The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

by Caroline Roberts

  As Lucy lay down in her bed, crumpling the duvet over her, her sheets, the pillows, still smelled of him … of them.

  No more messages had come through since that one in reply, and he hadn’t called her.

  A tear crowded her eye, even though she told herself to be patient, that it was early days yet; he’d only left her bed this morning. Still, she knew instinctively that something was wrong in all this. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed and so very confused.

  Haltingham Village Fete

  Saturday 7th August

  12 noon to 6 p.m.

  Local Crafts, Plant and Cake Stalls,

  Tombola, Raffle

  Bouncy Castle, Face Painting and Fun for the Kids!

  Free Entry!

  Chapter 36

  It was a blue-sky Saturday in early August, and the day of the Haltingham village fete. Lucy had driven through the winding country lanes of the Tyne Valley, passing several hikers and a scenic section of the historic Hadrian’s Wall en route. The Wall, built hundreds of years ago, stretched from coast to coast – ancient armies had marched there, Romans set up camp, built fortresses, lived, loved and battled there, and now ramblers trailed. The Northumberland hills rolled, and the horsebox meandered; Lucy had given herself plenty of time.

  She was soon pulling into the pretty rural village of honey-coloured stone-built houses and cottages, where All Fired Up was booked in at the Summer Festival.

  Troughs and baskets were filled with bold summer blooms; pinks, purples, and vivid yellows in abundance. Each cottage and house taking pride in adding their own floral tribute to the event. The village was strung with colourful bunting, which flapped gently and prettily on the breeze. There were at least twenty stalls and eateries there setting up – cakes, bakes, an ice cream van, tombola and more.

  Oh blimey, Lucy’s heart gave a lurch when she looked up and spotted who was also about to park on the village green. Yep, the vintage red colours of campervan Ruby glinted in the summer sunshine. At least Jack wasn’t able to pull up next to her, as those spaces had already been taken by Kate’s Coffee and a fish and chip van. Lucy let out a small sigh, realising she’d been holding her breath for a few seconds – it was inevitable that she and Jack would meet at the same event sooner or later.

  It had been twelve days now, and all her fears after that seemingly special night had proved to be right. Jack had never bothered to answer the next three messages Lucy had since sent, nor the two phone calls she’d tried to make. Jack Anderson had well and truly ducked out. Used her for a one-night stand. He must have set up all that so-called romantic cocktails and canapés stuff on the beach just to get his leg over. And Lucy had gone and fallen for it, hook line and sinker. She felt so bloody annoyed with herself for being such a pushover. Her blood was boiling again at the thought of it. Well, no more.

  An hour later, and the pizza horsebox was ready, with the oven lit, the counter top all set up and a strand of Lucy’s colourful Italian-flag bunting stretched out along the hatch. It should, hopefully, be a busy and profitable day, being a pay-as-you-go event. She was on her own today and just had to focus and keep herself occupied; with head down and sense of pride up.

  Thankfully, there was a steady queue for her pizzas as soon as the festival kicked into gear at noon. The margherita and new topping flavour, spicy nduja – a gorgeous Italian spicy sausage – were going down really well. It was a hot summer’s day, and Lucy had a bit of a sweat on, bustling about multi-tasking and making up orders, then standing by the oven turning pizzas with her paddle. But that wasn’t the only reason she was feeling uncomfortable. Every now and again, she’d take a sidelong glance across at Jack, who was over the other side of the green, shaking cocktails, serving and chatting to many a girl, with his trademark cocky smile in place. God, how she’d like to slam a hot tomato-sauced pizza right into that charming face of his. That would wipe the grin off of it for once.

  ‘A pesto chicken pizza please, love, when you’re ready.’

  ‘Oh right, yes, of course.’ She hadn’t noticed the chap in the baseball cap arrive at the counter. ‘Coming right up.’ She forced a smile.

  Jack glanced over to the pizza horsebox. His heart still felt raw. He’d half thought of ducking out of today’s event, but that was no good, that was the coward’s way, and he knew they’d have to face each other at some point.

