The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

by Caroline Roberts

  Fifteen minutes later he arrived, parking Ruby up down a seaside track. Yes, the highest dune, that was the one. It was a special place, a place that he came to when he needed time to think … or sometimes just to be. He shoved a notepad and a pen in his rucksack, along with a can of cold beer. He intended to sit for a while and let his thoughts run free.

  His pace was swift through the lower dunes, but then the climb was slower, wading in trainers up through shifting sand. It had felt like a mountain clambering up there when they were young. Every step now taking him back to those two little boys … the joy of arriving at the summit, that king-of-the-castle moment, then hurtling down those sandy slopes, juddering bold steps and nearly tumbling over at the bottom. He could almost hear their boyish laughter.

  And in winter, there was that time when Dad took the plastic sledges for them. The sand was nearly as good as snow, but not quite as fast. The exhilaration, that fear of getting tipped out. Milky hot chocolates poured out by Mum from the flask back at the car, hugged by chilly, happy hands. His family. Mum, Dad and Daniel.

  Those childhood days where you believed you were invincible, that nothing bad could happen. When you believed that you’d always be together.

  Sat at the top now, perched on a high sandy ridge, Jack gazed out to the deep dark-grey swell of sea, heard the peep of the white-and-black terns and the sharp cry of a pair of oyster catchers, circling above. The sun warmed him, yet inside he still felt a little cold, empty.

  It had all happened such a long time ago, and yet the hurt could feel so raw. He’d tried so hard to move on, but sometimes he needed to look back too. Jack found himself trying to write, paper to hand, yet the pen dangled uselessly in his fingertips, the words were so not coming. Hmm, very like the phone call he was hoping might have landed by now from Lucy … And still, nothing.

  Love and marriage go together like a horse and carriage

  Please join us in celebrating

  the Wedding of

  Anna and Michael

  at Alnmouth Village Hall

  From 7 p.m., Saturday 10th July

  RSVP

  Chapter 28

  Should he just go ahead and ring her?

  Jack ploughed on with two more functions the following week, with neither sight nor sound of Lucy. Flashbacks to that rather gorgeous hug and the out-of-the-blue kiss at the farm party kept rising unbidden in his mind. Should he just pluck up the courage to ask her out on a date the next time they met? Just bite the bullet.

  He stared at the mobile phone in his hand, then began flipping it over in his palm. It was like a game of dare he was playing with himself. Was Lucy waiting for him to call? He was so close to dialling her number. But he held back, unsure of his own motivations. His feelings were extremely sensual, he knew that. How could you not have your senses ignited by that gorgeously pretty face, the sweep of dark hair, that smile when she let it loose, her laugh? But there was something about the way he felt about her that also made him uneasy … like he might get drawn in, beyond the physical, further than he was prepared to go. To a place where he might get hurt.

  A further seven long days later, an evening wedding reception was being held at Alnmouth village hall – a picturesque coastal village with pastel-coloured houses overlooking the tranquil estuary of the River Aln. Being her first wedding booking, it was a big event for Lucy, and her nerves were already jangling. To add to that, as Lucy pulled up in her horsebox, she felt super-flustered when she saw that Ruby was there, with Jack stood in the open roof space setting up his lights and cocktail glasses, ready for action. He gave a wide grin and a wave as he spotted her. She gave a hesitant wave back, whilst looking for a space to park. Friendly was fine, she told herself, friendly she could do. But she was determined not to get drawn into Jack’s charming web again – Becky would never let her hear the end of it.

  A wedding … hah, she’d never got past the engagement stage with Liam. She and Liam hadn’t even got as far as booking a venue for their wedding. After five years engaged, that in itself should have set off alarm bells. Old hurts still lurked, but she rallied. They were never meant to be, and there was no point staying bitter. And as for tonight, Lucy knew that she wanted to make this event extra special for the wedding couple. She was keen to decorate the horsebox extra-prettily with a newly-purchased garland of delicate white silk flowers set above the hatch, as well as her twinkling fairy lights. She propped a rustic-looking wooden sign, that read Mr and Mrs in swirly white writing, on her countertop, beside a milk jug filled with fresh white carnations and fragrant freesia. An event-theming tip she’d picked up from Jack.

