forlorn this time of year.
She was distracted by Annie’s mum flinging the front door open as she stood waiting to greet them. Liz was softly padded, cuddly. She was like a watercolour version of Annie, Isla thought, before she was caught up in a hello hug. She’d seen the deep sadness lurking in her soft green eyes, or at least she thought she had. Perhaps Isla was being fanciful because she knew Mrs Rivers had had a daughter that died. The loss of your child wasn’t something Isla could imagine. She knew, though, it would be something you never got over but rather had to learn to live alongside. Annie’s dad, the larger than life Pete dropped the fact he worked in real estate into the conversation straight off the bat, and his wife told him off.
‘He’s always working the room, looking for angles.’
‘It’s all part of the job, Liz, it’s called networking. Besides, this young lady owes me; she pipped me to the post by buying Aunty Noeline’s tearoom before she could list it with me.’ He winked at Isla. ‘And if I don’t mention what I do for a living then I could miss out on a potential client. For all I know, Isla here might have come back from London all cashed up and looking for a city pad investment as well as a business.’
‘Are you looking for a c
ity pad dear?’
‘No, I’m not, the café has stretched me to my limit but thank you anyway.’ Isla’s eyes swung between the pair.
‘There you go, now leave the poor girl alone Pete.’
Pete, Isla could tell by the time she was halfway through her quiche, was a man of opinions. He had opinions on the Christchurch City Council and how they were handling the city’s rebuild. He had opinions on the neighbours’ proposed extension and he had opinions on the cost of living. He also had a good sense of humour, glimpses of which came through when he veered from informing them that the price of lamb in this country was an abomination to tales of his clients’ unreasonable demands, making them all laugh.
Liz fluttered around them all making sure everybody had enough to eat and drink, but Annie seemed a little out of sorts, Isla noticed. She wasn’t tucking into her lunch with much relish given that it was delicious and they hadn’t eaten since they left Bibury. She’d ask her about it later.
The girls helped to clear up and then sat chatting while Liz rustled up coffee in a spacious but dated sitting room, with echoes of the eighties resounding in its pink and grey colour scheme. A framed portrait of two girls on the wall beside the log burner caught Isla’s eye. Annie was instantly recognizable with her red hair hanging in two plaits on either side of a sweet, freckled face. Her two front teeth were missing, and she looked to be around five or six years old. The girl next to her must be Roz, Isla realized. She was a blonde, teenage beauty forever frozen in time. There was obviously a sizable age gap between the sisters but then that made sense given that Carl was a good nine or ten years older than Annie.
Liz came into the room carrying a tray of steaming mugs and followed her gaze.
‘They were very different, your girls,’ Isla said flushing at being caught, but Liz smiled and glanced up at the picture before putting the tray down on the coffee table.
‘They were, chalk and cheese, but Annie absolutely idolized her sister when she was little. She was like her shadow, following her everywhere. Roz never minded,’ she said with a gentle smile.
Sweet Home Summer Page 18
