Page 75 of Mistletoe and Mulled Wine at the Christmas Campervan

‘I know, I know. But Ruby needs a full overhaul, and there are vintage parts that aren’t easy to find – a whole new front end, for one. I’ve spoken with the garage. It might take months, not weeks, to find a good match. I need to get her put right, or else I don’t have a business to go back to, Luce.’ He sounded despondent; it was all flooding in.

‘Maybe you could try using something else as a bar. Set up a stall, I suppose.’ Lucy realised that sounded feeble.

‘It’s not the same though, is it? Bit soulless that, a bit of tarpaulin and a table. Ruby was so cool. The Cocktail Campervan … it was all about her shiny red charm, the chrome, the lights, her vintage style … her character.’

‘Yeah, she was … is,’ she corrected herself, ‘a real gem.’

There were a few beats of silence between them as they strolled.

‘Anyway, what have you asked Santa for?’ Lucy asked Jack, switching tack as he was beginning to sound a little down.

‘Ah … other than a fully restored Ruby …’ he stalled. In a few days’ time, he’d know if his real Christmas wishes might yet come true. A plan was forming. Everything had been shaken up and settled with new clarity since the accident; like the glittering flakes in a snowglobe. ‘Nothing much really, bits and bobs,’ he continued coyly. ‘Think my parents have done enough with looking after me this past week or so, without having to splash out on any expensive gifts. You?’

‘Oh, I’m not too worried. It’s always nice to get a few little surprises, but Christmas time, well it’s more about being together, seeing the family, and enjoying the day, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, I suppose.’ They walked on, over the damp golden sands, both mulling things over. Daisy stopping to sniff at some seaweed and a crab shell. Jack’s mood had dipped. He looked sombre.

Lucy suddenly had a light-bulb moment, ‘I’ve got it!’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yes, how does a Cocktail Horsebox sound? Just until Ruby’s all fixed up, of course. We can join forces. Some nights as a bar, some as the Pizza Horsebox and hell yes, sometimes both. Let me help you out.’ She was concerned he’d try to rush into working too soon, and make himself more poorly in the long run, but she could keep an eye on him that way, make sure he wasn’t overdoing things. ‘Yeah,’ she continued, feeling buzzy about the idea, ‘for events I’m not booked at, we can take out the oven and use the space for your bar stuff. And, if it’s a joint booking – well, we’ll work it out. I’ll definitely have space for some drinks and things in the pickup. What do you reckon? A bar in a vintage horsebox, that sounds pretty cool too.’ She was delighted with her plan.

Jack was nodding, trying to take it all in.

‘And I’m sure the event organisers would go for it, once we explain. Then you can still keep your existing bookings. Pizza and prosecco, the perfect combination, don’t you think?’ She was feeling animated now. ‘And hey, I bet you’d sell loads of those Morpeth Mules too.’

He frowned for a second, not getting it.

‘Mules, horses, a horsebox.’

‘Hah!’ He laughed. ‘You sure about this, Luce? It sounds a lot for you to take on, too.’

‘Of course I’m sure. And hey, aren’t we a team now? Isn’t that what it’s all about?’

Jack was staring at her. Seemingly thinking.

Had she said too much? Been assuming things again? Are we a team? She began to fret. When he got better, was he actually planning on staying around? Or with Ruby out of action, might his backpacking dreams come back to the fore? Lucy still wasn’t sure.

Jack’s smile then widened. ‘Yeah, Luce, that is actually a great idea.’ And he was almost, almost about to pick her up for a twirl, when he realised that he couldn’t, his outstretched arms dropping swiftly. ‘Ah, no, my ribs and all that … Soon, though.’ And they’d be able to do far more that a beachside twirl too, thank heavens. It had been far too long since he’d been able to share her bed. But he suddenly felt tired; the exercise and the fresh air catching up on him. ‘Can we just sit somewhere for a while, Luce? I’d like that,’ Jack suggested, feeling the strain on his bashed-up body.

‘Okay.’

So, they strolled back up the beach to settle on a large smooth-surfaced rock in a sheltered spot, where they could look out over the expanse of the bay. This was Lucy’s beach at Embleton, and the view here – whatever the season or the weather – was always stunning. Today it was grey sky, grey sea, but not dull in any way at all, with the waves dancing in, in a surge of white froth, and a low rumble like thunder as they broke on the shore. Little grey-and-white seabirds stood dipping their beaks in the sands, the gulls circling above. The air fresh and smelling of salt and sand.

‘Hah, this is where it all started,’ Jack noted, his tone poignant. ‘You and me …’

‘Hah, yes, you and your Morpeth Mule cocktails, getting me tipsy in the sunshine. It was a darned sight warmer that day, mind you.’ Gorgeous happy memories came flooding back. The day it all began … when Jack had surprised her with beachside cocktails, and they’d ended up chatting for hours, sat in the sun-drenched dunes.

‘It was a good day.’ Jack smiled.

‘A very good day.’ Lucy agreed, wistfully.

‘I’m glad you said yes, that you stayed a while that day,’ Jack continued, suddenly sounding thoughtful.

‘Yeah, me too. Oh God yes, do you remember me falling off that put-me-up chair in the dunes?’ She gave a goofy grin.

‘Yep, into my open arms,’ he finished with a broad smile.