Lottie, with her whole skin feeling as if it was tingling and twinkling to itself, followed Connor across the pub to a small table with two chairs, a small vase with a few sprigs of greenery in the middle and a salt and pepper pot next to a basket with knives and forks.
As they waited for the pies to arrive they sat and chatted about Connor’s diving school, which he wasn't giving much away about, and about the next Secret Evenings event which Dimitri had pushed full force ahead with but they were yet to have either a location or a theme for.
‘Anyway, enough about me. What about you? No woman in your life?’ Lottie asked.
What? Oh my god! Where did that suddenly spring from?
Connor coughed. ‘No. There hasn’t been for a while. You?’
Lottie laughed. ‘To be honest, Connor, I haven’t had a relationship for a very long time.’
What! What are you saying? Pretend you have a fabulous, interesting life and lots of men waiting in the wings. Allude to the fact that you have men queuing up to be with you. To take you out and wine you and dine you.
‘You prefer to stroke vegetables.’ Connor laughed.
‘I do. Much less bother.’
Oops not one of my best lines, either.
Connor leant forward in his chair. ‘Well, I’ll cut to the chase. I was married when I was quite young. It just didn’t work out with my work and hours, and looking back on it now I think I was a bit more interested in my career than her. Then I had a fiancée. That was, more or less, a disaster too,’ Connor said and looked away.
‘Sorry, are you okay?’
‘Oh god, yes. I’m fine. It just all got a bit, what’s the word? I don’t even know. She was desperate to start a family and it just wasn’t happening. We tried for years. We’d tried everything and then it all sort of fell apart. And that’s when and how I arrived in Pretty Beach, actually. I came up here on a diving job for some advisory work on the repair of the ferry wharf up at Newport Reef, and I thought stuff it, I’m going to come up here. She’d already left me by then. So, I chucked it all in back in Surrey. There was nothing left for me by then really and here I am. Still here. Still loving it.’
‘Wow. Sounds like you had a bit of a tough time.’
‘Ahh, not really. Who doesn’t by the time they get to our age? It just didn’t end up turning out as I thought and now I’m here I do wonder how it would have all worked out anyway,’ Connor said as James approached their table with two steaming plates with their pies, mash, and two little white jugs full of June’s renowned gravy.
‘James, you are a lifesaver. These pies are just what I need. Thank you so much. I’m absolutely ravenous,’ Lottie said smiling.
‘My pleasure,’ James said, and smiled as he walked away.
‘What about you then, Lottie? I know you said the boys were away in boarding school. Divorced?’
Lottie looked directly into Connor’s eyes. ‘My husband Charlie passed away from a heart attack when the boys were quite young.’
‘Oh god, so sorry! I didn’t know,’ Connor replied and went to put his hand on Lottie’s. ‘I put my foot right in it there. Sorry, I had no idea.’
‘All good. I’m fine now. You sort of get used to it as time passes.’
Connor nodded. ‘It must have been very hard.’
‘Yes. It was. There were some awfully bleak days back then. Funny how you look back on it all, though. I had no choice but to pick myself back up and carry on. No choice at all. It seems almost like another life sometimes if I’m honest and that in itself seems a strange thing to say.’
Connor continued to listen as Lottie carried on talking. ‘I mean there were rough days where I slouched around in my trackie bottoms and cried for days when I could, but yeah, I just had to get through it. What else can you do?’
‘So sad.’
‘It was. However, I’m fine and actually, I’d rather not talk about it. I like to keep the happy memories at the fore as much as I can these days.’
‘Of course,’ Connor said and patted Lottie’s hand. ‘Why don’t you tell me some more about your vegetables.’
‘You seem to like the idea of stroking them too,’ Lottie joked.
‘Perhaps.’
Lottie laughed as Connor continued.
‘Anyway. About that dinner. Let’s get that date locked in, shall we?’
And Lottie Cloudberry giggled and sat back doused in the golden, tingly glow.