  Jack … don’t even go there, she reminded herself, whilst her mind wandered dangerously in his direction, and she stole a sneaky glance. Her heart gave a strange pang, catching sight of the blond scruffy-cute hair, the smart white shirt and black bow tie. He’d gone all out for this occasion too, then. She sighed and moved her gaze. The village-hall doors were flung wide open and Lucy caught a glimpse of pretty fairy lights, and beautiful white-rose and eucalyptus floral table decorations. There were tables and chairs positioned outside too, to make the most of the beautiful sea view and the summer evening, with pretty tea-light candle holders and glass jam jars filled with white rose and delicate gypsophila posies.

  The guests began to gather, gravitating towards the Cocktail Campervan for a glass of bubbly. The wedding had taken place earlier that afternoon at the village church, with a lunch for close family and friends in a nearby country hotel. The newlyweds, bridesmaids and ushers had since been down to the beach for a fabulous seaside photo session. Now was the time for everybody to let their hair down and have a little fun, with the bride and groom now arriving – a dusting of sand still on their lace and linen – in an open carriage pulled by a gorgeous dappled grey horse. The couple looked so happy as they smiled and waved.

  Love and marriage … go together like a horse and carriage, came to Lucy’s mind. But the loud clip-clopping of the horse’s hooves also sounded very much like a warning to her.

  An hour later, and the lyrics from ‘The Shoop Shoop Song’ were booming out from the hall as part of a Golden Oldies disco mix. Lucy bobbed her head in time to the music, losing herself for a moment in the words.

  Hmm, his kiss indeed … Lucy’s thoughts snagged once again on a certain Jack Anderson, as the romantic setting of the wedding enveloped her … memories of that gorgeous afternoon on the beach, Jack going all out to help find Daisy … could he really be such a heartless prat? Was Becky just caught up in the past and her own hurts? All that with Becky was eight or so years ago, after all. Did Jack actually deserve a chance? Bloody hell, no amount of pizza topping, veggie chopping, and hot-oven tending could get him out of her head.

  What if …? What if they chatted tonight as they packed up? Could she pluck up the courage, suggest a walk on the beach or meeting up to grab a coffee down at Driftwood one day? Not a date as such, just a bit of time together, see how they got on. Was it time to take a bit of a chance? Yes, Becky had warned her off, but Jack might well have changed from that arrogant young lad that Becky had known. It was many years ago, after all. People grew up, learnt from their experiences. The memories from that afternoon on the beach … The man she’d spoken with then, seemed friendly, warm, caring. Something had sparked inside her that day, she knew that.

  What if …? The thought kept tweaking in her mind, as she looked up, catching his eye just then, which lit up his cute smile. Oh my!

  ‘A Mango Fizz and a two Raspberry Rum Smashes, please.’ The tall, slim brunette at the counter gave a friendly smile as she ordered.

  ‘Coming right up,’ Jack beamed back.

  Tonight’s cocktails were fruity and fun. The happy couple had requested some refreshing summery punches to be served alongside the usual cocktail classics. There were lots of people in their late twenties and early thirties there, being friends of the bride and groom, as well as the usual wedding family mix-up of quirky uncles, aged aun
ts, flower girls and wound-up toddlers, plus a round-up of characterful village acquaintances.

  ‘This is so cool,’ the brunette continued. ‘A campervan bar, it’s amazing. And cocktails too … my absolute favourite drinks, all wrapped up in a cute VW.’ The young woman stopped talking then and gave a frown of concentration, focussing on Jack. ‘Hey, don’t I know you … aren’t you that guy from school? Yeah, Alnwick High school, back in sixth form? That’s it, you were in my tutor group … it’s Jack. Jack … Hmm …? Help me out here.’

  ‘Anderson, yeah. And you must be … hang on … it’s on the tip of my tongue … Freya.’ A mousy-haired, shy seventeen-year-old came to mind. He had no idea of her surname.

  ‘Freya Lightwater, yep, that’s me. Hi, Jack.’ She tilted her head, coyly.

