The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

by Caroline Roberts

  A group of female guests dived in and were soon chatting away stood beside the campervan, teetering on high heels that were sinking into the grass and the gravel driveway. Several pairs of false eyelashes were already batting in Jack’s direction. He played along with the flirting, ready to respond with some fun banter, but he was nothing but professional on nights like these. Work was work. Always. He knew where to draw the line.

  Another group of young women arrived, giggling and chattering as they approached.

  ‘Oh my, look at that cute cocktail bar. Hang on, I need to take a photo. That is so cool … and all in a campervan too.’

  ‘Now then ladies, you are all looking rather gorgeous this evening, I must say. What would you like? I’ve some Raspberry Fizz cocktails ready for you to help yourselves to, or I can offer you the perfect Gin and Tonic to get this party started.’ And he was off, launching into his barman repartee.

  ‘Hey, Em, look, these are so pretty.’ One of the girls was picking up a pink Bellini flute.

  ‘Gorgeous, aren’t they.’

  ‘The staff aren’t looking so bad either,’ chuckled another of the young women in the group.

  ‘Hmm, have to agree with you on that,’ one of her friends purred, loud enough for Jack to hear, whilst darting him a foxy look.

  Jack just shook his head, giving a friendly grin. He was used to the chit-chat, and carried on pouring prosecco into glasses with a steady hand.

  An attractive blonde placed glossy lips against her flute. ‘Oh my, the taste. Sophie, come and have a sip of this, it’s divine.’

  ‘What are you on, the raspberry one?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Cocktails will be served throughout the night, ladies. And if you have any personal favourites, I can make up whatever you like. My bar is well stocked.’

  ‘Oooh, I bet it is.’ The blonde’s tone was flirty as she flashed him a cheeky smile.

  Okay, so he did play up to the flirtiness a tad, but that was it, a charming front. Keeping the customers entertained and happy was all part of the job, and once the welcome drinks were over and it became a pay bar (as it would later this evening), it was his chance to make some extra money, which would help keep Ruby and this business venture going. A smile and a bit of banter kept the punters happy, and the money rolling in.

  Cars began to park up along the edges of the driveway and more taxis arrived. The partygoers stood sipping their welcome drinks, talking and laughing. Birthday Girl, Harriet, was soon on her second Raspberry Bellini, and younger brother Hugo had already darted in whilst Jack was busy, pilfering a G&T, which he had more or less downed in one. Jack gave him an ‘I see you’ sign, along with a stern shake of the head, whilst making a mental note to keep a close eye on him – if he kept downing alcohol like that, Hugo would no doubt end up on the floor, and Abigail would be laying down the law to Jack.

  Grandma Judith was up next, steadying herself on the arm of another elderly relative. ‘Oh, these look good, Faye.’ Her pale wrinkled hand was drifting towards a Raspberry Bellini, bless her. Jack remembered his instructions however, and though part of him felt she should be able to have a cheeky tipple if she wanted, he really didn’t want to be responsible for a ‘funny turn’ or worse on his watch, so he moved in respectfully.

  ‘Now this one is the bees-knees, ladies. Why don’t you give it a try?’ He lifted up two of the elderflower fizzes. ‘Summer in a glass. Let me know what you think.’

  They took them with a smile. ‘Thank you, young man. That’s very kind.’

  ‘Hmm, nice, very refreshing dear,’ the other lady commented.

  Grandma was on it like a car bonnet, however: ‘Not very strong though!’

  Jack suppressed a grin, and deftly switched the focus of their conversation. ‘Love the outfits, ladies. The pastel shades suit you both. Very smart indeed.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Grandma smiled. ‘And yes, this is very nice indeed, too.’ She raised her glass.

  Jack gave a wink. ‘Cheers to you both, and have a lovely evening.’

  ‘Oh, we will do.’ They linked arms once again, their aged eyes a-sparkle. They certainly looked like they were going to make the most of it.

  As they wandered off, he smiled as he heard one of them say, ‘What a lovely young man.’

  The other answering, ‘Yes, our young Harriet would do well finding someone like that … Hard-working and polite. Instead of that waste-of-space Cameron chappie that she seems to have set her sights on.’ Their chatter drifted off into the evening air as they strolled away, no doubt looking to find a comfy seat and hopefully a knee-blanket to ward off any evening chill out in the gardens.

