Page 50 of The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

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 aunts, 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.