by Fay Keenan
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Jonathan’s voice brought Caroline sharply down to earth. With half a mouthful still of the most exquisite wild mushrooms she’d ever tasted, she swallowed hastily. This triggered off the inevitable coughing fit and she was grateful for the tumbler of water that Gino handed her. Gulping down the water, she at last spoke.
‘No worries. We’re just trying out some potential recipes for the opening night. Gino’s got some brilliant ideas and you really need to taste these scallops.’
‘I’m sure he has,’ Jonathan replied lightly. ‘After all, he came highly recommended. May I?’ He picked up the other half of the scallop in his fingers and popped it into his mouth. ‘A little over cooked, I think, but beautiful flavours.’ After licking his fingers, he wiped them on the white starched napkin next to the plate.
‘I’ll make a note of that,’ Gino said.
‘Come in at the start of next week and we’ll talk menus,’ Caroline said, trying to regain the upper hand.
‘Thank you,’ Gino said, shaking hands with them both. I’ve got some amazing ideas for an Italian/Somerset fusion menu to start us off. I can’t wait to show you.’
Caroline felt a real surge of excitement as Gino left. She turned to Jonathan. ‘You made a brilliant choice by hiring him,’ she said warmly. ‘He’s made a fantastic impression and he’s got buckets of confidence and even more ideas.’
Jonathan seemed flattered by Caroline’s enthusiasm. ‘Thanks. He seems like something special. I think, with his skills and your experience, this place is going to have a really great start.’ He looked around the restaurant, and, drawn to the newly hung wall of pictures, wandered over for a closer look. ‘These look fantastic,’ he said. The one of himself, Jack and Matthew caught his eye, and Caroline noticed a strange expression crossing his usually carefully composed features. ‘That’s the one you took, isn’t it?’
‘Do you like it?’ Caroline asked, approaching him once more.
Jonathan turned briefly from the wall to look at her. ‘It’s great. I never thought…’ he trailed off, seeming to pull himself together. ‘Never mind. But there’s one missing.’
‘No,’ Caroline said. ‘I’ve hung them all.’
‘This one hasn’t been taken yet, but we must do it.’
‘What do you mean?’
Jonathan smiled down at her. ‘When the place officially opens we need to get a shot of you outside the building.’
Caroline laughed. ‘I can live without that! But how about one of the whole team on opening night? That would be a really nice one to put alongside the others.’
‘Fair enough,’ Jonathan said. ‘I’ll get the marketing department onto it.’ He looked back at the wall again, drawn to the same photo he was looking at before. ‘Can you email me that one?’ he asked. ‘I think Dad would really like a copy for his mantelpiece.’
‘Sure,’ Caroline said. She was flattered to be asked but also charmed by Jonathan’s obvious reaction to the photo. ‘And perhaps you can bring him down for a meal when we open.’
‘He’d love that,’ Jonathan said.
As Jonathan left, Caroline looked around. For the first time since she’d made the move to Little Somerby three weeks ago, she actually felt as though she was in control. She only hoped they’d have no hiccups in the run up to opening. Seeing that there was still a mouthful or two of the scallop and mushroom dishes left, she finished them off and then went to wash up the plates. The excitement about a new project was starting to rise and she could hardly wait for opening night.
6
In the fortnight that followed, Caroline enjoyed working with Gino to come up with some truly special dishes for the restaurant to open with. While she had to rein in one or two of his wilder ideas (the offal suggestions he’d come up with were definitely dishes to leave for a year or two), she was excited by his risk taking. Her days were spent chasing up the details so that the restaurant could hit the ground running. Menus were created for the first two week cycle; the cutlery and crockery were delivered. Caroline had decided on very simple white tableware, the vogue in dining at the moment seemed to be to serve everything on slate boards, but having experienced first hand the difficulties of eating gravy and jus from a plate with no edges, not to mention garden peas, she’d discounted that idea firmly. The Cider Kitchen was going to be known for its excellent, creative and original food; not the weirdness of its plates. It was like putting the pieces of a jigsaw together and gradually things started to take shape.
