The Heavenly Italian Ice Cream Shop (5 page)

‘Very invigorating, thank you,’ she said, taking a seat up at the counter. ‘Best thing about this time of year is that I seem to have the whole sea to myself.’

Anna laughed. ‘You’re the only one mad enough to go out there, that’s why.’

‘Vivien would have been out there, too, of course, if she were still here. There was no holding your grandma back from her morning swim.’

‘I think she passed that love of wintry waters on to Imogen. Not to me, that’s for sure.’

‘She rescued a boy out there once. Did she ever tell you that?’

‘I didn’t know that, no – what happened?’ That was the thing with Vivien: there had been so many layers to her. Anna was used to hearing snippets and stories from people, lighting up dark corners that she and Imogen had never known about.

‘A young boy, he was, about five – out walking the dog with his parents. When the dog dived into the water, he followed, and the tide dragged him out. His mum and dad couldn’t get far out quickly enough, but Vivien was already out there. Got hold of him and brought him back into shore. The dog came trotting up soon after, totally oblivious to all the trouble it had caused.’

‘That’s amazing,’ Anna said, feeling proud.

‘Made the local paper, that one. I’ve got a cutting somewhere. I’ll dig it out for you.’

‘Please do. Maybe we could get it framed for the guesthouse – Dad would like that. In the meantime, what can I get you to warm you up, Evie?’

‘Do you have any of those pastries left?’

Anna called back into the kitchen. ‘Matteo, are there any more cannoli out there for Evie?’

‘Yes. I’ve got a batch here fresh from the oven,’ he called back.

‘Fantastic,’ Evie said.

‘Would you like an espresso? I know you’re normally more of a tea drinker, but, really, you need coffee with them.’

‘Yes, please,’ Evie said. ‘Although you’ll have to deal with me talking a mile to the minute.’ She laughed warmly.

‘So how are things with the shop?’ Anna said, pressing down the coffee grains and setting up the machine for Evie’s drink.

‘Fine,’ she said quickly. Anna noticed then that the usual brightness in her eyes was absent today, and she looked older, more like the late sixties she really was, rather than the younger woman she so often appeared to be.

Anna saw right away that she wasn’t being completely honest. She raised a questioning eyebrow.

‘Oh, you know how it is, running your own business,’ Evie said. ‘There’s always something to worry about, isn’t there? It’s been giving me grey hairs lately.’ She touched her hair, dyed a pale pink for as long as Anna could remember.

‘Really?’ Anna said, looking at her hair and smiling.

‘Well, let’s see what you think when I can’t afford the hairdressers’ bills any more.’

‘Are things really that bad?’ Anna asked, concerned.

‘Business has been slow for a long time. Winter’s always a challenge – you know that as well as me, in a town like this. But normally I’ve earned enough in the summer months to tide everything over. This year, I have to admit I’m only just scraping by.’

‘Do you think changes to stock would make any difference?’

‘I’ve tried, Anna. I’ve tried almost everything, but profits keep dropping.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Thanks. But perhaps it’s a sign.’ Evie’s normally bright blue eyes were weary, and there was a heaviness in her words. ‘I’m not one to give things up easily, but maybe it’s time for me to move on. Sell the place and do something new.’

‘Are you sure?’ Anna said.

It saddened Anna to see Evie look so defeated. When she and Imogen had been working hard to make Vivien’s a success, Evie had been with the sisters every single step, counselling and supporting them. And now her business was struggling. It didn’t seem right. More than that: if Vivien had been alive, she would have been doing everything in her power to make sure that Evie was OK, and Anna felt that same responsibility and loyalty towards her grandmother’s best friend.

‘Some days I’m sure,’ she said. ‘Others less so. It’s a difficult decision, after so many years. Selling souvenirs is all I’ve ever really done, other than travelling, that is.’

‘Here,’ Anna said, passing Evie her coffee together with the warm cream pastry Matteo had brought over. ‘I’m sorry. It doesn’t solve things, but . . .’

Evie bit into her cannoli and gave an appreciative nod. ‘It certainly helps.’

Anna smiled.

‘These pastries take me back to that trip I took with Vivien – to Sorrento, the Amalfi coast. Thirty-odd years ago it was now. We sat in pavement cafés all afternoon – the sea sparkling in front of us and nothing to do but while away the sunshine hours with a paperback.’

‘It must have been lovely,’ Anna said, feeling a pang of nostalgia for the carefree days she’d had in Florence before Bella was born.

