Page 46 of New Beginnings at the Little Christmas Inn
‘Do you know her well?’ Livvy almost didn’t want to know the answer. The image of them looking cosy in Simona’s sports car flew into her vision.
‘I was friends with both Simona and Terence when he was alive. She was incredibly cut up when he died. I suppose I was a shoulder to cry on. When she felt up to it, she went to their house in Italy. It’s good to have her back. We’re good friends but, of course, the town gossips wouldn’t have it. The rumour was we were having a torrid affair. As if.’ He laughed. ‘I could never afford Simona!’ He indicated right to go down a suburban-looking lane flanked by bungalows. ‘I got really fed-up battingoff the tittle-tattle. Gossip is the one thing I can’t stand about Lullbury.’
Livvy was amazed at the relief which poured through her. ‘Do you think men and women can have a friendship? Without anything else rearing its head, I mean?’
‘Certainly is with me and Simona. I love her as a friend, but she’d drive me bananas as a lover. Do you?’ His quick look was intense.
‘I’m not sure,’ Livvy said slowly. ‘Sometimes. Oh!’ Her sentence was cut off as the dull bungalows gave way and the road dipped down to rolling fields with a great expanse of shingle, with the sparkling sapphire-blue sea beyond. Everything felt huge and open, with wide skies and a sea which stretched forever. The sun bounced off the water with such a bright, metallic force it had her reaching for her sunglasses again. She leaned forward. ‘What a place!’
Mark pulled onto a car park next to a marquee. ‘It’s lovely here at any time of the year but it’s even better in the summer. When the weather’s hot I always think it’s a little bit Greek.’
‘Or Italian?’ She shot him a look.
He grinned. ‘Or Italian.’ He gestured to the marquee, festooned with heavy white lights which swayed in the sea breeze. ‘That’s the Hive Beach Café. Seafood second to none and the chips are to die for. Maybe it’s being close to the sea that makes the food taste extra-good? We could come back one day to sample it?’
‘I’d like that.’ She smiled, recognising she was getting more and more attracted to Mark. Was it too soon after Gavin? His abandonment had cut deep. He’d been her only serious boyfriend. They’d made plans, had envisioned a life stretching ahead of them together. His sudden departure still had her raw and hurting. She supposed it was almost a grieving process. Could she open herself up to trust another man and so soon?For a second she wondered what Gavin was doing now; she’d blocked all his contacts and hadn’t spoken to him since. It had been too painful. Strange. She’d been so busy setting up the pub she hadn’t given him much thought until now.
‘What’s wrong? You look sad.’ Mark reached out and feathered a touch down her cheek. ‘You and Angel will get on like a house on fire, I promise you. Don’t worry.’
On cue the dog rattled impatiently at her crate.
‘Think someone is keen to get out for a walk.’ He glanced at the waves racing to the shore. ‘Might be bracing. You up for it? Think Angel is.’
Livvy forced herself back to the Gavin-less present. ‘As long as there’s a hot latte at the end of it.’
Mark pulled a face. ‘You really don’t know much about dogs, do you? They don’t drink coffee.’
She thumped him lightly on the arm. ‘For that, the first round is on you.’
He grinned and opened the car door, letting in a blast of freezing briny air. ‘You’re on.’
She followed him, hoping the stiff sea wind would blow her introspection away.
CHAPTER 26
Caffè all’americana – espresso with hot water. Good for
steeling the nerves
Angel settled in, as if born, to pub life. She and Skip had a few days sniffing around one another suspiciously and then decided to ignore one another. She found her spot on the opposite side of the wood burner to him and spent most of her time snoozing unless she heard the rustle of a packet of crisps, at which point did the mournful spaniel act and begged a few. Livvy kept a watchful eye out. Not everyone appreciated a springer drooling at their knee and she was only let into the bar when food wasn’t being served.
For the rest of the time she seemed content to lie in her bed in the back corridor next to the kitchen, reaping the odd scrap of meat or carrot from Fabio. Although slightly subdued, she seemed to be taking her change of accommodation in her stride.
Good to his word, Mark had walked her early in the mornings. However, as he’d now gone to collect his sister fromLondon before they travelled to York for Christmas, Livvy was forcing herself out of bed in the chilly early hours for a quick run on the beach. The walk back up the steep hill to The George almost killed her at first but her thighs were getting used to it. Eli was besotted and often took Angel out when his lunchtime shift ended. The springer endured it all with a stoical acceptance.
At night, Livvy allowed the dog to sleep on the end of her bed. She was grateful for the warm weight on her feet and put up with the odd snorting snore. Thankfully, the icy cold weather was putting paid to any nocturnal teenage action in the car park and Angel’s guard dog prowess was so far untested.
The pictures of Livvy clambering out of the cherry picker after putting up the Christmas lights had hit the front page of theLullbury Bay Echo. The community Facebook pages were a buzz of chatter. The George and its intrepid new landlady had even been given a double-page feature spread in the newspaper, its headline, ‘Lights Go Up, Up, Upmarket and Away’. Livvy hadn’t been too happy about the emphasis on her family background, but publicity was publicity and, along with the December frosts and the town’s love for all things Christmas, had brought welcome extra trade to the pub. They were almost always fully booked for food and, for the first time, Livvy felt she might be making serious money.
She was puzzled, however, when examining the accounts, to see profits not as solid as expected. ‘Must ask Mark to take a look,’ she murmured, worried she was coming to rely on him a little too much. She pinned the photograph of her in manure smeared jeans and with Gerry’s hand splayed on her bottom, to the newly installed noticeboard in the entrance hall. It made her giggle. The cuttings were framed by more cards from customers and a cheery border of frothy silver tinsel.
The bar, with its lavishly decorated tree in the corner, and reams of white and silver tinsel looked happy and festive. Thewalls remained bare, but Dave Wiscombe had brought up three of Vivienne Little’s seascapes which hung in pride of place in the restaurant. It now had its own tree, and with sprigs of ivy, and holly gleaming with bright red berries, in bud vases on each table. The George was gearing up for its first Christmas.
However, if Livvy felt as prepared as she could be for her first hectic Christmas season in the pub, she was less equipped for her parents’ visit.
‘Well it’s rather basic, darling,’ Penny Smith-Lygott announced as she came downstairs from unpacking. She gazed dismissively around the bar. ‘It’s going to take an awful lot of work.’
Livvy fumed silently. It was just as well her mother hadn’t seen the pub before its refurb.