  Two of her girlfriends gathered around then. ‘Have you ordered yet, Frey? It’s been ages,’ one asked rather loudly and impatiently.

  ‘Of course.’ She blushed pink, seeming a little downtrodden by the two bossier babes who’d just turned up.

  Jack felt a little sorry for her. He also had a feeling that from her giveaway sway she might have sampled one or two of his cocktails already this evening, no doubt in addition to several glasses of the wedding reception wine.

  The young woman steadied herself, holding onto Ruby’s chrome counter.

  ‘Your drinks will be ready shortly,’ he addressed the annoying new arrival. ‘Being hand-crafted, they do take a little while, but that’s what the art of cocktail making is all about.’

  Loud-Mouth had the cheek to raise her black-pencilled eyebrows impatiently.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Freya added politely, ‘I don’t mind waiting.’

  The other two women just huffed, with Loud-Mouth saying, ‘You should have just ordered a bottle of bloody prosecco, Frey.’

  Jack managed to hold his tongue, no use antagonising the guests.

  The drinks were soon made, the Raspberry Rum Smash had been a bit of a hit tonight, and the Mango Fizz looked cool, juicy and refreshing, both drinks delightful for a summer’s evening.

  Freya passed the bossy babes their drinks, who then waltzed off leaving her alone again. She stayed at the counter, taking a sip of her own mango delight. ‘Wow, that is sooo good. Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome, Freya.’ She seemed a really sweet girl. ‘Just go steady now.’

  ‘Hah, I’m trying. It’s these new shoes they’re a nightmare. I wasn’t designed for high heels.’

  ‘Well watch your step, hey.’

  ‘Will do. It’s been nice chatting to you, Jack. Take care.’

  ‘You too.’

  And off she went, a teensy bit wobbly on her stilettos, to hopefully find some better friends to spend the rest of the evening with.

  Later on, Lucy watched from across the way. Crikey, how many more drinks could people pack in? Despite it being well past midnight, they were still clamouring for yet another cocktail at Jack’s bar, like bees round a honeypot. Lucy had been working steadily all night, but her pizza order had now been fulfilled, with lots of lovely comments coming from the wedding guests, which was brilliant. She was beginning to feel more confident with every event.

  Lucy began packing up her horsebox kitchen area, cleaning every surface thoroughly. Suddenly, she heard a ‘Whoa, steady on love,’ from over the way. She looked up to see a young woman fall against a man who happened to be holding two drinks aloft, spilling a lurid pink one all down his smart pale-grey suit. Oops.

  ‘Sorry, I’m so sorry!’ The girl looked mortified, whilst still appearing unsteady on her feet.

  ‘This suit cost me a bloody fortune. It’s ruined now.’ The chap was not at all happy.

  ‘Okay, okay, folks. Here, take a seat.’ Jack stepped down from the campervan, taking control of the situation, and helping the wobbly girl to one of the chairs that were set out beside his bar. Lucy couldn’t quite make out what was said next, but it was apparent that he was trying to smooth things over. The guy wandered off, still irked, judging by the grimace creased over his face, whilst Jack crouched down and said something to the young woman.

  The girl stayed there, resting her head in her hands at the little table, whilst Jack went back to serve his last few customers. It wasn’t long before the disco guy announced the last track, and then there was Frank Sinatra blasting out ‘New York, New York’ from the hall, with some interesting high-leg kicking manoeuvres spilling over into the car park. A cluster of taxis arrived soon afterwards to collect the swaying, and occasionally singing, wedding guests as they drifted off home and to their overnight accommodation.

  Finally, this might be their time; the end-of-night chance to chat. It could be Lucy’s best opportunity to catch up with Jack, and then well, muster up the courage to ask him … for a coffee, or something? She felt a bit nervous, and seeing there was a couple stood beside the campervan, ducked out for now, taking Daisy out for a quick stroll around the field edge instead, whilst finding her nerve.

  After making a brief circuit, Lucy wandered back. She could see Jack bustling about, tidying up inside the campervan. Should she just walk right on up? All she had to do was start with ‘Hello.’ But damn, the tipsy girl was still there on her chair, possibly dozing, judging by her slumped-looking pose.

