Vivien's Heavenly Ice Cream Shop

Read Vivien's Heavenly Ice Cream Shop Online

Authors: Abby Clements

Tags: #General, #Fiction

Cover Page

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Vivien

Imogen

Anna

PART ONE

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

PART TWO

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

PART THREE

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Epilogue

First published in Great Britain in 2013 by

Quercus Editions Ltd
55 Baker Street
7th Floor, South Block
London W1U 8EW

Copyright © 2013 Abby Clements

Shadows Into Light and La Belle Aurore fonts copyright © 2010 Kimberly Geswein
Kaushan Script copyright © 2011 Pablo Impallari and Igino Marini.

The moral right of Abby Clements to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

PB ISBN 978 1 78206 428 2
EBOOK ISBN 978 1 78206 429 9

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

You can find this and many other great books at:
www.quercusbooks.co.uk

Abby Clements
worked in book publishing before she started writing. She lives in north London with her fiancé, and loves lazy Sundays, eighties films and sausage dogs.

Also by Abby Clements

For James

Vívíen

35 Elderberry Avenue, Hove, East Sussex

‘What’s this one, Anna?’ Vivien McAvoy asked, sitting forward in her velvet armchair and looking at the cake in front of her.

‘Cherry and almond. Bit of an experiment, but I thought you might like it.’

Anna cut a slice of the home-made cake for her grandmother. She’d spent all morning baking but knew it would be worth it when she saw the look on Vivien’s face.

Vivien accepted the plate gratefully and took a bite. ‘My, oh my, Anna,’ she smiled. ‘You’ve excelled yourself this time.’

‘Phew,’ Anna said. ‘I’m glad. It’s a new recipe, as I say, so you’re my guinea pig.’

‘Always an honour,’ Vivien said, taking another forkful. Her silver-grey hair was loosely pinned back and she was wearing a smart burgundy dress with a diamond print on it and a cream cardigan. Sunlight filtered in through the
ground-floor bay windows of her house and cast a warm glow over the room.

Anna took a slice of cake for herself and a few crumbs scattered onto the floor. Her grandmother’s dachshund, Hepburn, scurried over to the Persian rug.

‘Cheapest kind of Hoover, he is,’ Vivien laughed. The black-and-tan sausage dog had been a steady fixture by her grandmother’s side for over eight years. Vivien had named him after her favourite film star, refusing to be swayed by a little detail like gender.

‘You should hire him out,’ Anna said.

Movement in Vivien’s front garden caught Anna’s eye and she turned round to see a large man standing by the hedge, surrounded by daffodils.

‘Who’s that in your garden?’ Anna asked, peering forward to get a better look through the window.

‘Oh, that’s Tomasz,’ Vivien said, barely looking up from her cake.

‘Tomasz?’

‘He’s a friend. He and his wife Rebecca are staying here for a while.’

‘You don’t stop, do you?’ Anna said, shaking her head with a smile.

‘What?’ Vivien said, looking up, her blue eyes shining. ‘Being human?’

Anna laughed. ‘Now, don’t tell me, they came into the ice cream shop and …’

‘Lovely couple – never had more than a few coppers they’d collected for tea, but always polite and kind.’

The story was a familiar one to Anna and her family. Vivien was known for collecting waifs and strays, helping local people out, and supporting the community. As if he could hear them through the glass, Tomasz turned and gave Vivien a wave and a smile, which she returned cheerfully. ‘A really genuine chap, he is,’ she said. ‘Anyway, where was I?’ she continued. ‘One day I was closing up and I saw Tomasz and his wife walking into one of the disused arches further down towards Hove. I asked him about it the next day, and he told me they were sleeping there.’

‘That’s awful,’ Anna said. ‘It must be so damp, and those places aren’t secure at all.’

‘I know. They didn’t even have a proper sleeping bag between them. Came to this country ready to work, looking for a better life, and instead … well. Anyway, they’re staying upstairs and earn their keep better than any paying lodger could.’

‘It looks like it,’ Anna said, watching Tomasz sawing down a heavy overhanging branch that Vivien had been concerned about for months.

