Читать книгу Forever and Ever - Amber Aitken - Страница 7

“So what exactly do we do when we get to Deli Antonia?” Nicks wondered out loud.

“Well, we could ask Mr Selvaggio to fill in a Cupid Company questionnaire,” suggested Coral. “But that takes time, which we don’t have, so maybe we should just ask him plenty of relevant questions instead. We urgently need to find out if he’s our Mr Perfect. After all, you can’t build a marriage on pasta alone.”

“Marriage?” squawked Nicks. “Who said anything about my mum getting married?”

“Well, isn’t that what happens when you fall in love? You get married,” explained Coral. But Nicks didn’t look very convinced. In fact, she looked like she didn’t want to think about it at all. Tightening her grip on Romeo’s lead, she quickened her step. It was a warm day and they’d already been walking for a while, so Nicks thought about a long cold drink instead.

There was the usual crowd gathering outside the Sea Life Aquarium; afternoons meant feeding time for the bigger fish and it was always worth queuing for. But today there seemed to be a different sort of commotion going on. The girls looked closer until they saw what it was that was causing all the fuss. And then they saw them–Meredith and Malcolm at the front of the crowd, handing out bits of paper and shouting about something. The girls moved closer.

“Come and see the sea star exhibition,” hollered Meredith to the crowd.

“And discover why the starfish is really a sea star,” added Malcolm with just as much enthusiasm.

Meredith noticed the girls and waved them over merrily. “Isn’t this great!” she cheered. “We’ve really drawn a crowd.”

Coral didn’t have the heart to tell her that there was usually a bunch of people waiting to see the big fish get fed. She smiled instead.

“Would you like a free pass to see the sea star exhibition?” offered Malcolm. “After all, we are neighbours.” He chuckled and Meredith chuckled like this was really quite funny.

“Erm, we’re just off…on an errand for Nicks’s mum,” white-lied Coral.

Nicks nodded, adding, “But could we have two free passes for tomorrow instead?” It was a Plan B, just in case Mr Selvaggio was not Mr Perfect after all.

“Alrighty!” agreed Meredith. “And don’t forget there’s the Sea Life Aquarium Open Day coming up soon.”

The girls nodded with interest. The Aquarium Open Day was something they looked forward to every year.

“And you be sure to join us on a beach scavenge sometime soon,” concluded Malcolm. “Dawn is such a dazzling time of day; we find such interesting marine life along the shoreline.”

Both Coral and Nicks nodded once more, even though the mention of the word ‘dawn’ made them feel very sleepy. Just then a man with a large belly covered in a stretched Hawaiian cotton shirt squeezed past Nicks. He was trailed by four small, round children carrying ice creams. They all shuffled past and joined the queue for the aquarium. They were followed by three sauntering surfer dudes who left wafts of coconut oil in their wake. And then an old man wearing holey clothes and a captain’s cap came hobbling along, carrying his stinky bait box. The day was hot, noisy and aromatic. There was nothing quite like summertime in Sunday Harbour. Nicks was more aware of this than anybody.

Finally Coral and Nicks and Meredith and Malcolm waved goodbye and went their separate ways. The marine scientists continued handing out flyers and the girls pressed on in the direction of Mr Selvaggio and Deli Antonia. Nicks had a very determined look in her eye.

The deli wasn’t very busy when they arrived and the girls peered through the large shopfront window while they secured Romeo’s lead to a post outside. Inside were two old ladies in tortoiseshell glasses seated at a small table near the wall. A man in a suit was hunched over the glass deli counter, studying the meat, cheese and pickles and making a small ‘mmm’ sound, like he was running off a generator. Behind the counter a short, dark man wearing a bright white apron stood and waited, silent and expectant. It was Mr Selvaggio. Both girls stopped and stared at him closely. He still had all his hair, which was slicked back with some type of oil. He skin was soft and a little saggy, but it was a nice nutty colour, and his moustache was very neatly trimmed. And he had warm black eyes that almost seemed to twinkle.

Finally the man in the suit made up his mind and barked out his order to Mr Selvaggio, who nimbly wrapped some salami slices in brown paper and filled a small plastic pot with olives. The girls turned to each other. This man was efficient! That was the great thing about being best friends–they didn’t always need words. Mr Selvaggio then popped the salami and olives into a bag and finally added a small crusty roll to its contents. He handed the bag over with a friendly smile.

“The bread is on-a the house,” he said with a soft Italian accent.

The girls turned to each other once again. And generous!

The man in the suit left Deli Antonia with a smile, leaving Mr Selvaggio free to focus on the girls. “And what-a may I do for-a you?” he said.

“Hiya,” said Coral while Nicks stood there silently. She suddenly felt nervous. What if Mr Selvaggio did marry her mum?