  In a rare quiet moment a little later, the party in full swing, Jack looked across the driveway to his catering companion. Rich cheese and tomato aromas were drifting across from the Pizza Horsebox, and he felt his tummy rumble; perhaps he should have had a bite to eat himself before setting off. His gaze fell on the dark-haired young woman who was busy slicing wedges of pizza at the countertop. There was something about her that gave him pause. Had they met somewhere before? He didn’t think so, he’d surely have remembered those striking dark eyes and that bounce of glossy dark hair, now up in its bun, but hmm, she did seem familiar. He felt a tweak of emotion in his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it felt significant somehow.

  Chapter 2

  What is he staring at?

  The guy at the mobile bar opposite was looking fixedly her way. Surely, he should be getting on with serving, or in fact flirting, with his customers like he had been. Oh yes, Lucy had heard all the noisy giggling going on over there. It was lovely to see and hear everyone enjoying themselves, all dressed up in their fabulous outfits, but honestly, that particular group of girls were like bees round a honeypot. A free cocktail and a cute barman were evidently an instant draw. Lucy reluctantly had to concede that he did have the looks to go with the chat, what with his sun-kissed blond hair, lightly-tanned skin and beaming smile, but boy did he know it. She glanced over. Come to think of it, there was something kind of familiar about him … Ah, perhaps it was just the cheesy TV-style persona, you saw it everywhere on those American shows these days.

  Lucy got back to work, hand-stretching the dough balls as she made up more pizza bases, ready to bake. She was trying to train up newly-recruited assistant Tamsin, who was seventeen, and unfortunately was already proving to be slightly sullen. She’d shown her several times how to spread the pizzas with her homemade tomato sauce, made to Papa’s special recipe with real Italian San Marzano tomatoes, garlic and basil, but the girl still slopped on the mixture half-heartedly. Another problem to deal with; Lucy hadn’t realised how hard it would be to find the right staff. The teenage girl, who’d responded to her advert in the local press just two weeks ago, had worked as a waitress, and seemed fine when she’d met her for a casual interview. They were still getting to know each other, and of course she’d need to give her a chance.

  Lucy so needed this event to go well. She was trying desperately hard to get her new business established and get her name out there. It was only her third booking, and it was bloody typical that she’d got lost in the lanes getting here. Once again, she groaned inwardly that she’d arrived so late. The bloody barman didn’t have to make a point of rubbing it in though, did he? ‘You’re cutting it a bit fine though.’ The cocky prat.

  All Fired Up had taken up all of Lucy’s time and energy lately. It was a huge change in direction for her, after her life had been somewhat flipped upside down and she’d decided to leave the steady job at the accountancy firm where she worked. It was a risk, but it was the chance to finally do something she was passionate about. Several months of research led to trying to find the right horsebox at a good price and getting it kitted out (at a small fortune).

  Bringing it home to her seaside cottage for the first time after its conversion, she couldn’t resist opening up the new hatch, stringing it with bunting, and placing a pot of bright-yellow primu
las on the counter-top. She’d then popped the cork on a mini bottle of prosecco, with an excited Daisy, her cute dachshund, scampering at her feet, whilst she gazed at her horsebox happily. ‘Papa’s Pizzas’ came to mind – she knew that her beloved grandfather would be so proud of her. But this venture was much more than that, it was about her as well as paying homage to him. She felt all fired up for her new life, these new beginnings … ‘All Fired Up’ – that was it! Perfect.

  The next day, she’d painted the horsebox a pretty soft-chalky grey, putting the finishing touches to this quaint and quirky mobile pizza van. There was so much at stake, not least the chance to finally try and achieve her dream.

  Back to the here and now, the oven was up to temperature, thank goodness, and she and Tamsin soon managed to serve out the first pizzas, phew! A few partygoers drifted their way, grabbing just-cooked slices and murmuring their ‘Mmms’ and ‘Aahs’ of appreciation.

