The Heavenly Italian Ice Cream Shop (3 page)

‘Anna!’ Imogen’s voice carried through from the café. ‘Hurry up, I’m starving out here.’

‘And a few other things,’ Matteo said, laughing.

‘We’ll make time soon,’ Anna said, touching Matteo’s face affectionately.

When Anna came back over to where her sister was sitting, she saw that their mum, Jan, had joined them.

‘Hi, Mum,’ Anna said, giving her a hug. Jan kissed Bella and brought her up onto her hip.

‘How’s my favourite grandchild?’ Jan asked.

‘Good,’ Anna said. ‘She’s had a great morning out with Imogen by the beach. Plenty of fresh air.’

Bella gurgled contentedly.

‘I’ll take her over to the guesthouse this afternoon,’ Jan said. ‘Your dad’s up there in the garden at the moment and I know he’s longing to see her.’

‘Thanks, Mum,’ Anna said. ‘How’s everything going over there?’

‘Good, I think,’ Jan said. ‘A little slow, for my liking, but your uncle Martin has done so well with converting the bedrooms.’

In recent months, the whole family had had another project to focus on – Anna and Imogen’s uncle Martin was busy converting Vivien’s Victorian home into a seaside guesthouse, due to open in the early spring. Their dad and mum were helping out, although their dad still seemed a little hesitant about it all. While he’d been a tearaway in his youth, motorcycling through Asia and embarking on artistic projects, as he’d got older, and with the death of his parents, change had become more difficult for him.

‘Has Dad been very involved?’ Imogen asked.

‘Not really,’ Jan said. ‘But you know how it is. He’ll get there.’

When Vivien died, they’d all been deeply affected. Tom had always been close to his mother, seeing her regularly, and talking to her whenever he could – and it was he who felt her sudden loss most keenly. He’d needed the space to mourn her in peace, but, instead, he was being pressured to make difficult decisions about her estate. Martin’s ex-wife Françoise, a headstrong woman with little time for the inconvenience of emotions, had put them all through additional stress that summer. She’d insisted that Martin sell the family home in Elderberry Avenue in Hove swiftly, driving a wedge between Martin and Tom – and then she’d done everything in her power to undermine Anna and Imogen’s takeover of the ice cream shop. She had had her own designs on Vivien’s legacy, and her attempts to grasp more of the inheritance for her and Martin had caused Tom to internalise his grief.

Increasingly estranged from his brother, and being forced into making decisions he disagreed with, Imogen and Anna’s father had sunk into depression. Jan, accustomed to his being her rock, struggled to adjust to the new situation, and felt unable to support him. Imogen had discovered him at his lowest ebb, locked in his garden studio, having broken some of his treasured sculptures in a moment of deeply felt frustration and grief. She’d spoken to him through the locked door, and in time, they saw the glimmers of a fragile recovery.

Small things had helped – they’d scattered Vivien’s ashes in the sea, so they all had a place to think of her now. Each of them found time to spend a moment alone in quiet contemplation by the stretch of sea that Vivien had chosen as her final resting place. By the end of the summer, as Finn and Imogen had left for Thailand, Tom and Jan had found their way back together, with a different balance to their relationship. With her daughters’ guidance, Jan had started to understand that she was capable of being there for her husband, and she’d been instrumental in getting Tom onto the right treatment. When Martin realised the full extent of his wife’s destructive behaviour, he took the decision to break up with her, get divorced and come home to England. He had wanted to live in Elderberry Avenue, but not alone; the idea for the guesthouse then came about.

Now, with Tom stronger in himself, the family’s hope was that the ice cream shop and the guesthouse would provide a lasting legacy that he could look to whenever he missed his mother. Already, Tom and Martin had regained the friendship as brothers that they’d once had, before things went wrong.

Matteo brought Imogen over her waffle, and kissed Jan hello. ‘Tea?’ he asked her.

‘Thanks, but no. I won’t stay long,’ Jan said.

‘Great, I’ve been dreaming about one of these,’ Imogen said, taking a forkful of the dessert.

‘Really?’ Anna said. ‘You were out in Zanzibar and you were thinking about waffles?’

‘OK, not the whole time.’ Her sister laughed. She’d got back from the work trip two days earlier, and her mind was still partly there, in the heat and vivid colour. ‘God, it was beautiful out there. The plants, the animals . . . Incredible. I was up at dawn getting as many shots as I could.’