Chapter 45
The next day Lottie had already been up and completed an hour of gardening, prepped bolognese sauce for a batch of lasagnes for her dinner round and pressed all the linen shirts for the next Secret Evenings function.
As she came back into the kitchen from the garden, Dimitri was sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee by his side and a little rack of toast in front of him. Next to him on the table was a long, thin notepad, his tablet on the other side, and his phone propped up against a jar of jam playing the news from a television station in Greece.
‘Okay? All ready for it?’ Lottie asked him as she came in.
‘Yes. Just checking the lists. We have another busy day coming up. Starting at Suntanned Pete’s for the cafe tables and chairs, over to the bookshop, get it all set up, take the photos. Then get back here, have a quick lunch and we can start on the last of the prep out the back. Sam, the electrician, is coming back to finish off with the oven and with any luck, the plumber will be here on his way home from Newport Reef to fix that pipe out the back.’
‘Sounds like a plan. A full one.’
‘Yep. It’s another jam-packed day. However, we are now fully booked for the bookshop and I’ve just done the figures. Even if this stays the same we are well on our way. If we have to get a couple of staff for the evenings we will now easily be able to swallow that cost. In fact, I was talking to Holly about it and she mentioned that a couple of her girls also do waitressing and Phia from Maisy’s cafe also does shifts for Sallie when she has time.’
Lottie nodded. ‘Hmm. Not sure we’re ready to take that on yet, are we?’
‘I think we are. I think it would be a valuable investment.’
‘I’ll leave it up to you. You’re the brains, I'm the cook, remember. I do as you say.’ Lottie smiled.
Dimitri laughed, put his crockery in the dishwasher, gathered up his things and fifteen minutes later they were in the car and on their way over to Suntanned Pete’s.
After collecting the cafe tables from Pete, parking at the back of the bookshop and lugging all the tables and chairs in Dimitri and Lottie worked all morning setting up the bookshop for the photos. As Lottie finished popping pale cream, white and lemon jugs around from her collection and stuffed them with masses of colour coordinating flowers the whole place started to look as she had hoped.
Each of the French-style cafe tables had a long white tablecloth, a jug with the flowers on the top and layers of white and yellow floral china. Each jug was tied with a huge lemon-yellow grosgrain bow and the old display cabinets at the back were groaning with beautifully displayed books, the odd lemon candle here and there and huge pitchers of flowers. Lottie looked around checking what she’d forgotten. It was a good job everything had come from her garden. The flowers alone would have blown their budget out of the water.
To the side of the room, a tiny little bow front paned window overlooked outside and Lottie had fixed up a piece of white fabric with small yellow flowers, scooped the whole thing back, and held it in place with the same ribbon as the jugs. It gave the room a small, intimate cosy feel.
Rather than the fairy lights they had plumped for in the Boat House, in the bookshop Lottie had chosen lanterns hanging from the ceiling and had spent all morning hanging white lanterns with tiny little electric tea lights inside from the ceiling with fishing wire.
‘Done?’ Dimitri asked, as he stood there with his phone ready to take the photos.
‘I think so. What do you think?’ Lottie said as they stood at the doorway looking back at the scene they
’d spent all morning creating.
‘Excellent. Not many more of these and we’ll have enough content not to have to do this run-through before an event. It’s what’s making it tiring, I think. At least with this set up out the back here though we won’t have to pack it all away again.’
‘It’s going to make a huge difference. All I’ll need to do is take the flowers and redo them on the day.’
‘Yep. And it’s precisely the reason we need to get the outbuilding sorted out this afternoon.’
‘Totally agreed. Oh, and we need to think of a name. Outbuilding Evenings doesn’t quite have the ring to it I was envisaging.’
Chapter 46
Lottie had worked all hours to get everything running smoothly for Secret Evenings - after a problem with online payments, she’d set up a new account to ensure it was faultless and Dimitri had synced everything to both their phones. She’d enquired as to the cost and availability of Phia from Maisy’s cafe and asked for the help of one of Holly’s girls for the event at the bookshop.