‘Rebecca has been helping me with some of the filing upstairs, too. I’ll be sorry to see them go. There’s too much space here for just me, and you know I’m happier when there are other people around.’

‘When are they leaving?’

‘Next week. A room’s come up with a friend of theirs, and Tomasz has had a lead for a construction job.’

‘The revolving doors of Elderberry Avenue,’ Anna said. ‘I wonder who’ll be next.’

‘If life’s taught me anything,’ Vivien laughed, ‘it’s that you can never guess that. The ice cream shop has always brought me new friends, and surprises.’

‘How’s it been lately,’ Anna asked, ‘at the shop?’

‘Oh, ticking along. Like always,’ Vivien said with a smile.

The seafront ice cream shop, Sunset 99s, was a local landmark: it had been around since the mid-1950s, and Vivien herself was well known across Brighton. At times the shop had thrived, but Anna got the sense that lately business had started to slow, with people as likely to stop by for a chat as buy anything. With organic smoothie shops and upmarket cafés springing up all over town, Anna often thought it was something of a miracle that the shop was still going.

‘Actually I’m taking a breather at the moment,’ Vivien said. ‘A week, perhaps two. Sue, my new assistant, I’ve left her to keep an eye on the place. She’s not had the easiest of times lately, with her son Jamie going into prison, and then her losing her job at the Co-op – she’ll look after the place well, I’m sure.’

‘Dad will be happy to hear that you’re taking a break,’ Anna said. ‘I suppose there’s still no chance of you deciding to retire?’

‘Of course not,’ Vivien said, shaking her head dismissively. ‘Retire and do what? That shop’s been my life for so long I
wouldn’t know what to do with myself. I’ve got my friends down there, Evie next door, and that nice young man, Finn. A week or two to recharge my batteries, that’s all I need. Sue’ll keep things shipshape.’

‘OK, well, I hope you use the time to rest,’ Anna said. She resolved to pop by the shop and introduce herself to Sue as soon as things quietened down at work. It had been a while since she had last visited.

‘I will,’ Vivien said. ‘Although just you try and stop me coming to have a look at your new flat. When are you moving in?’

Anna beamed at the thought. ‘I’m picking up the keys next Saturday.’

‘That’s wonderful. And will Jon be moving in the same day?’

‘Yes,’ Anna said, ‘he’ll be there.’

‘I look forward to seeing it,’ Vivien said, reaching down to stroke Hepburn, who was curled up on the rug by her feet. ‘We’re pleased that you’ll be moving a bit nearer, aren’t we, Hepburn?’ The dog rolled onto his back, exposing his bare belly and inviting her to tickle him.

‘You’ll like it. There’s a nice window seat,’ Anna said, recalling the view from her top-floor flat, taking in the horizon and the bright lights of Brighton Pier. The sound of the wind whistling against it made the flat feel even cosier, protected from the elements.

‘Sounds perfect,’ Vivien said. ‘I already like the place, because you’ll be just around the corner.’

‘I will. And of your two favourite granddaughters, you may have to make do with just me for a while. Doesn’t sound like Imogen’s coming home any time soon.’

‘She enjoys it, doesn’t she?’ Vivien said. ‘The travelling life. I got a nice postcard from her the other day, with a picture of a golden Buddha on it. Reminds me of your father. Always has. Free spirits, those two.’

‘It sounds like she’s having a ball, taking loads of photos – she had a hard time looking for a job here after uni, and I think it was what she needed.’

‘I do like it when she sends me her photos. I always loved hearing about your father’s adventures through India, Asia – it was quite a thing in those days. On that lumbering great motorbike of his,’ Vivien said with a smile. ‘And now we have Imogen’s updates to keep us entertained.’

‘How is Dad?’ Anna asked. She’d been so busy at her marketing job for Brighton Pavilion, and finalising the flat purchase, that she hadn’t called her parents for a couple of weeks.

‘Oh, he’s well. He rang this morning as a matter of fact. He’s finished work on one of his new sculptures – a heron, this one. It’s just gone in the kiln. I asked if he could make another one for my garden pond, so that’s next on his list.’

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