‘Up at dawn? You?’ Jan said, incredulous.

‘Yes, I was, Mum –
actually
.’ Imogen rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Her mother still had the power to wind her up like no one else around, but in general things between them had eased a lot since Imogen settled back in Brighton. But even with Tom’s backing of his younger daughter’s career, Jan had her reservations about it.

Imogen went on. ‘I got most of the shots the travel company wanted in the first couple of days, so I was able to use the rest of the time to build up my portfolio.’

‘What’s next, then?’ Jan asked.

‘Do you remember I mentioned the Brazilian project, the woman who spent years studying a colony of pink dolphins and is now publishing a book about it?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Anna said. ‘That sounded wonderful.’

‘Well, of course it does. Who doesn’t like an exotic holiday?’ Jan said. ‘But really—’

‘Come on, Mum.’ Anna nudged her.

Imogen studiously ignored her mother’s comment. ‘Well, I spoke with Sally, the author, and she seems to think it’s almost certain that I’ll get to go on the final research trip with her – we’re just waiting on the final details,’ Imogen said. ‘I’m going to swing by Lauren’s studio now and develop some of the Zanzibar photos in her darkroom. I’m meeting with Sally again in a couple of weeks and I want to be able to show her some prints.’

‘The way things are going you’ll need your own darkroom soon,’ Anna said.

‘Hopefully. Money’s still a bit erratic for that.’

‘Well, if you would listen—’ Jan started.

‘Mum, didn’t you say you needed to be getting back to the guesthouse?’ Imogen said.

‘Grandpa!’ Bella called out gleefully.

‘Oh, right, yes,’ Jan said, checking the time. ‘I did tell Tom I wouldn’t be long. I’ll see you ladies later.’ She kissed them both goodbye. ‘I’ll drop her back at six,’ she told Anna.

When Jan and Bella had left the café, Imogen resumed her story.

‘God, she’s never going to believe I’ve got a proper job, is she?’ she said to Anna, laughing. ‘Anyway, as I was saying . . . Lauren’s been great about letting me use the stuff at her studio.’

‘Listen, before you disappear off again, to Lauren’s, or wherever else is next on your agenda, how do you and Finn fancy coming around for dinner on Sunday night?’ Anna asked.

‘So we can whisper over glasses of wine in your front room, trying not to wake Bella up?’ Imogen said, raising an eyebrow. ‘On Valentine’s Day?’

Anna bit her lip. ‘Ha! Oops! I completely forgot . . . Well, I totally understand if you two have something more romantic to do.’

‘Of course we don’t,’ Imogen said. ‘It’d be fun to hang out with you. Seven thirty?’

‘Perfect. It’s a date,’ Anna said.

Matteo passed Anna, carrying a plate, smiling hello to Imogen and pointing out of the window at a crowd of tourists approaching the shop. ‘It looks like it’s about to get busy,’ he said.

‘He’s right,’ she said to her sister. ‘I’d better get back to work.’

‘And there you were, worrying about a quiet winter season.’

‘I know. It’s been the opposite, thankfully,’ Anna said. ‘Our only issue is keeping up.’ Anna took a second to retie her chestnut hair in a ponytail. ‘Does that look OK?’

Imogen smiled. ‘Yes. Just one thing.’ She reached up and wiped a finger by Anna’s mouth. ‘Chocolate sauce.’

‘Ha! Thanks. No idea how long I had that there.’ Anna laughed. ‘New recipe. I was quality-control testing with Matteo this morning.’

‘At times like this, I almost miss working here,’ Imogen said.

Chapter 2

In the dim red light of Lauren’s darkroom, Imogen stood back to look at her freshly developed photos from Zanzibar. For now, she had to imagine the colours – she could still recall the lushest greens and brightest citrus tones – but, from what she could see, they had turned out really well.

Getting away had re-energised her, as it always did, bringing inspiration and igniting her adventurous spirit. And now, back in England, the flowers and animals she’d seen were coming to life again.

She rarely missed Finn when she went away, or when she did it was only fleetingly – her trips were so short, and she kept herself so busy that she barely had time to. But, when she’d come back to find him waiting for her in the arrivals hall at Gatwick, her heart had lifted. Kissing him, chatting on the way home in the car, and catching up on what they had both been up to, she’d felt a piece of her slip back into place. Her phone buzzed with a new message.

‘
Surf at sunset? x
’.