Anna was a regular visitor in the early evenings since The Cider Kitchen was just about the right distance from Cowslip Barn to walk Ellie there and back before bedtime. Once she’d closed the tea shop, she’d pick up Ellie from nursery, give her an early tea and then walk the four year old across the orchard to see her aunt. She was impressed by the rapid changes that Caroline had instigated.
‘This place looks amazing!’ she said as she walked through the door on a particularly warm early June evening. ‘I can’t believe how far it’s come in the weeks that you’ve been here.’ She looked up at the ceiling where the wrought iron chandeliers made by a local artisan blacksmith hung elegantly. ‘You were so right about those lights.’
Caroline smiled. ‘It’s just a question of working with the natural light and then enhancing it a bit,’ she said. ‘There’s so much glass in this building anyway.’
‘You always had a knack for making things look their best,’ Anna said, turning around to get the full impression of the floor of the restaurant now the tables and chairs were in place. ‘I remember how good you were at choosing the right colours for the house that James and I bought in Liphook. We couldn’t have done it without you.’
‘Oh, rubbish,’ Caroline said to hide how touched she was. ‘You’d have got there in the end. But James did have naff taste, didn’t he?’
‘No kidding!’ Anna snorted. ‘You definitely inherited all of the good taste genes in the family.’
‘Except for when he chose you,’ Caroline said. ‘But anyway. Come and have some cake upstairs. I went to Bird’s bakery in the village this morning and I couldn’t come away without a load of their vanilla slices. I know you’re the queen of cakes around here, but I have to say, they looked very good.’
‘They are pretty amazing,’ Anna agreed. ‘All of the bread I use in the tea shop comes from there.’
Together, they headed up to Caroline’s flat. When they were both settled on her new sofa with coffee and pastries and Ellie was happily munching her way through the biggest vanilla slice Anna had ever seen, and gently teasing the kittens with a catnip scented toy, conversation turned to village life.
‘So how are you finding living in the sticks?’ Anna asked. ‘Have you finally stopped rushing everywhere?’
Caroline laughed. ‘It took a bit of getting used to and the nights are really dark, but I think I’m going to like it here.’
‘That’s just as well, since I’ve bought you a ticket for a hoedown at the rugby club tomorrow night.’
‘Er… what?’ Caroline’s cake fork froze halfway to her lips. ‘Is that the kind of thing that passes for a good time around here?’
‘Well, there’s live music, cider and a bucking bronco, so it ought to be a good laugh,’ Anna said, smiling broadly at Caroline’s bemused expression. ‘And since you don’t officially open this place until next Saturday, I thought it would do you good to get out and mingle with the locals.’
‘I could just go down the pub and drop off a few leaflets,’ Caroline said cautiously.
‘Oh, come on, it’ll be a laugh. Charlotte and Simon are going, and it’ll be a nice, informal way to put your face out there and drum up a few customers for the restaurant.’
Caroline took another bite of her cake before she answered. ‘OK then,’ she said. ‘But I’m holding you responsible if I’m picking hay out of my knickers for the next fortnight!’
‘Deal. Come over to the house for about seven on Saturday, and we’ll walk from the
re.’
As Anna picked up Ellie’s discarded cake plate and their coffee cups, Caroline conceded that there really was no saying no to her on occasion; especially with Ellie in tow. She wondered what she’d let herself in for.
7
‘Remind me again why I agreed to this?’ Caroline muttered the following evening as she hurried to keep up with Anna. The party included Charlotte and her husband Simon and a couple of Anna’s friends from the nursery pickup and their children, and the destination was a rather damp looking marquee in the middle of one of the village rugby pitches. The mist had been rolling in off the Mendip Hills all day, and there was a dampness in the air that was at odds with the late spring season. Caroline was still getting used to West Country weather, which, even by British standards, was unpredictable, and she could feel the dew from the grass seeping through her Converse trainers as she walked.
‘It’ll be a laugh,’ Anna replied, holding Ellie’s hand. ‘Besides, there’ll be enough cider to keep everyone warm and you’ll be dancing your socks off by the end of the night.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ Caroline said, taking Ellie’s other hand.