Mr Selvaggio smiled while he waited patiently for their order. But Coral’s mind had gone blank. She should have prepared a few questions! So she tried to focus on what sort of man they were looking for. Ah yes, someone who was kind, clever, funny, handsome.

“So, Mr Selvaggio,” she began, “do you do any charity work?”

Mr Selvaggio looked confused. “Uh, well we do try-a to collect for the Sea Watch Foundation,” he stammered as he pointed to the plastic boat-shaped moneybox on the countertop.

Coral beamed at Nicks and turned to face Mr Selvaggio once more. “And what is the square root of 37?” She didn’t know the answer to this herself, but she hoped that Mr Selvaggio would answer very quickly because that would be telling enough.

Mr Selvaggio’s forehead scrunched up while he gave this some silent thought.

“OK–what is the capital of Italy then?” Coral blurted out.

Mr Selvaggio looked instantly relieved. “That would’a be Rome!”

Coral clapped. He definitely knew that one! “Now, tell us your favourite joke, please.”

Mr Selvaggio looked very confused. “But-a why?”

“Why?” echoed Coral. “Well…because…because the great thing about living in Sunday Harbour is our community spirit. Everyone knows everybody else. And we–my good friend NICKS WATERMAN and I–just love getting to know people better.”

Mr Selvaggio could not argue with that. “My favourite-a joke…” he considered, looking up at the ceiling. And then he began. “Knock-a knock-a.”

“Who’s there?” replied both girls eagerly (even Nicks was feeling Coral’s community spirit speech).

“Tuna.”

“Tuna who?”

“Tuna your radio down, I’m trying to get some sleep!” Mr Selvaggio chuckled.

Both girls stood there blinking.

Tuna your round radio down…? Coral turned to look at Nicks.

At least the joke kind of works with an Italian accent, that has to count for something! And he obviously has a very good sense of humour!

They turned back to Mr Selvaggio and laughed too. But Coral wasn’t done interrogating yet. Nicks, meanwhile, had just noticed a thin, shiny gold wedding band on Mr Selvaggio’s ring finger. She stared. Maybe he just hadn’t got around to taking it off yet. After all, it couldn’t have been easy for him when his wife passed away. Nicks decided to push the thought from her mind.

“So what sort of things do you enjoy doing?” continued Coral, who was too busy with the verbal questionnaire to notice any gold ring.

Meanwhile, Nicks’s eyes crept up to the counter behind Mr Selvaggio. There was a very large, very shiny chrome coffee machine with funnels and drip trays. There were labeled canisters filled with different kinds of coffee as well as sugar. There were boxes of mocha sticks stuffed with chocolate. And then Nicks’s gaze landed on a large glass dome over a plate of what appeared to be square biscuits studded with dried fruit. A sign next to the dome of biscuits read:

HANDMADE FRUIT BISCOTTI–FRESHLY BAKED BY MRS ANTONIA SELVAGGIO

Nicks’s gaze settled on Mr Selvaggio’s wedding ring once again. She looked back to the sign advertising the fruit biscotti. And then it all became very clear. Coral had got it all wrong. Mrs Selvaggio was obviously alive and well and very well; it must have been Mr Selvaggio’s mother who had passed away.

“Coral!” she hissed.

But Coral was too busy with her interrogation. She’d just remembered Nicks’s mum’s bicycle with the cobweb spokes and the tennis racket with its broken strings and thought she’d better be more specific with her questions. “Do you enjoy playing sport, Mr Selvaggio?”

“CORAL!”

Coral smiled apologetically at Mr Selvaggio and then faced her best friend with a glare. Can’t you see I’m trying to find Mr Perfect!

Nicks made big eyes at the ring finger on her hand. She then nodded a few times in Mr Selvaggio’s direction.

But Coral was not taking any notice. “And what about the theatre–when was the last time you attended, Mr Selvaggio?”

“You probably took your wife along with you, didn’t you, Mr Selvaggio?” interrupted Nicks with an uneasy smile.

“Yes, you—” began Coral. And then her head quickly snapped back in Nicks’s direction. “Now, Nicks,” she said kindly, “that’s just being silly.”

Mr Selvaggio looked very bewildered, but seemed relieved to be able to answer at least one question directly. “Actually, my-a wife does enjoy-a the theatre very-a much,” he admitted. “And she’s just-a in the back. I call her and you can ask for yourself!” His face was desperate, like he’d do almost anything to get out of answering any more of these annoying girls’ questions.

Coral stood ramrod straight with her eyes in a wide O-shape. Her jaw flapped as she struggled to find words to speak. So Nicks stepped in.

“Oh, that’s OK, Mr Selvaggio, we’ve really got to get going anyway. But it’s been great getting to know you. And we’re sorry about your mum.”

She pressed a hand into Coral’s back and gently bulldozed her in the direction of the door. Coral was stammering but making very little sense, although at one point she did mumble something that sounded like ‘it must be a miracle…’