  Jack cleared glasses into crates, emptied and wiped down Ruby’s counter area and was making final preparations to shut up shop. Lucy knew his routine as well as her own by now – her time was running out. She heaved the pizza oven back inside the horsebox, was steeling herself to go across, when she saw Jack spot the young woman and go on out to her. Lucy watched as he nudged the girl awake, asking her something. The young woman just shook her head, then remained seated, looking a little lost, whilst Jack went off into the hall. Coming back again a few minutes later, he said a few words, then helped her up, hooking his arm around her shoulders. She giggled and moved in close to him, seeming to be muttering something into this ear.

  Lucy suddenly felt very uneasy, scrubbing her counter top extra hard, unable to peel her eyes away from the pair of them. Jack then bundled the brunette into Ruby’s passenger seat. And, were they … kissing? Lucy craned her neck to try and get a better look, her heart hammering and sweat forming near her temples. Jack was certainly very close, helping to secure the seat belt across the girl’s rather revealing chest area. Their heads close together – too close.

  Lucy felt sick to the pit of her stomach. What was she actually witnessing? Was this the Jack she’d been warned about? The player. The charmer. The take-a-girl-home even if she is tipsy, kind of guy?

  He hadn’t even stopped to take the time to chat with Lucy tonight as they’d cleared up. Spotting some easier prey, no doubt, someone else to lure home to his den. Oh, and she’d been so bloody naïve, hadn’t she, willing herself to give him the benefit of the doubt. Thinking they might even spend some time together, get to know each other a little more. Hah, bloody hah.

  She stood and watched, with a thick lump forming in her throat, as Ruby set off into the night, with her cosy cargo of two, leaving Lucy feeling saddened and confused. But then, she reminded herself, steeling her heart once more, perhaps it was better to know what he was like. To see the real Jack in action. Whatever had just happened, perhaps she had just had a lucky escape.

  Chapter 29

  An eventful Saturday night – for all the wrong reasons – turned into a wet, drizzly Sunday morning. Lucy lay in bed with Daisy curled up beside her, absently stroking the dog’s smooth black fur, wondering if she should bother to get up yet. It wouldn’t be much fun on the beach in the mizzle, after all. Her mind flicked back to Jack and that girl at the wedding party. Had she stayed over with him last night? It was like a riddle she didn’t want to solve. Why on earth was she even bothering to dwell on it? He was just some sad, playboy loser, just like Becky had warned. Lucy slumped back on the pillows, finding herself feeling wrung out.

  Right, this is no good, Lucy thought, rallying. She needed a caffeine fix
, something sweet and sugary, and a bit of friendly banter, and she knew just where to head. She picked up her mobile from the bedside table and texted Becky on the off-chance she might be free.

  Fancy meeting for cake and coffee at Driftwood? Say 11 a.m.? X

  A reply soon bounced back:

  Yeah, okay then. That’ll get me nicely out of some DIY tasks Darren has decided we need to do this morning! I’ll promise to help him this aft, and hopefully most of them will be done by then! X

  Shall we ask Katie too? Lucy typed. Haven’t seen her in ages.

  Yes, of course, that’d be great. X

  And so, at five to eleven, Lucy was wandering along the coastal village street in her red, cheer-you-up rain mac, heading for the comforting aromas of rich, warm coffee and just-baked goodies.

  It was cosy in the café, and Lucy and Becky managed to bag the last table; the one by the front window with a glimpse of sea view, though it was a little misty today.

  Abby was working today, and soon arrived to take their order.

  ‘Hi, ladies. So, what can I get for you?’ The young girl was her usual smiley self.

  ‘Hi, Abby, miserable day isn’t it, we thought we’d best cheer ourselves up with a slice of cake! So, what do you have to tempt us with today?’ Lucy asked, feeling in need of a sugar fix.

  ‘Okay, there’s Driftwood’s ever-popular Sea-salted Caramel Cake, a Victoria Sponge, and yes, Louise has been trying a new recipe out, a Coconut and Lime Cake, which is to die for. I sampled it earlier.’

  ‘Yum, that’s me sold,’ Lucy grinned. ‘Coconut and Lime with a pot of your Northumberland Tea, please.’