Charlotte, who was keeping the drizzle off her curly red hair with a battered trilby, glanced back at Caroline. ‘Not to mention the bucking bronco,’ she said mischievously. ‘Which is bound to look more attractive after a few pints!’
Caroline laughed. Despite the damp weather, Charlotte’s irrepressible sense of fun was infectious, although she was absolutely certain she’d be going nowhere near the bucking bronco, which was a large mechanical bull set inside what looked like a bouncy castle. The kids, and later the more inebriated adults, could have that one; she didn’t fancy losing her balance or her dignity.
As they approached the marquee they could hear the sound of the first band warming up for their set. A pleasing mix of blues and folk, the music went perfectly with the enticing smell of the hog roast and the sight of the bar staff already pulling pints of Carter’s Cider. Caroline looked around the crowded marquee. She smiled at a couple in their mid sixties, who were sipping pints of cider and swaying to the beat of the band, and noticed Anna’s parents standing next to them, also cradling plastic pint glasses of Carter’s Gold, their bestselling variety. Straw bales were scattered around the inside of the marquee, and there were a few optimistically positioned in the open near to where the hog roast was situated. A couple of hardy souls were ignoring the Somerset ‘mizzle’, that odd combination of mist and rain that is so prevalent in these parts, and chomping on the first servings from the spit. Caroline’s stomach rumbled at the aroma. She resolved to have a slice or two of the hog roast later; certainly before she’d had too many ciders, the first of which Jonathan was now bringing over to her in a pint glass.
‘Hi,’ he said, handing her the glass. ‘Didn’t know you were coming to this.’
Caroline was flattered by his obvious pleasure at seeing her. She liked him when he was caught on the hop; somehow it seemed to balance out those occasions when his charm was just that little bit too practised. ‘I thought I’d come along and see what the village does for fun.’
Jonathan laughed. ‘Well, it’s not all straw bales and hog roasts, but we do tend to do this sort of thing quite well.’ He was wearing a blue and black checked shirt over a black t-shirt and jeans and Caroline was amused to notice the Carter’s Cider logo embroidered on the pocket of the shirt. It wasn’t Jonathan’s usual style.
‘Are you on duty tonight?’ Caroline asked, gesturing to the logo.
‘Not exactly, but they were a bit short behind the bar so I said I’d step in for an hour before the rest of the volunteers get here.’ He glanced back to the bar. ‘Speaking of which, I should probably get on with it.’
‘Are you any good at pulling pints?’ Caroline asked as he turned back to where the makeshift bar was.
‘Goes with the territory!’ Jonathan called over his shoulder.
‘I’ll bear that in mind if we’re short-staffed at the restaurant,’ Caroline smiled. She watched Jonathan lope back to the bar, head and shoulders above most people in the marquee.
‘Typical that,’ Charlotte snorted.
‘What?’ Caroline turned to where Charlotte was standing, Simon having shot off to the bar the minute they got to the marquee.
‘Mr Charming brings you a pint but forgets about the rest of us.’ Charlotte’s eyes were sparkling with mischief. ‘Anna said he’s got a bit of a thing for you.’
Caroline’s face grew warm. ‘Rubbish,’ she said, sipping her pint, trying to forget the night of the wedding. ‘He’s just being friendly. Probably doesn’t want me to bring the restaurant into disrepute before it’s opened. Besides, he’s my boss.’
‘I’d make that your first and last pint, then!’ Charlotte said, taking her own pint of Gold from a returning Simon. ‘Or you’ll end up being posted on Facebook astride that bucking bronco.’
‘Not a chance!’ Caroline said.
‘I quite fancy a go later,’ Charlotte said. ‘Although we’ll be lucky if we get near it, the amount of kids who are queuing up.’ There was already a not insubstantial queue of children and teenagers all waiting to pay their fifty pence to see how long they could hang on to the mechanical bull.
‘I wouldn’t risk it,’ Simon said, looking fondly at his wife. ‘Your shoulder’s only just recovered from the last time you dislocated it. It would be just like you to fall and pop it back out again.’
‘Spoilsport,’ Charlotte replied. ‘Although I see Evan’s already queuing up with Ellie and Anna.’
