‘A break,’ Jon said, landing a gentle kiss on her neck. ‘Let’s get away somewhere this weekend.’
‘Are you sure?’ she replied. Normally she’d have jumped at the chance of spending some time alone with Jon. But not now, when there was so much at stake with the new business. ‘But the shop … ’ she started. ‘And what about Alfie?’
‘Mia’s parents are over this weekend and she’s asked if he can stay with her to see them. So the weekend’s free. Imogen can watch the shop, can’t she? You said there are hardly any customers at the moment, didn’t you?’
It was true – yet Jon’s frank words still stung a little. ‘I don’t know … ’ Anna said.
‘Come away with me this weekend, Anna. I’ll book us somewhere. We’ll head off on the Friday evening and have the whole weekend to ourselves. No ice cream shop, no toddlers … just us. How does that sound?’
‘It sounds pretty good,’ she said, snuggling into his embrace. As much as she enjoyed spending time with Alfie, the idea of spending a weekend with Jon on his own had definite appeal. ‘Where do you want to go?’
‘Let me surprise you,’ Jon replied with a smile. ‘Just pack a weekend bag, and be ready.’
On Friday evening, Jon and Anna were cruising down the coastal road, rain pattering on the roof of Jon’s car. Storm clouds had been hanging over them all for more than a week now and the sun seemed no closer to breaking through, but as Anna stretched out her legs she began to feel something she hadn’t felt for months – a little bit relaxed.
The cluttered townscape of Brighton and Hove gave way to Sussex’s rolling hills, lush and green, and the stresses of the past two weeks of slow business started to fade.
‘Hey, dreamer,’ Jon said, glancing over at her, his hands on the steering wheel.
‘Winding down,’ Anna said, with a contented smile. ‘Slowly. There’s been so much to think about lately. What with Granny’s funeral, then the shop … and you busy at work. We’ve hardly had any time just to
be
.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Jon said. ‘But now we’ll have some uninterrupted time together. So get ready for a whole lot more of just
being
,’ he laughed.
Around twenty minutes later they came to the outskirts of a small village, and Jon turned right up a narrow dirt track. In front of them was an avenue of oak trees, and at the end of it stood a grand hotel, in a picturesque Edwardian building.
Anna was transfixed. ‘This place is gorgeous,’ she said, as the car’s tyres crunched against the gravel of the pathway.
Jon smiled. ‘You deserve something special,’ he said, giving her a kiss. ‘Now let’s get our things and go inside.’
They went in through the main entrance, and the receptionist
gave them their keys. Their room was at the top of a steep wooden staircase, and Anna’s excitement built with every step. Jon pushed open the heavy wooden door to their room, to reveal a four-poster bed and a huge sofa, a door to the left leading to a luxurious en-suite bathroom.
Anna went straight over to the bed and gently bounced up and down. ‘This is great,’ she said. ‘Come and try it out.’
Jon put down their suitcases, then settled down beside her. ‘Nice,’ he said. ‘Now, did you remember your bikini? Because there’s a pool and spa downstairs with our names on it.’
‘I don’t need asking twice,’ Anna said. She got up and unzipped her suitcase, getting her swimming things out. Downstairs, they found they had the pool area entirely to themselves.
‘Jacuzzi?’ Anna suggested.
They climbed in and let the water bubble up around them until Anna could barely see Jon through the steam. He reached through the foam and ran a hand up her leg, sending a tingle through her.
‘I could get used to this,’ Anna said, slipping in deeper so that the water warmed the back of her neck.
‘Me too,’ Jon said, with a smile.
‘Reminds me of how it was when we first got together. The blind date, staying out until dawn, nothing to think about but enjoying each other’s company.’
‘You were every bit as lovely as Ed and Jess told me you’d be. I couldn’t believe my luck.’
‘Ah, you charmer,’ Anna laughed. ‘Although to be honest I felt pretty lucky too. It wasn’t a bad result for my first ever blind date.’
‘And there was I,’ Jon said, ‘worried that me being the separated dad of a baby would scare you off. Little did I know you’d be far more smitten with Alfie than me.’
‘You had nothing to worry about. Who wouldn’t fall in love with Alfie?’ Anna said, running a finger through the bubbles on the surface of the water.
‘I’m glad you did,’ Jon said.
‘I love this – being with you,’ Anna said. ‘I wouldn’t change a single thing.’
‘It’ll be up in half an hour,’ Jon said, putting the phone down after ordering room service, and leaning back on the bed. Wind and rain lashed against the hotel-room window, but inside they were warm and cosy. ‘They said they’d leave it outside.’
Anna went to join him, her fluffy white robe wrapped around her. A three-course meal cooked by a Michelin-star chef and they didn’t even have to get dressed to eat it. It was a whole new level of luxury.
Jon gave Anna a kiss, then got up and walked over to the mini-bar. He opened it and pulled out a bottle of champagne. ‘I think it’s time for some fizz,’ he said, getting out two glasses and popping the cork. He passed one to Anna.
‘Wow,’ she smiled, taking it. ‘What’s this in aid of?’
‘Some time alone with my girlfriend,’ he said. He reached
towards her for a kiss, drawing her close. ‘Do I need any other excuse?’
After their kiss, Anna took a sip of champagne, and relished the feeling of the bubbles on her tongue.
‘Ah,’ Jon said. ‘Just realised I’ve forgotten something. Give me a minute.’ He got out of bed and pulled on his trousers and a sweater. ‘Just nipping down to the car.’
‘OK,’ Anna said, a little confused. Didn’t they have everything they needed, right there?
With a wink Jon closed the hotel room door behind him. Anna leaned back against the cushions in bed. Unless it was … ?