  Every message from her had twisted his gut. The beach night … he’d loved surprising her, thinking of things to make her evening special, to make her smile, but he hadn’t expected it all to move so quickly. And he certainly hadn’t planned that it would all feel so damn intense. The morning after, his instinct had been to run, call a halt to it all.

  But now, looking at Lucy, instead of that making him feel better, he felt downright rotten. The guilt had been gnawing at him ever since he’d left her cottage. He’d told himself over and over, since then, that keeping his distance was best for the both of them. If he couldn’t commit, then he could at least try not to hurt her anymore. He just had to see it through, then things might get easier … in time.

  Much to his relief, Jack’s work was cut out for him throughout the afternoon, with him mixing summer cocktails galore: gin fizzes, Pimm’s, chilled prosecco, along with draught lagers and bottled ales. He was also making fancy fresh juices, and his elderflower fizz and ‘No-jito’ mocktails aplenty to cool the thirsty gathering.

  Concentrating on the job in hand, it was a bolt from the blue when, at around 2 p.m., he looked up to see … that the next people in the queue were his parents. He was astounded. They’d never been to any of his events before. To be fair, most bookings were at private houses or party venues, but today’s fete, well, he’d mentioned it to them in passing, but hadn’t ever imagined they’d turn up. They’d never seemed overly keen to see him in action with Ruby, his Cocktail Campervan, in the past.

  ‘Hey, hi, Mum, Dad. What are you doing here?’ He still wondered if they were there by chance, or perhaps and most likely en route to some other occasion or outing.

  ‘We’ve come to see you.’ His mum smiled.

  ‘Yeah,’ his dad Simon took up, ‘we wanted to see Ruby up and running. See how this cocktail thing works when you are out and about.’

  It had been years he’d been working with Ruby … they could easily have come before, but he didn’t want to mess up this historic moment with a cheeky remark. ‘Well, great. Good! Can I get you anything while you’re here? Mix you a summery cocktail, Mum? A cold beer for you, Dad?’

  ‘A beer would be fantastic.’

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure. I don’t want to risk a headache, drinking in the day.’

  ‘No worries, I do mocktails and juices. What about a refreshing pineapple and lime soda?’

  ‘Go on then, yes, that sounds delightful.’

  While he was fixing their drinks, unable to suppress his surprised smile, his dad was checking out Ruby. ‘She looks good son, the campervan, all very professional.’

  ‘It’s so pretty, Jack, I never imagined it all set out like this.’

  Jack felt a surge of joy. His parents were actually here … and praising his business.

  He passed their drinks across with a grin. ‘Thanks. And enjoy!’

  ‘Thank you, son.’ Dad was fumbling in his pocket for his wallet.

  ‘Don’t be so daft, I’ll not take any money from you. I’m just chuffed you’re here.’

  There seemed to be a lot still unsaid between them, yet actions spoke louder than words. They were here in support, and that meant so much to Jack. He might not be a lawyer or a doctor, but he had a business that was doing well, and that he loved. Perhaps his parents might start to see that for themselves from now on.

  A couple came forward asking for two Lemon Gin Fizzes. Jack’s parents stood back and watched him chat with the customers whilst mixing, shaking and garnishing their cocktails. They couple soon left, happily sipping their drinks, with the bloke turning to say, ‘
This is amazing, mate. Cheers.’

  ‘You’re welcome, and have a great afternoon.’

  A few more customers came and went. Mum went off to browse a couple of stalls, mocktail in hand. Dad stood enjoying his beer, watching his son at work, whilst soaking up a few rays of sunshine.

  There was another lull, and his parents again approached the counter, Mum passing back her empty glass and Dad his bottle.

  ‘That was just the ticket, thanks son.’

  ‘The pineapple drink was delicious. Thank you. I’ll have to get the recipe from you and make it for Mary when she next calls round.’

  ‘Right, well I suppose we’d better be off then. Let you get on here,’ Dad took up.

  They said their goodbyes, ready to leave. Jack was still stunned yet delighted by their arrival. It was then his dad looked up … at Jack, framed by Ruby and his cocktail bar. He stopped, gave a small cough, and said, ‘Well done. We are proud of you, son.’