‘You’d like it out there,’ Evie said.

‘Maybe one day,’ Anna said.

‘It was special to your grandmother, that place.’ She paused and seemed to cast her mind back to that time. ‘We laughed so much, back then.’

That afternoon, Anna’s mum Jan came into the ice cream shop with Bella. They all kissed hello, Jan’s cheeks cold from the fresh air.

‘Thought I’d pop in and say hi.’

‘Hey, Jan,’ Matteo called out from the kitchen.

‘Your dad and Uncle Martin are busy with DIY at the guesthouse, so Bella and I are on our way to the park. Would you like to join us?’

‘Matteo, do you mind if I go out for a while?’ Anna asked him.

‘Of course, no problem.’

Anna bundled up a couple of the unsold pastries. ‘Some fuel.’

They walked along the pebbled beach in the crisp winter sunshine, and she passed her mother one of the pastries.

‘How’s it all going up there?’ Anna said.

‘Good, I think. Well, there’s still a lot to do, but you know how the McAvoys are with pulling things together at the last minute. It’s our forte.’

Anna laughed. ‘Yes. There’s nothing like a deadline. I hear Finn’s almost done with the website design, though.’

‘Oh, he’s a wonder,’ Jan said. ‘I’ve had a look at an early version and it really brings the place to life.
I’d
want to stay there. And you know how picky I am about these things.’

Anna laughed. ‘How’s Dad doing?’

‘Head in the sand a bit, I think. I’ve told him it’s time he has a proper look round the guesthouse. There’s only a month till it opens, after all. Your sister said she’d come on Saturday afternoon, give a bit of moral support, just in case it’s needed. Are you free?’

‘Yes,’ Anna said. ‘I think so. I’ll be there.’

‘Your sister really has struck gold with Finn. He’s so good for her. I’m just so happy that she’s starting to grow up a bit, choose the things and the people that are good for her, at long last. Do you remember when she was out in Thailand the first time? Came back talking about some beach bum or other. American he was, I think.’

‘Luca,’ Anna said. She’d never met him, but had seen photos of him – dark and good-looking, with tanned skin. Imogen had come home from the trip full of mixed emotions – brought back by Vivien’s death and the funeral, kept at home by her concern about her father’s health. There was so much that was unhappy in their lives at that time, and yet somehow Imogen had still had the slightest buzz of holiday around her. She had always seemed to come alive when she was far from home. It was only when she and Luca broke up permanently – when Imogen heard that he was seeing a friend of hers – that she’d come properly back down to earth.

‘I nearly lost hope then,’ Jan said. ‘I mean your dad’s always had an adventurous spirit, and he’s travelled plenty in his time, of course. But he didn’t miss his chance of something good, something long-term, when he met me. From what Imogen’s told me, which I’ll admit isn’t much – you know how she is – I don’t think she would have found that with any of the men she went out with before Finn.’

‘She was only twenty-three back then,’ Anna said. ‘I don’t think she was ready herself.’

‘I was settled with your dad by then.’

‘Imogen’s very different from you. You know that, Mum. I don’t know if she’d be much readier to settle down now, to be honest. Twenty-six is still very young, these days.’

‘All this travel she’s intent on doing – I’m not sure I’ll ever really understand it. I’m just glad we’ve always had you, Anna – knowing that there’s at least one of our daughters we can rely on to stay close by. Because it means a lot, that – you’ll understand, when Bella grows up, how much it matters.’

‘Travelling makes Imogen happy, Mum.’

‘For now, perhaps,’ Jan said.

‘Just like your work did,’ Anna replied.

‘Yes,’ Jan said, glancing down.

‘Do you miss it?’ Anna asked softly.

Jan looked up and their eyes met. ‘It sounds silly, doesn’t it? But I suppose I do. I had these ideas of what being retired would be like: relaxing days in the garden, going out for strolls with your father, baking some wonderful creation or other. But instead, aside from the bits of publicity for the guesthouse, I feel like I’ve slowed down. Your father has his own things to be getting on with, and the truth is, Anna, if it weren’t for Bella I think I’d be at rather a loose end.’

Jan squeezed her granddaughter’s hand.

‘Granny!’ Bella called out. ‘Mwah.’ She blew a kiss. Her grandmother sent her one back.