Anna looked from the glass of champagne in her hand to the extravagant room they were in – and recalled the romantic moment they’d shared dancing together on Jess and Ed’s big day. Her heartbeat quickened and she took another sip of her drink. He wasn’t going to … was he?
Jon’s mobile rang from the side table, interrupting her thoughts. She peeked out of the window and saw him out in the car park by his car, holding his jacket over his head to shield it from the rain.
Anna looked over at the phone. Mia’s name flashed up. She hesitated. She wouldn’t normally answer it – but what if it was something important?
‘Hello?’ Anna said, picking up.
‘Oh Anna, hi,’ Mia said. ‘That is Anna, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s me,’ Anna said. ‘Jon’s just had to pop out, I’m afraid. Can I pass on a message to him?’
‘Yes, please,’ Mia said, sounding stressed. ‘Look, I’m really sorry about this, I know you two are away this weekend. But it’s Alfie. We were out all day with my parents and now he’s got a raging temperature. He keeps calling for his dad. Could you ask Jon to give me a ring when he gets back?’
‘Poor Alfie,’ Anna said. ‘Of course. I’ll get Jon to call you back right away.’
Perched up on a vintage stool at the ice cream bar, Imogen opened her netbook. She resisted the urge to check Facebook – with the weather still grey and drizzly, seeing her friends on Thai beaches was the last thing she needed. She still couldn’t help wondering what Luca was up to. Over a month now, and not one word.
She refused to dwell on it, though. Today, her search was for
inspiration
. It was time for her and Anna to up their game. It was clear enough from the account books that what they were offering at the shop wasn’t enough to draw the locals away from their regular stops, let alone attract Londoners or other south-coast tourists. It was time to move Vivien’s to the next stage.
She opened Ben and Jerry’s site, and read the story of how they went from small business to global ice cream empire – setting up their first store in a disused petrol station, serving free ice creams to friends and employing a piano player to entertain customers in the long queue for scoops. Now, that was more like it, she thought with a smile. She
glanced around, wondering where they might fit in a baby grand. Perhaps not.
She clicked on a new site – a man who’d set up the world’s first mobile liquid-nitrogen truck, creating flavours from port to Stilton, and experimenting with jellyfish to make glow-in-the-dark ices. It looked like he had customers flocking to him. But instinct told her that quirky innovations and piano-players weren’t going to work for Vivien’s. If the busiest cafés in the Lanes were anything to go by, it was quality food and seasonal ingredients that local people really cared about.
Imogen saw it now – with the right approach, they could make the arches, this remote part of the seafront – a destination venue for gourmet ices. But an afternoon or two in Anna’s kitchen with recipes printed out from the internet definitely wasn’t going to do the trick. Vivien’s needed to offer something special – something that would give it the edge that would put it firmly on the south-coast foodie map. It was time for them to train up.
She browsed through high-end gelateria workshops and courses online and then saw the accompanying price tags. OK, this was going to cost serious money – but they could still afford for one of them to attend. Anna had always been a natural foodie, and her passion could end up being their biggest asset. With some investment, a few days learning the craft, surely Anna would be able to produce quality ice cream with the best of them? Then she could teach Imogen, and they’d both be trained. How hard could it be?
Imogen’s excitement started to build as she scanned details
of a London cookery school – ‘We’ll teach you how to make sorbets, custard-based ices … ’ But where were the creamy, delicious-looking ice creams, the real gelato?
Of course, Imogen thought, tapping her head and laughing out loud at her own ignorance. Italy!
As she typed in the new search terms, a message popped up on her instant messenger.
From:
Santiana
.
She brightened instantly. It had been over a fortnight since she’d heard from her best friend on the island and just seeing her name was a ray of sunshine.
Imogen, hi.
Hello!
Imogen typed back quickly.
How are things? Miss me?
Yes, of course. Different here without you.
Different?
Imogen thought, furrowing her brow. Strange way of putting it. She typed back a reply.
Different how? Boring?
she tapped out.
Lost without your drinking partner and dive buddy?
She stared at the blank screen.
Imo,
came Santiana’s response after a moment,
there’s something I need to explain.
The serious tone of Santiana’s message came as a surprise. Their friendship was simple: they ate together, they swam together, they laughed together. They didn’t have heavy conversations. New lines of text appeared with a ping.
Before you see anything on Facebook
really sorry
Luca and me
Imogen felt like she’d been punched in the stomach.
She opened Facebook in a separate window and clicked through to Luca’s page. She saw the photo on his wall immediately – him and Santiana with their arms round each other, kissing – in the Komodo bar where Luca had once planned to welcome her home.
Luca had said that he’d need time to think – but how did getting off with her supposed best friend come into it?
A new message from Santiana:
Sorry.
Hope we can still be friends when you come back.
Imogen’s hands froze on the keyboard, as she struggled to take in what was happening. This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out.
She heard the shop door swing open and a male voice cut into her thoughts. ‘You on your own today?’
She looked up, and clocked Finn standing in the doorway. ‘Yes, hi, Finn.’
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. What could she possibly say to Santiana? How could she put the way she was feeling right now into words?
‘I just wondered if you wanted help with anything,’ Finn offered. ‘We’ve had no one sign up for classes today, so I have a bit of time on my hands for once.’
‘We’re fine,’ Imogen said, turning back to her netbook, where
Are you OK?
had just popped up on the screen. ‘But thanks. It’s quiet today, but that won’t last,’ she said, forcing a smile. ‘I’m working on some business development ideas.’
‘Sounds interesting.’
‘Yes, yes, it is,’ Imogen said, impatient to end the conversation and get back to the computer.
He smiled apologetically. ‘I get the sense I’m interrupting something.’