Page 9 of The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

‘Luce, you okay?’

‘Yeah, fine. Just, ah, kettle steam … getting in my eyes.’

He nodded, knowing very well she was putting on a front.

‘Okay, well, you’ll just have to show Dad that you can make it work.’

‘Hah, no pressure then!’

‘If anyone can do it, you can, sis.’

‘Thanks, Ol.’

They sat for a while drinking coffee and chatting about their everyday lives – including little Freddie’s latest antics, Olly producing a video clip on his phone of her nephew grinning away whilst being sprayed by the garden hose, fully clothed, which had the two of them in stitches. With a busy day ahead, and shopping in the car, it wasn’t long before Olly had to go, but his words stayed in Lucy’s mind.

Could she really do it? Could she make Papa’s pizzas work, or was her mobile catering idea just pie in the sky?

It’s party time!

Geoff and Hannah Allan

are delighted to invite you to join them in their

Silver Wedding Celebrations

At Foxton Farm, Old Holburn

Saturday 22nd May

Supper, drinks and live music with the Border Busketeers

8 ’til late!

Chapter 5

A couple of weeks later, Jack was steering Ruby into a field beside a country farmhouse – ‘the paddock’ apparently – for a Silver Wedding bash. He’d headed inland, passing through gently rolling hills dotted with grazing sheep and cattle, and stretches of moorland with patches of zingy-yellow gorse bushes, to find the quaint stone-built house. The old farm nestled alongside a couple of old red-tiled barns which had been decorated with festive silver-grey bunting for the occasion.

After a soggy spell, the weather had thankfully dried out at last. So at least Ruby shouldn’t get stuck in the mud, Jack mused, as he parked up on the lush grass. Oh yes, that had happened all too often before! As a couple of other catering vans arrived, one of them being Bob’s Gourmet Burger van, a regular on the Northumbrian mobile catering scene, Jack pondered that there’d been no sign of the pizza horsebox at any of his bookings over the past two weeks. Of course, it was unlikely they’d get booked for the same events all the time, he told himself sagely. After all, it was only occasionally that he worked alongside Bob, or the bubbly forty-something Carrie who was now pulling up in her polka-dot themed Classy Cupcakes touring caravan. But although a large part of him was relieved, another part of Jack had wondered if he might catch up with the dark-haired girl again – Lucy, that was her name. Goodness knows why. Jack remembered her being particularly frosty when they’d met and then there was her little pesky dog peeing all over his sign. But the thought that they might never cross paths again … Well, it left Jack feeling strangely unsettled.

These mental diversions weren’t getting him anywhere. His focus needed to be on tonight’s event and getting his bar ready to roll for the first arrivals. He had a trayful of Silver Martinis to rustle up, and sharpish. They’d pour out a beautiful shade of pale-silver – perfect for the Silver Wedding event. After lifting the lid on Ruby and switching on his globe lights, he set out two cocktail shakers, retrieved the gin, vermouth and orange bitters he needed first, and went about finding his jar of maraschino cherries.

Just as he was setting out his counter display with a row of classic V-shaped martini glasses and a colourful array of fruits and garnishes, Jack happened to look up, spotting a Jeep towing a grey wood-panelled horsebox coming through the five-bar gate. His stomach gave an unexpected flip as he recognised the mass of wavy dark hair and the rather serious-looking face of the driver, who was negotiating the narrow gap. So, they were to meet again.

Jack smoothed down his hair distractedly, and was ready to give a small wave, just as the daughter of the Anniversary Couple appeared beside Ruby to check over a few last-minute arrangements. By the time she’d gone, he’d missed his moment and Lucy had already parked up and was head down, setting up her pizza van.

Both the Cocktail Campervan and All Fired Up had a busy start to the evening, with a constant stream of hungry and thirsty guests arriving. There was a buzz of chatter and laughter as family and friends huddled happily outside, some sitting at a medley of tables and chairs borrowed for the event, and a local folk band started up with a jaunty tune from the shelter of a tipi-style tent. Though it wasn’t his usual taste in music – his favourite bands being The Arctic Monkeys and The Kaiser Chiefs, even if it meant he was a little stuck in his fun and free teenage years – Jack couldn’t help tapping his toes along as he worked.

It was a dry evening but the silver-grey cloud was thickening, making it feel warm and sultry. As dusk began to fall, slowly the lights from the catering venues began to show up like festive fireflies; Ruby’s big fat stage bulbs, along with the horsebox’s trails of delicate white fairy lights, and Carrie’s cakes had strings of pink and blue bulbs, even Bob had a lit-up burger sign on the top of his van roof! Enticing smells of burgers and baking, and warm cheesy-tomato pizzas, filled the air.

Jack glanced over to the horsebox. Pizza girl looked to be working flat out tonight, not having stopped as yet. Despite himself, Jack had taken a few quick looks in that direction in the past hour, seeing her stationed at her oven cooking post. Her cheeks were endearingly rosy, and every now and again she’d pop a strand of errant hair back in its work-mode bun and give a little flustered huff. A constant queue gathered at her homely-presented hatch with its Italian flags and twinkly lights. However cold she’d appeared towards him at the last event, there was something intriguing about her too. Maybe as things quietened down a bit, he might go across and have a quick chat with her, perhaps be a bit more welcoming, have a heart to heart from one business owner to another. Setting up your own venture was hard, but Jack had a fair bit of experience now, having built up his mobile bar business over the past four years. He knew the local catering scene – what events were worthwhile and which to avoid. Okay, so he and Pizza Girl hadn’t got off to the best of starts, but if they were going to be at the same events they’d better learn to rub along.

As dusk began to fall, with smouldering peachy hues and sultry grey clouds darkening above, the music from the tipi began to beat louder, voices were raised, laughter rang out and along with the warm, slightly static evening air there was a sense of vibrancy, of charging electricity. Jack was busy mixing and shaking, chatting and charming. The guests were having a good time, though some perhaps a little too good; with the hosts happy to pay for everything at the bar tonight, a group of younger males were taking advantage and having their fill. Hmm, he’d have to keep a little eye on them. The rowdy group were now jostling around the makeshift dancefloor that was just inside the tipi, pretending to do Riverdance moves. In particular, one thick-set chap was getting carried away and knocking into a few of the couples already dancing. It looked very much like the lads were taking the piss out of the folk band. Jack shook his head, but was then soon distracted by the next bar order.

A tall chap in a smart navy suit leaned against Ruby’s polished-chrome counter top. ‘Hi, do you have a cold bottled lager? And a glass of prosecco or something for the girlfriend.’

‘Of course, I’ve an Italian lager, or can I recommend something more local? The brewery at Wylam do a great lager-beer, perfect for a warm summer’s evening.’ Jack loved to support the local Northumberland breweries and distilleries.

‘Ah, go on then, I’ll give it a try.’