Chapter 21
Acqua frizzante – crisp, refreshing and the perfect sparkling accompaniment to food
T hey left the van parked up at the museum and Mark drove her to an Italian restaurant in the next town. ‘They do fantastic pizzas here,’ he explained, as they sat down.
When their food arrived, Livvy had to agree. ‘Would be super to do something like this at the pub. Maybe in the summer when the beer garden’s done.’
Mark took the last slice and held it up, trying to catch the dangling cheese.
‘You reckon? Would need a proper pizza oven and an authentic dough recipe. Nice idea though.’ He took an enormous bite and pleasure spread across his face.
‘That was so good, he said, when he’d finished.
He picked up a wodge of paper serviettes and wiped his fingers. ‘Nothing like pizza for a quick lunch.’
‘How do you find these places?’ Livvy gestured around at the restaurant which was barely more than a café and which was tucked away up an alley off the main street.
It, too, had entered into the Christmas mood.
Dean Martin crooned ‘Let it Snow’ over the sound system, the restaurant glowed softly with walls covered in curtains of white lights and a fat Father Christmas figure stood on the bar gyrating along.
‘If I hadn’t been able to smell garlic, I wouldn’t have known there was anything here.
’ She touched the carafe holding a spluttering red candle and around which had been wound ivy and mistletoe.
Despite its humble setting the place was deeply romantic.
‘Word of mouth, I suppose. Italian food has to be my favourite, and this place is rumoured to bring pizza wannabe chefs from Naples here to learn their craft. Been owned by the same family for generations. I love places like this. There’s always room for big swanky showy-off restaurants, but you can’t beat these little places. Italy does them well.’
‘Have you travelled much in Italy?’
Mark nodded, halfway through drinking some acqua frizzante. ‘My favourite place on earth,’ he said, as he put the glass down. ‘It’s one place I could see myself living.’
‘Whereabouts would you go?’
‘Too many wonderful places to choose from. Umbria maybe?’ He grimaced. ‘Bit hackneyed though. I love Sicily and the Cinque Terre, and the east coast is spectacular as well. And I’m sneakily fond of Sorrento, despite the tourists.’
‘Sounds like you have travelled a lot in Italy.’ Livvy smiled but the thought of Mark settling in another country was upsetting. She’d miss him if he went away from Lullbury. Only as a friend, she added, hastily, in her head. We are just friends, right?
‘Sounds as if you’ve travelled a lot too’
‘I have, and when I was a kid, with my parents, before I went to boarding school. Although they were mostly working, so it was me and the nanny.’ Livvy thought back to the succession of nannies and au pairs she’d had looking after her as a child.
Some kind, some fun. One or two neither.
It had been a lonely existence. Gilded but lonely.
‘So, on paper at least, I am extremely well-travelled, but I can’t say I’ve got to grips with anywhere. Not as you obviously have.’
‘Perhaps we should do a research trip to the land of the pizza.’ Mark grinned broadly.
‘Perhaps we should,’ Livvy answered, knowing she could never get enough time away from the pub to make it happen. The thought of travelling to one of the world’s most romantic places with Mark filled her with joy. But we’re just friends, she reminded herself again.
Mark raised his water glass, and she did the same. ‘To Italy,’ he cried as they made the toast. ‘To lots of lovely research.’
The waiter, attracted by the noise, came over. ‘You’ve enjoyed?’ he asked.
Mark rattled off an answer in Italian which had the waiter looking impressed. ‘Some gelato to finish?’
‘Regrettably, I’m full. Would you like some ice cream, Livvy?’
‘Maybe another time when I’ve eaten less delicious pizza. An espresso would be marvellous though.’
‘Of course,’ the waiter said. ‘Molto bene. And come back another time. We always have pizza for lovers.’
Livvy blushed scarlet and hid her face in her water glass.
Mark roared at her discomfort. When the waiter had left to get their coffee, he said, ‘Don’t think he’s got the concept of men and women being friends.
There always has to be the inamorata. ’ He paused, gazing at her reflectively.
‘Don’t worry, Livvy I’m not about to make a move on you. We’re just pals, aren’t we?’
Livvy nodded. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
She didn’t have room in her life for a boyfriend.
But even as his words sank in, that this was how he saw her – as a friend – a little bit of her shrivelled.
Part of her, in another life, at another time, would like Mark as a lover.
She found her voice. ‘Of course we are,’ she answered, stoutly. ‘The best kind.’
There was an awkward silence broken only by the waiter returning and serving them coffee with a flourish.
Mark stirred in a lozenge of brown sugar. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying but you look tired. Are you sure you’re leaving enough to the others? You’ve a good team behind you now. They should be able to shoulder more responsibility.’
‘They are. I’m really lucky to have them and I am leaving more to them, I promise.
Like today. It’s been so good to get out and leave the pub for a while, even if we did end up researching its history.
I promise I’m not going to become one of those people who are only about their business, although it’s hard not to be when you’re just starting up.
’ She sipped her espresso wondering if the caffeine hit was worth the risk of a sleepless night.
‘It’s just that I haven’t been sleeping well. ’
‘Oh no, that’s rotten. Why?’ Mark’s sympathy was immediate and sincere.
‘Just disturbed nights. Kids playing about in the car park in the early hours. Banging the kitchen door, waking me up.’
‘Idiots. Can’t they find something more productive to do?’ He frowned. ‘Must be frightening when you’re all on your own.’
‘It can be, even though I’m pretty sure it’s just bored teenagers but it does make me aware I’m alone in a very big building.’
‘You’ve got a security system?’