  In a bid to get back onside with tonight’s clients, Lucy had tracked down an unfortunately sour-faced Abigail a little earlier, apologising for their delay and explaining the SatNav failure. She really didn’t want to get off on the wrong footing, especially not when she was trying so hard to build her name and reputation, or she’d be getting her clients ‘all fired up’ for the all the wrong reasons. Oh well, she’d just need to crack on now and make the most delicious pizzas and homemade garlic breads for their party this evening, then perhaps Harriet, her mother, and the 21st Birthday guests might instead remember her and her pizzas for all the right reasons.

  More guests were arriving by the minute, so she’d better get a move on with her next round of toppings – goat’s cheese and red pepper with rocket and balsamic glaze, and BBQ chicken with red onion and a drizzle of smoky sauce. Lucy stood beside Tamsin, rhythmically chopping mushrooms and onions, to the beat of party music that drifted from the beautiful, grand house. When Lucy had gone in earlier to find Abigail and Harriet to make her apologies, she’d stood wide-eyed in the mansion-like space. A grand, polished, dark-wooden staircase curved down to a black-and-white tiled entrance hall. There were huge vases filled with beautiful fresh flowers, and above there was even a sparkling crystal chandelier. It had reminded her of Downton Abbey. Hah, the whole of Lucy’s quaint but tiny cottage would probably fit inside the lobby area.

  Thinking of home suddenly reminded Lucy of her little dog Daisy, a gorgeous black-and-tan smooth dachshund who was settled in her pet bed in the back of Lucy’s truck – well out of the way of the food zone. The vehicle’s windows were open and the dog had a bowl of water beside her, but she’d need to remember to let her out for a breath of air and a toilet break at some point. Lucy liked to take Daisy with her whenever she could, rather than leave her pining at home in the little seaside cottage that they shared. She’d found her at the local animal rescue centre ten months before. Her owners hadn’t been able to cope with her ‘bad’ habits: eating huge chunks off of the wooden skirting boards whilst they were out at work being one of her regular misdemeanours, and barking constantly.

  The beautiful brown-eyed dog had looked up at Lucy from her kennel, and she knew there and then that Daisy just needed some love, a little TLC – Lucy knew that feeling well enough too. They had bonded instantly, and though Daisy could still be a diva at times, she was the best companion ever, and had helped Lucy through some emotionally tough times.

  The evening rolled on in a hot and hectic whirl of topping pizzas, cooking pizzas, and serving pizzas. At times, Lucy felt very like the Muppet chef. There were some special requests, including a young man asking for Lucy to create a heart-shape from the pepperoni slices, to surprise his girlfriend, which was rather sweet of him and made Lucy smile. So, there was still some romance in the world, she mused – shame it had upped and buggered off rather spectacularly from her own life over eighteen months ago. She put that thought neatly aside.

  It was nearing nine o’clock. They’d managed to serve everyone in the queue that had formed, and there seemed to be a bit of a lull. There was a genial buzz amongst the groups standing chatting outside, some guests drifted in and out from the house where there was music and dancing and laughter. ‘Umm, I’m just going to take a quick break, if that’s alright, Tamsin? Keep making up more bases, but just take orders for now. No need to touch the oven at all,’ she confirmed, ‘and keep an eye out that no-one else is going anywhere near it. Let anyone that might want pizza know we’ll be ready to serve again in about ten, fifteen minutes. Okay?’

  ‘Yeah, no problem,’ the young girl answered, reaching for her phone to no doubt pass the time.

  As Lucy stepped down from the trailer, she couldn’t help but notice that the sandy-haired campervan guy across the way was making a big show, shaking a metal cocktail canister vigorously with his chest all puffed out. Crikey, did he think he was Tom Cruise or something? Like in that old film Cocktail she’d seen on Netflix a while back? She wasn’t quite sure why, but his manner irked her.

  The barman then dramatically poured a frothy deep-brown liquid into two martini glasses with a flourish, garnishing them with a floating coffee bean. ‘Voila, madam. Your espresso martinis,’ she heard him gush.

  ‘Ooh, they look amazing. Thank you,’ replied the auburn-haired woman at the van’s hatch, likely fluttering her eyelashes.

  ‘The very same colour as your beautiful deep-brown eyes.’ Lucy was sure he’d slipped into a French accent then. Hah, he was as North-East as the rest of them here, with his Geordie-style lilt she’d heard earlier.

  Cheesy or what.