  And that meant the world to Jack.

  Meanwhile back at the horsebox, the time had thankfully passed quickly for Lucy, with a steady stream of hungry customers lured in by the mouth-watering aromas of Papa’s pizza recipe. It was early evening already, and the festival was coming to a close with a charity raffle in aid of the local hospice. Lucy had bought some tickets earlier. Local families, tourists, young and old, were gathered on the village green. Children stood clutching some treasured new toy, bought or won at one of the many stalls, or frantically licked at drippingly-delicious ice-cream cornets (a last treat for the day). Most of the visitors looked like they’d had a lovely afternoon, with just one or two sets of parents appearing a little frazzled by this point. The raffle winners were announced and various organisers thanked, and the remaining crowd gave a round of cheerful applause. The church bells rang out thereafter, announcing 6 p.m., and it was time to head home, or indeed pack up, for the stall-holders. Lucy was delighted that she’d sold almost all of almost all her pizza bases; her cash tin was happily full.

  And right then, the person she’d been trying to avoid all afternoon was heading her way. Her stomach took a dive. Lucy tried to keep her cool, determined not to say a word about the unanswered texts and calls, about the poor way he had acted in all this, but it had been brewing inside her all day. In fact, for the past twelve days, ever since the night he’d stayed over. Why in fact, should he get away with treating her like this? Why give her the impression that their friendship, that night, had meant something special, and then do the disappearing act?

  ‘Hey,’ Jack said softly, giving a cautious smile, having decided to bite the bullet and come across. If this was going no further between them, he had to at least speak with Lucy. He had to show her that respect. He knew that he’d ducked out for long enough.

  ‘Hi, stranger.’ Her tone was loaded with a sarcasm that couldn’t disguise her hurt.

  ‘Busy afternoon?’ he continued, ignoring the dig.

  So, this is it, Lucy fumed. The first time they had seen each other in person since that day, and they were back to small talk. No acknowledgment that they’d spent a night together, that anything significant had happened between them at all.

  Lucy had had enough … She didn’t care if anyone overheard, that people were still there on the green. ‘What’s going on, Jack?’ she hissed. ‘I’ve had no texts at all from you. You don’t bother to answer my calls … All that effort you made with that picnic on the beach … and then afterwards …’ The words hung sharply, forcing memories between them. ‘I-I thought what we had was good. Like we were really getting on. Like it was more than just that one night of casual sex.’ Lucy’s frustrations and disappointment spilled out.

  A couple who were walking past looked across, intrigued, then proceeded on slowly, no doubt still trying to listen in.

  ‘Yeah, it was good … of course,’ Jack answered flatly, giving away no emotion. ‘We had fun Luce, no doubt about that but … But I just think we could cool it, no need to jump into anything, you know?’ He looked sheepish, busy staring at something near his shoe.

  Cool it. Oh, yes, worm your way into my bed and my heart, and then just go and bugger off. Typical!

  So, classic ‘player’ Jack was back, then. The proof was standing there right in front of her. She’d just been another notch on his bedpost. Arrrgh, why, oh why, had she not listened to the voice of reason that had been knocking away in her mind, or to close friend Becky’s advice?

  The village green was emptying out; this might be Lucy’s last chance to air all this. Frustration and anger were stirring up her emotional outpouring: ‘So, that’s it? I was just like the rest of them, eh? Someone for you to pick up and drop just as quickly?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t like that …’ Jack frowned.

  ‘So, what was it like? It doesn’t look any different from where I’m standing. Dammit, I should have known better. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. It’s the way you always are with women, Jack. One night, maybe two if they’re really lucky, and then bumph, you disappear.’

  Jack was on the defensive now, ‘Well, at least I never made any false promises to those girls, Luce. Never pulled out engagement rings, didn’t talk of getting married. Nothing like that.’

  Liam was dragged to mind with that comment. Her private confession to Jack now spilling out. It was a cheap hit.