Livvy nodded. ‘And now, thanks to the genius Darrell, a superb set of security lights.’
‘Ring me, if you need to. Or Simona. She’s only next door and she’s actually, contrary to appearances, pretty good in a crisis.’
‘Thanks. I appreciate it but I’m made of strong stuff.’ She shrugged. ‘It might just be mice.’
‘Big mice!’
‘Yeah.’ Livvy managed a laugh. ‘I was thinking of getting a cat.’
‘A dog might be a better idea. Even if it’s not a guard dog as such, the barking will put people off.’
‘You may have a point. I’ve never yet met a cat who was an efficient mouser anyway.’
‘Have you been in touch with Tom up at his animal sanctuary? It’s on the hill leading out of town in the other direction to the pub. He often has dogs he rehomes.’
‘I haven’t. I didn’t know he rehomed animals.’
‘Might be worth a visit. If nothing else a dog is excellent company.’
‘Thanks, Mark. I’ll do that. And, what’s a pub without a pub dog?’
He grinned. ‘As long as it gets on with Skip.’
‘Only Daisy gets on with Skip,’ Livvy said gloomily. ‘I’m not even sure Pete is all that fond of him.’ Changing the subject, she added, ‘You know you mentioned a young couple who met at the pub, and it didn’t end well?’
Mark’s brow creased. ‘Did I?’
‘It was the first night you came in when I’d only just taken over. You asked if I was planning on changing the name and said the chain had named it The Runaways after a couple who used to meet there back in the nineteenth century and it ended tragically.’
‘Oh yes. It’s an old story. Speaking of Pete, ask him about it.
He used to sit at the bar and tell tales for the price of a pint of cider.
That’s when his hip allowed him to sit on the bar stool.
His arthritis is too bad now. All I know about them is they used the inn to meet one another when they got off the stagecoach from London. ’
‘Just as Barbara in the museum said. The George was a coaching inn.’
‘Like lots of other pubs in England. You’d have to ask a historian about it. Not my area of expertise.’
‘You seem to know a lot about Ada Lovelace.’
‘Ah yes. My father-in-law, or should I say ex-father-in-law, has an obsession with her. He was in the defence industry back in the day and found out that the computer programming language he was using at the time was called Ada after Ada Lovelace.’ Mark grinned.
‘Now he spends his retirement trying to convince the world to recognise her for the genius she undoubtedly was. He bends my ear about her every time I go to see the in-laws.’
Livvy remained silent. It was charming that Mark was still on such good terms with his ex-in-laws. Civilised.
‘But you were talking about the runaway couple.’ Mark picked up an almond biscotti and crunched it.
‘It was the portrait in the museum that did it.’ Livvy warmed to her theme.
‘The more I think about it, the more I’m sure she’s the same woman as in the book of sketches and poetry I found stuffed up the chimney.
If she’s Adela Dickson, who suffered a romantic tragedy early in life and then never married, what if she was one half of the runaway lovers who met at The George? ’
‘It’s a bit of a reach, Livvy.’
‘Yes, it is, isn’t it?’ She deflated.
‘But I can see it means a lot to you. What are you going to do next?’
‘Research Adela, I suppose.’ She smiled ruefully.
‘In all the spare time I don’t have. I don’t know why but I’m really drawn to this story of thwarted romance.
I love the idea that The George was the meeting point for all these people, these lovers.
Just think how many assignations have happened under the roof of my pub. ’
Mark laughed. ‘And still are.’
‘And still are.’
He glanced at his watch. ‘Suppose we’d better go. It’s gone four.’
‘Has it?’ Livvy was startled. ‘Time’s flown.
’ She peered outside. ‘Gosh yes, it’s gone dark.
I need to get back, unload the van and get geared up for opening time.
Perhaps,’ she added cheerfully, ‘I’d best concentrate on getting my new business up and running and forget all about nineteenth century lovers. ’
‘Maybe.’ Mark called for the bill, then turned to her, looking serious. ‘Going back to these annoying teenagers, ring me if they’re a problem again. Any time, day or night.’
‘Thanks, Mark. That means a lot. It’s good to know I have a friend to rely on.’
A strange expression flickered across his face. ‘Always. Now, come on, let’s get you back to pick up your van.’
Darkness misted around them as they drove back to the museum car park.
Lullbury Bay’s main shopping street was awash with Christmas colour and hope.
The mini trees above the shop windows were now lit and the lights strung across the street twinkled with a myriad of red and green stars.
Definitely no Kylie hot pants in evidence.
The huge tree in the square was also lit and filled the chilly, damp sea air with a warming glow.
As Mark changed down to turn into the car park where the van sat, Livvy said, ‘I’m determined to make the Late Night Shopping Event. I missed the lighting up ceremony and I really regret it.’
‘That’s a shame. The lighting up is great fun.
Think I actually prefer Late Night Shopping, though.
There’s usually a lantern parade, the carnival floats come out, loads of stalls.
Last year there was a German Market but not sure that’s happening again.
Might be bands on in the square instead with lots of street food. ’
‘Carnival floats?’
‘Carnival is big here in the southwest. Until you’ve seen some of those floats, you won’t believe your eyes. Loud, bright, anarchic. Great fun.’
Mark eased the Mercedes smoothly into a parking space. Livvy began opening the passenger door to get out but changed her mind. To hell with being friends. She reached over and quickly kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Mark. Thanks for everything. Let’s go to the Late Night Shopping. Together.’
If he was taken aback, he had the good manners not to show it. Flicking a heavy lock of glossy red-brown hair back, he grinned. ‘It’s a date. See you, Livvy.’
‘See you, Mark.’