  She left the corny bar show behind and went for a brief toilet stop before letting Diva Daisy out for her own. The little dog was eager to get out of the truck and into her arms. Lucy stroked her soft short fur; it always felt soothing.

  ‘Hey, what a good girl you’ve been there, haven’t you. Shall we go for a little walk?’ Those dark eyes looked up at her lovingly, Daisy happy as always to be reunited with her owner. ‘Come on, then.’

  Lucy clipped her lead onto her navy velvet collar and set her down on the ground. Daisy gave an excited bark. They could take a few minutes’ stroll in a quiet part of the gardens, Lucy decided; let her sniff the borders, and do what she needed.

  The sun had gone down in a soft smoulder of peachy-greys, the garden now bathed in a magical half-light. The fairy lights Lucy had strung across the hatch of her vintage horsebox twinkled merrily. She had to admit, the mobile pizzeria looked really pretty, and she felt herself glow with pride. She’d give it her best shot, whatever it took. The party was in full swing, the sounds of laughter and the beat of the music getting louder now as the celebrations ramped up, drifting from the open windows of the big house.

  Daisy was too busy taking in all the people and the hubbub around her to settle. She sniffed and scratched at a border or two, Lucy pulling her away before her digging got too obvious and left its mark, but unusually she didn’t seem to need a wee. Oh well, she’d had her chance. Lucy had better head back to the horsebox, give her hands a thorough wash, and get on with her pizza making, before her absence and the lack of fresh pizzas were noted by Abigail and the guests.

  She and Daisy had to pass Mr Cocky Cocktail Man on the way back. Although she did have to admit his ruby-red VW, Jack’s Cocktail Campervan as the sign read, did look pretty impressive. And she supposed she may as well be friendly and say hello. After all, they might well be working at the same events together in the future.

  He had just finished creating a gorgeous-looking lemony drink in a tall glass, which he passed to a rather glamorous forty-something lady, who thanked him with a beam of a smile and walked off.

  ‘Now that looks good,’ Lucy commented.

  ‘A Tom Collins. A lemon, gin and soda classic,’ the bartender replied with a smile.

  ‘Sounds good, too.’

  ‘Oh, I’d have made you one, but you’re the pizza lady, right? You’ll be driving later, won’t you? And they do tend to be quite strong.’

  ‘Yup, you
got it. So, no cocktails for me tonight,’ she responded. He was staring at her … a little too intently. She suddenly felt uncomfortable. ‘Right, well anyway, I’d better get back to my pizza station and back to work, I suppose … Ah, I’m Lucy, by the way.’

  ‘Hi Lucy, I’m Jack. But that’s probably no surprise.’ He glanced down at the logo on his apron front, his eyes then crinkling with a smile as he extended a hand in greeting. She took it and felt its warmth, his firm grip. He flashed her a white-toothed grin. ‘Lovely to meet you.’ Was that a wink he’d just given her?

  ‘Hello, Jack,’ she replied, her voice a little clipped. Yep, he was a right charmer, just as she had thought.

  It was then that Lucy looked down and realised what had been going on whilst they were chatting. Worryingly, the wooden corner of his A-frame chalkboard was looking decidedly ragged, chewed in fact. It then fell over with a clatter as Daisy nudged up against it, and then decided her call of nature was due, proceeding to walk and then pee all over the writing, smearing the lettering of the Classic Mojito and obliterating the Strawberry one and its little hand-drawn pictures altogether.

  Oh god, Daisy no, what have you done!

  Jack looked down just as the little dog was triumphantly moving off, kicking up the grassy dirt around her, spattering the board with that too.

  ‘Uh, did your dog just do what I think it did?’ The guy was gobsmacked, his smile frozen, and … he looked decidedly angry. ‘Jeez, look at my bloody sign. I spent ages writing that out. What the hell is it doing here anyway? I can’t imagine pizza-making and dogs go very well together!’

  His sharp tone got Lucy’s back up, and even though Daisy had been rather naughty, it was just an unfortunate accident. ‘She is Daisy, and she’s been safely out of the way ’til now. It’s not the end of the bloody world. I’ll go and get some water and get the, er … wee off a bit.’ She wasn’t sure how she was going to disguise the gnawed edges, mind. ‘Or I’ll buy you a new one, if need be,’ she added, a little more conciliatory.