  ‘Well, let’s face it, you’d never be able to commit to such a thing,’ Lucy blasted back. She certainly was all fired up now.

  ‘Okay,’ Jack said fiercely, ‘so some of my past relationships might have been fly-by-night things. Others, maybe a month or so.’

  ‘God, you actually managed a whole month, did you? She must have been special,’ Lucy couldn’t resist the dig.

  Jack just gave her a look, raising one eyebrow. ‘But I never promised anything, that’s not my way. Anyway, all that was years ago …’

  ‘Hah, you could have fooled me.’

  ‘Like I already told you, I was young, Luce. And yes, back then, I probably did act like a dick.’

  ‘Or was ruled by one,’ she fired back.

  He gave a wry smile, at that. God, she looked bloody gorgeous when she was angry.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ He put his hands up, as though giving in. ‘I was hurting,’ his tone changed, ‘and yes, I was selfish back then. But you know, women do that too. There are lots of women happy with the one-night stand thing.’

  ‘Well, Becky certainly wasn’t …’ And, she certainly hadn’t been, Lucy admitted to herself.

  A moment or two of silence hung between them.

  He was so bloody exasperating. But in some ways, Lucy had to begrudgingly concede that he was right. Was it their expectations in the way – Becky’s, hers – not anything he’d in fact promised?

  But then Lucy remembered that girl, the tipsy one, the one who Jack shovelled into his campervan at the end of the village wedding do. What had she witnessed that night? She’d been trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. But now, given the way he’d treated her, that really didn’t seem innocent at all.

  She launched back in, unable to quell the burning anger in her veins. ‘Okay, so what about that girl who fell over tipsy that night of the wedding event? How did you treat her, eh Jack?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ he shot back, angrily.

  ‘The one you scooped up, bundled into the campervan and took home. That poor girl had had far too much to drink.’

  ‘Well, that’s just what I did …’ He frowned as he spoke, ‘I took her home.’

  Jeez, he was so bloody blasé about it, too. ‘Well, that says it all, doesn’t it? Bet that didn’t last more than one night either.’

  ‘Luce, what are you banging on about? I just said I took her home. To her home.’ He spelled it out.

  ‘Oh.’ His tone and the look on his face made her stop her rant.

  ‘She was an old school friend, Freya. So, what … you thought …? You are joking me, Luce. You think I’d take her back to mine in a state like
that, to take advantage of her or something? I can’t believe you think that badly of me.’ It was Jack’s turn to feel affronted, and rightly so. ‘Her so-called friends had buggered off, and I just made sure she got home safely. Not that I have to justify myself to you.’

  ‘Oh … Jack, I’m sorry. It just looked like …’ Lucy’s voice trailed. She had got this so wrong.

  ‘Well, if you believe I’m that much of a low-life, that just confirms that there’s not much hope for you and me at all.’

  And with that, he stormed off, back to Ruby, slamming the camper van’s door.

  Leaving Lucy with an even more battered heart than she’d started with.

  Chapter 37

  But Jack didn’t go home, not for long anyhow. He parked up on Matt’s driveway, gave Ruby a thorough post-event clean, grabbed a few camping items, and set off again, stopping at the local mini-mart for a few essential food purchases. He headed off for the hills of the Scottish borders, which were just over half an hour’s drive away. Remote moorland valleys, where you could easily find yourself alone. Where you could stroll, letting the mountain air fill your lungs, clear your head, and watch the late-night sun go down in a blaze of gold, dipping down over the magenta crags of the horizon. Well, that was the plan. It certainly had to be better than sitting in his room watching TV or scrolling through Instagram … or dwelling on the bloody row he’d just had with Lucy.

  He parked the campervan up at a remote beauty spot in a valley, then walked the hillside with his tent and camping gear on his back. The climb was invigorating, but now he’d stopped and set up camp, his plan not to think about Lucy was failing miserably. She seemed to creep back into the spaces in his head at every opportunity; when he was working, when he was lying in bed trying to sleep, when he was driving, sat here on a hillside in the middle of nowhere. There was no way he was going to forget her, and he really needed to.