‘She’s not thinking about going on there is she?’ Caroline said unguardedly. Kicking herself, she turned back to see Charlotte’s curious look. ‘I mean… she’s been complaining about putting her back out again. She shouldn’t risk it.’ Caroline wasn’t quite sure if Anna had told Charlotte her new baby news yet.
‘She’s far too sensible for that,’ Charlotte said, seemingly accepting Caroline’s explanation. ‘But Ellie loves a bit of excitement, so I’m sure she’ll have a go. You might have to go on with her.’
‘I’m sure Merry will be game,’ Caroline said.
‘Oh, she’s not coming tonight,’ Charlotte replied. ‘Cried off with some revision crisis, Anna says.’
Caroline was surprised. Meredith was usually first in line at a village event; if nothing else, it was a chance to hang out with friends without having Matthew nagging at her. Then she remembered; poor Meredith was in the midst of GCSE exams.
A little later, and Caroline was beginning to feel the effects of the cider. It felt good to get out and to be at the heart of the community she was starting to call home. She didn’t know how much time she’d have once the restaurant opened to go to events like this, so she tried to make the most of it while she could.
Jonathan was still busy pulling pints behind the bar, although Mathew had offered to take over from him, and had ended up serving too. It felt vaguely incongruous to see the Managing Directors of the cider farm assuming the roles of bartenders for the night, but they seemed to be enjoying it. Caroline found that she was looking Jonathan’s way a little more than was professional; clocking the conversations he was having, the smiles he was giving, and finding herself looking away if he glanced in her direction. She felt a bit like a fourteen year old at a school disco.
‘Aunty Caroline!’ Ellie, up past her bedtime and loving every minute of it, caught hold of Caroline’s free hand. ‘Come and have a go on the cow with me! Mummy says I’m too little to go by myself, but you can come with me, can’t you?’
‘Well…’ Caroline started. The last thing she wanted was to fling herself over the bucking bronco, but she never could say no to her niece. ‘What about Matthew?’ she hedged, seeing Ellie’s stepfather, released from his duties at the bar, engrossed in conversation with a man at the edge of the stage where the next band were due to perform.
‘He’s got a poorly knee,’ Ellie said. ‘And Mummy’s got a baby in her tummy so s
he can’t.’
‘Sshh,’ Caroline whispered, wary of just how many people knew about Anna’s pregnancy. It hadn’t quite been the full twelve weeks yet.
‘Please,’ Ellie cajoled.
‘Oh, all right then!’ Caroline said, allowing herself to be dragged by the hand to the back of the queue.
In a short time it was Ellie and Caroline’s turn. Having witnessed a couple of kids and a rather ambitious (and inebriated) twenty something being chucked off the bull, Caroline was glad she’d opted for skinny jeans. Slipping off her trainers and putting them beside Ellie’s wellington boots, she followed Ellie onto the inflatable area. She lifted Ellie up onto the back of the mechanical bull and then, steeling herself, she bounced on the air cushion and flung one leg over the back.
A chorus of cheers and wolf whistles from the onlookers, led by Matthew and Anna, made her smile as she put her arms around her niece and held the handle on the top of the mechanical bull. At first, the operator went carefully, mindful of Ellie’s age and Caroline’s nerves, but after about thirty seconds of sedate twists and turns, he ramped up the pace and Caroline found herself clinging on for dear life. Ellie squealed with excitement and in another few seconds they both landed on the air cushion, giggling.
‘Again!’ Ellie laughed, jumping up. ‘Come on, Aunty Caroline.’
After another go, with pretty much the same result, Caroline was glad to stagger off the air cushion and reclaim the remains of her pint of cider that Charlotte had been holding for her.
‘You’re braver than I am,’ Charlotte said. ‘I’m going to need a fair few more pints before I attempt it.’
Caroline laughed. ‘It’s not so bad.’
‘Well done,’ came a voice from behind her. Turning, she saw a fresh pint of cider with Jonathan on the end of it. ‘She’s been mithering all afternoon for a go on that, ever since Matthew told her about it. But now you’ve taken one for the team!’