‘Well, we have an awful lot to look forward to this summer, don’t we?’ Jan said to her granddaughter. ‘Sleepovers at Grandma and Granddad’s house, our picnic up in the bluebell woods . . .’ Jan turned to look at Anna. ‘It’ll be the first time Bella’s really seen our annual get-together, won’t it?’

‘Yes, it’ll be lovely,’ Anna said.

Each year the McAvoys invited the whole family to join an outing up to the woods near Jan and Tom’s house in Lewes, East Sussex, at the time of year that the bluebells were out in bloom. Some of Anna’s favourite childhood memories were of that time, and she wanted Bella to share those.

‘Bella has a way of giving us all focus, don’t you think?’ Jan said.

Anna saw in her mum’s eyes how much it mattered to her – having her family close, being able to be the grandmother she wanted to be. After years of Imogen’s living abroad, the McAvoys were all back together again, and all of them treasured that.

That evening, Matteo and Anna settled down to dinner at their kitchen table, Bella asleep in her bedroom.

‘This is good,’ Anna said, pointing to the pasta bake he’d made.

‘Thanks.’ His dark eyes were cast down.

‘You OK?’ she enquired gently, putting a hand on his arm. ‘You seem miles away tonight.’

‘Me? I’m fine,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘It’s . . . it’s nothing, really.’

‘Come on.’

‘It’s just something today got me thinking, I suppose.’

‘Yes?’

‘It’s not worth talking about,’ he said, dismissing it.

‘Is this something to do with that older guy you were talking to in the shop today?’

‘Yes. Sort of.’

‘Who was he?’

‘He’s from Siena originally, but he’s been running a fish-and-chip shop in Hove for years,’ he said. ‘Heard about the cannoli and came to try one. I gave him a few free samples of the ice cream and you should have seen him. So happy. He was in another world.’

‘That’s lovely,’ Anna said. Seeing customers light up at the taste of one of their ice creams was what made her feel so passionately about what they did.

‘We got caught up talking about Siena and the food back there. He said how much he missed the place.’

‘What brought him here?’

‘He fell in love. Thirty years later he’s still here. He always meant to go back, but he said the years just passed.’

The tone in his voice unsettled Anna. ‘You’ve been thinking about home a lot recently, haven’t you?’ Anna said. She felt a tug at her heart as she asked the question. She knew she was opening up a conversation – perhaps the only conversation – that could drive a wedge between them.

Matteo nodded, not saying a word.

In his silence, Anna saw that his feelings ran deep. In their early days he’d joked about what he was missing in Italy – reciting his favourite meals from Florence’s restaurants wistfully, his nostalgia a playful, amusing thing. This was different.

‘You can be honest with me, you know that,’ Anna said.

‘I miss so many things,’ Matteo said. ‘Being able to talk in my own language, for a start – I still get in a muddle with English sometimes, even when I’m talking with you. Then there’s just that sense of connection. I feel it here sometimes, but others . . .’

‘You want us to go there,’ Anna said, the realisation hitting her with a jolt.

He shook his head. ‘You and Bella are what matter most to me, and when I came here I made you a promise: that we would live here, where you have your family, the shop. I won’t break that commitment to you, Anna. I wouldn’t ask you to leave this.’

‘But how can we stay, when I know that, deep down, you’re not happy?’ Anna asked, her voice cracking.

‘I am,’ he said. ‘I’m so happy, Anna.’ He paused and she could see he was holding something back.

‘But . . .?’

‘The truth? I feel torn.’ In his eyes was a deep sadness. ‘I don’t want to be that man, Anna.’

Chapter 4

On the Friday evening, Finn and Imogen were in the living room at their beach house, relaxing on the L-shaped sofa. The sea, unsettled and stormy, was visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but the large white rug, scatter cushions and prints of Imogen’s photos from Thailand softened the room’s minimalist look.

Finn was showing Imogen the website he’d put together for the Elderberry Guesthouse. He passed her his tablet so she could see it clearly. ‘I’ve kept the home page simple, but you can click on each of the doors here to take a look at the guestrooms. See – here, in the
Roman Holiday-themed
room . . .’

He clicked on the white door and started the virtual tour of the room that Tom and Martin had filled with prints and Italian-inspired memorabilia from Vivien’s favourite Audrey Hepburn film.

‘Then, here, the Prohibition bar, and you can see how it leads through to the
Great Gatsby
room . . .’ On screen, he led Imogen through what had once been her grandmother’s kitchen and lounge.