The finances from the first evening had been much better than they’d anticipated, and when they’d gone over their costs with a fine-tooth comb, they’d appreciated more than they had at first that utilising Lottie’s garden for the produce and her vast stash of collected china, plus homegrown flowers was the key to making the whole thing financially viable. Luke and Juliette’s input had also been both invaluable and faultless, and Dimitri’s lists had kept everything closely in line with the tight budget.
They’d read and reread, analysed and researched as many home restaurants as they could find and had quickly come to the conclusion that they could charge more money for the sort of menu that Lottie was offering, and upped the price for the remaining bookings, allowing them the possible luxury of a waitress for the upcoming functions.
Lottie and Dimitri had quickly ascertained from the enquiries, emails, and comments on social media that the Secret Evenings customer loved the idea of the exclusivity of the events, adored the hidden nature of it all, and was more than willing to pay to dine in a unique environment in Pretty Beach. Add to that the fact that these customers were foodies and seriously into locally sourced food, the whole thing worked in Lottie and Dimitri’s favour every step of the way. Dimitri had raised the price on the remaining events with bated breath and was pleasantly surprised when the bookings had continued to flow in.
Lottie, keen to do anything to grow the business, had been listening to copious amounts of marketing podcasts with her headphones on as she gardened late into the night. She knew the basics but as she learnt more she knew that the location, the decor, and the whole Secret Evenings in Pretty Beach brand itself was key to its success. The food had to be spot on, the service impeccable, but it was the locations all around Pretty Beach that were fundamental.
As the juggernaut of Secret Evenings ploughed on, Lottie and Dimitri had made it their number one goal to constantly up their game. The Boat House had been a perfect opener but the clandestine nature of a pop-up evening in the back of the bookshop in the old cobbled laneway of Pretty Beach wasn’t far behind. The teaser pictures, the menu, the social media posts all worked together for the dream environment and the even dreamier food which they knew wouldn’t disappoint.
The setting was hard to beat; an old cruiser bike outside a bookshop rammed with lovely books, an old bay window with a stripy lemon-yellow awning, a backroom beautifully decorated in whites and pale yellows and overflowing with flowers. All in the middle of a row of pastel shops sitting on a laneway winding its way down to a sparkling sea.
The Secret Evenings patron loved it all - the idea of a restaurant in a confidential spot in Pretty Beach, the carefully thought out menu, the cosy setting, the garden produce, the beautiful old vintage linens, the plethora of lanterns hanging from the ceiling, the old antique display shelves full of things picked up from the beach and tumbled by the sea. It had all been studiously thought out and the resulting setting ethereal.
The menu of this charming experience dreamt up by Lottie matched everything else. Handmade butters, stacks of fresh herbs, local meats, freshly made bread, eggs from their own chickens, home pressed cordials, locally-caught fish, old-fashioned teas, and chocolates made in a kitchen looking out on a garden sloping down towards the sea.
Dimitri was adamant that as their local following grew, regular evening events in the eaves of the outbuilding with the sea in the distance in addition to the pop-ups would not only be frequented by locals but the business would expand. Secret Evenings in Pretty Beach would become part of the tourist scene and they both knew the value of a slice of that Pretty Beach pie.
It was all very dream-like and fantastic-sounding from the outside but Lottie and Dimitri knew how much hard work it took to create one evening that went like clockwork. Every aspect of the puzzle had to fit together seamlessly, and Lottie was working fifteen or more hours a day to keep all the plates spinning and the money coming in.
Lottie was standing in the kitchen thinking about it all and just as she was putting her phone down to start on a batch of curry for her dinner round, her phone beeped with a video call. It was Juliette who was sitting in her car, probably in between appointments on her rounds.