His message made her smile. She tapped back a reply.

‘
See you at 4.30 down at the arches x
’.

Imogen went out into the studio, skirting quietly past the shoot Lauren was doing of a young couple with their Pekinese dog.

It was great, Imogen thought, that Lauren, a schoolfriend she’d recently reconnected with, had her own studio now, and that she got so much session work – even more so that she enjoyed it. Just the thought of days spent cooped up indoors snapping photos of newborns and pets made Imogen feel stifled. All of those staged scenes and uncooperative children and canines – rather Lauren than her. After struggling at school, and a long search for work after college, Imogen was finally getting the kind of work she was most passionate about.

That afternoon, after she left Lauren’s studio in the north laines, Imogen walked down to the arches for the second time that day. This time she passed Vivien’s and carried on walking, past the souvenir shop run by their grandmother’s friend Evie, and on to Finn’s surf school. Inside, Finn was closing up with his friend and business partner Andy.

‘Hey, Andy,’ Imogen called out.

‘The traveller returns,’ Andy said, brightly.

Imogen kissed Finn hello.

‘He’s missed you loads, you know,’ Andy teased.

‘Ahh,’ she said, turning to her boyfriend. ‘Is that true?’

‘Don’t believe a word of it,’ Finn said.

‘He was unbearable, moping around the place,’ Andy said.

‘So, you all set?’ Finn asked, throwing his friend a stern look.

‘Ready.’ Imogen nodded.

She looked at the boxes of surf equipment that were filling up the room Finn and Andy used for tuition, before they took the students out. ‘You’re kind of outgrowing this place, aren’t you?’

‘That’s what we were just talking about,’ Andy said. ‘We’ve had a lot of demand from students to sell boards and equipment, but we just haven’t got the space for it here.’

‘Victims of your own success,’ she said warmly.

Imogen and Finn left, and headed over to his van.

‘Maybe you should think about expanding,’ Imogen said, looking back at the shop. Finn had set the surf school up a decade before, when he was in his mid-twenties and long before he’d met Imogen, and in the past couple of years business had really picked up. The surf school was located a couple of doors away from Vivien’s Heavenly Ice Cream Shop, in one of the arches on the seafront in Hove, a stretch of shops and cafés with a warm, friendly atmosphere. The shop owners – Anna and Matteo, Finn, Evie, who ran the souvenir shop, and an assortment of others – regularly met up and helped each other out. They would bring each other hot drinks and snacks and stop by to chat. In the summer the place really came to life, with parties on the bandstand, barbecues and fundraising fairs for local charities – the community spirit that Vivien and Evie had invested so much in over the years was still going strong.

‘If we did expand, where would we go, though?’ Finn said. ‘I wouldn’t want to move, but everyone here at the arches has settled in for good.’

‘There must be somewhere,’ Imogen said, mulling it over.

They got into the van, and Finn drove down the main coastal road out of town. As the hazy winter sun lowered in the sky, they headed towards their regular beach, a secluded cove a half-hour outside town.

She looked out of the window at the sandy cove they were approaching. ‘We’re going to be the only ones out there today. Perfect.’

Finn parked and she leaped out of the passenger-side door. Together they got their surfboards down from the roof of the van, then slipped on their wetsuits.

‘Race you,’ Imogen called out, already running with her board. Finn caught up with her as they hit the waves and brought her down into the water. She emerged from the surf spluttering and laughing. ‘Get out there, then, and let’s see what you can do.’

Finn paddled far out into the sea, but Imogen stayed closer to the shore, and stopped and waited for the right wave to come. She wasn’t tempted to compete – Finn had been surfing since he was a kid and she had only been doing it for a couple of years, since she’d met him. She was content that she was no longer learning from him – he’d taught her the basics but after that she’d taught herself, responding to the ocean’s ebbs and flows, guided by nature, the ocean something she knew well from diving. Going deep underwater, diving and taking photos of the sea life and coral, had once been her only way of experiencing the sea – and down there she was the one taking the lead, showing Finn the way.

She dipped her head underwater until her face, neck and hair were totally immersed, the freshness of the water waking her senses. Finn was just a dot in the distance. She took in a lungful of sea air and caught a wave, popping up to her feet swiftly and skilfully. She rode into shore, barely feeling the cold air as she was caught up in the buzz of it. Knowing Finn was out there, somewhere, thinking of her, made her feel she was capable of anything.