‘Hey! Look, I’m just on my way to a visit so I’ve got to be quick. There’s a skip down near the Boat House. I think it might be from Barry’s place. Anyway. There’s an old unit in there. It’s really worn and weathered. It would be amazing for your new space. You know, as a sideboard dumbwaiter type thing. It’s a pale blue-grey with glass panels and mirrors to the back. Honestly, Lottie, it’s absolutely stunning.’
‘Really! That sounds right up my alley.’
‘I know. God knows how you'll get it out of the skip though... I’ve left a message for Luke but he’s not answered yet.’
‘I could pop down there now and have a look.’
‘It will be gone if anyone else who likes antique stuff sees it. Come to think of it, Sallie’s probably already spied it! Hang on. I took a photo. I’ll send it to you now.’
Lottie waited for the photo to arrive and opened it to see a beautiful, old, double-width antique unit with curved leadlight glass panels to the front, a lock and key on the main door, and an ornate edge to the back. Someone at some point in its life had painted it pale grey and it was wearing lots of signs of age. The beautiful patina of time and the curves of the timber were as Juliette had already noted, perfect for the building at the end of the garden.
‘Juliette! It’s perfect!’
‘I know! It’s got Secret Evenings all over it, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes! I have to have it. I’m going down there now. I’ll find out whose it is. Failing that, I’m getting in and sitting on it until help arrives to get it up the hill.’
‘Ha! Good luck with that. Right, got to go. Text me. If you’ve not got it by this afternoon we’ll come down and help.’
Lottie put her phone in her pocket, ran out to the hallway, grabbed her jacket, and scooted out to her car. She wracked her brain and tried to think where the unit would have come from. The skip was perched on a funny little spot not far from the Boat House and the kayak place.
Lottie tried to remain calm and not drive like a lunatic down Strawberry Hill. The last thing she could afford was a speeding fine. The traffic lights changed twice without her going through at the junction to the Old Town, and she drummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel and willed the lights to let her through on the next round of green.
Five minutes later, and Lottie was indicating to turn down the laneway and made her way to the Boat House. Just as she pulled up she saw the skip on the funny bit of ground right on the road next to the kayak hire centre just as she had seen in Juliette’s photo.
Lottie pulled up onto the verge, turned off the ignition, slammed her door shut, clicked the remote to lock her car, and ran over to the skip and peered in. The unit was a million times better in real life than it had looked in the photos and
would cost a fortune to buy.
Precariously balanced on a pile of old timber, a load of bricks and a stack of cracked concrete blocks and a lot of rubble Lottie stared at the unit and willed it to be hers. It was perfect for both the space, the function and the aesthetic of Secret Evenings.
Ahhh. How am I going to get this in my car? Think. Think. Think.
The unit was just high enough on the bricks and blocks to be not too tricky to lift out, and she thought it might just fit in the back of her car with the seats down. However, there was one of her and no way she would be able to even budge it on her own.
Lottie looked up and down the road and seeing no one around pulled herself over the side of the skip and hopped in to try and ascertain how heavy the thing actually was. She crunched over the bricks, dust, and old timber and nudged the old dresser. It wasn’t quite as heavy as it looked, but it would still take a couple of strong people to get it out of the skip.
Dust and dirt flew up as Lottie stepped back to get another really good look at the unit, and she coughed and spluttered at the cloud of dust. Just as she was standing in the skip with her hands on her hips, head to one side, and considering whether or not it would still be there if she waited until later when Dimitri, Juliette, and Luke could come back to collect it she heard the sound of an engine and a car pulled up behind her.
Lottie turned around and looked over the top of the skip to see Connor in a large, shiny, black Range Rover with the passenger window wound down.
‘I thought it was you! And then I thought, no. No. Surely not. Surely the tiny woman I am taking out to dinner next week is not standing, surrounded by a cloud of dust, right in the middle of a skip.’
Lottie started laughing and raised her eyes as she balanced on top of the rubble in the skip.
Typical. Trust him to turn up when yet again I’m looking as if I may well have a screw loose.
‘What the heck are you doing?’ Connor called out from the car with a frown.
Secret Evenings in Pretty Beach Page 17
