Читать книгу The Sunshine and Biscotti Club - Jenny Oliver, Jenny Oliver - Страница 17

From her seat on the terrace, Libby watched Jimmy and Eve approach, the air between them like firecrackers popping in the sky.

Next to her, Dex and Jessica glanced up, saw Eve laugh at something Jimmy said, and then exchanged a look. Libby knew they were all thinking about the same thing. The casual flirting, the lazy hand-holding. How they’d roll in from some club together, Jimmy, with his arm slung casually round Eve’s shoulders, drunkenly rambling about getting free of the rat race, concocting starry-eyed visions of the two of them backpacking the globe, while Eve nodded along, fanning the flames of his dreams.

They were dangerous together; made more than the sum of their parts. Already Eve seemed to be burning brighter as she pulled up a chair, her hair glinting in the sun.

‘OK, so here’s the deal,’ said Libby when they were all seated. ‘I’m fully booked for the summer. I have just over a fortnight before the first customers arrive.’

Dex glanced around him and did a low whistle, his eyes taking in the lichen covered terrace, the rusted wrought iron tables, the chipped paintwork, the overgrown garden.

‘I know, it doesn’t look great,’ Libby went on. ‘And we certainly weren’t expecting it all to be perfect, but cash flow meant we had to open before we were ready. The main thing is that the outhouse is built. That’s where the courses are going to be.’

‘What courses?’ Jimmy asked, lounging back in his chair.

‘Cooking courses, for the moment,’ Libby said.

‘You should do yoga courses,’ he said.

Libby made a face to say that was the last thing she needed. ‘For the moment, Jimmy, I need to stick with what I know best and that’s baking. It’ll work as an extension of the blog and the supper clubs—you know, so you can come out here and have a slice of the life you read about. Soak up a bit of sun, learn to cook your favourite Italian foods, and go home relaxed and rejuvenated. It’s called the Sunshine and Biscotti Club.’

‘Very nice,’ said Jimmy, almost taken aback by the fact he was impressed.

Jessica nodded. ‘I came up with that. We’re in charge of design and marketing.’

‘Didn’t I come up with it?’ Dex said with a frown.

‘No.’ Jessica shook her head.

‘I really think I did,’ Dex said, leaning forward, elbows on the table.

‘You so didn’t.’ Jessica was aghast.

‘OK, OK, look, maybe you both came up with it. The important thing is that it’s going to happen in a couple of weeks,’ Libby said.

But Jessica wasn’t happy about letting the matter lie and was about to say more when an angry looking waitress appeared, arms crossed over her chest, and said, ‘Drinks?’

Jessica swung round in surprise.

‘Oh yes, that’d be lovely,’ said Libby, half standing in her chair. ‘Giulia, these are my friends, they’ll all be helping to get the place up and running over the next couple of days. Everyone, this is Giulia.’

Giulia stared at them all, her expression unchanged.

‘Giulia’s been here for years, worked for my aunt,’ Libby carried on brightly. ‘She’s a rock, I couldn’t do it without her.’

Giulia made a noise that could have been interpreted as a scoff of disdain. Libby could see the others glancing down at their laps or across to the lemon grove, as though the awkwardness in the air was something visible to look away from.

Libby kept smiling.

It had come as quite a shock when Libby and Jake had realised that, to all intents and purposes, Giulia had been inherited along with the hotel. There was no getting rid of her. She turned up every day at the crack of dawn to clean and polish, then at midday she opened up the bar. The idea that they might close the restaurant for any length of time had been actively laughed at by the residents of the village—all anyone wanted from the Limoncello was the food. Jake and Libby could mess about with their renovations all they liked as long as Thursday to Saturday the restaurant opened. Dino the chef trotted up in the afternoons to start prepping with or without Libby’s say so. Jake had been happy to let them get on with it as long as the money came in and he got a bowl of spicy tortellini soup or thick tomatoey fish stew at the end of the day.

To Giulia, the Sunshine and Biscotti Club was some ridiculous whim of Libby’s that she had absolutely no interest or belief in. Left to her, not an inch of the place would change.

‘Maybe a bottle of Prosecco, Giulia? So we can toast everyone’s arrival?’ Libby said, glancing round the eyes-averted table and then back up to Giulia who shrugged and stomped back inside.

‘She’s a keeper,’ said Dex with a raise of a brow.

‘Well, to be honest, I don’t actually know what I would do without her,’ Libby said. ‘I mean I don’t know how to run a bar or a restaurant.’

‘But you can learn though,’ said Jessica.

‘Yeah.’ Libby nodded emphatically, half in an attempt to convince herself.

‘And what about money?’ Dex asked, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table as he looked at her. ‘Are you OK for money?’

‘I think so,’ Libby said.

Dex frowned. ‘Think so doesn’t sound that certain.’

Libby glanced away from any direct eye contact. ‘Shamefully, Jake’s looked after all the money. I just need to get a clear handle on things, that’s all.’

‘Do you need to borrow any money, Libby?’ Dex asked, looking concerned. ‘I can lend you money if you need it, just ask.’

‘No, no, no.’ Libby waved a hand, ‘Absolutely not, I can’t take your money. And I don’t think I need it, I just need to sit down and sort it all out.’ She paused and blew out a breath.

Dex sat back again, his expression unconvinced as he kept close watch on her. Libby caught Jessica’s eye who made a face of pity and next to her Eve looked down at the floor.

Don’t cry, she told herself.

‘So anyway …’ she said, with a little shake and a huge smile. ‘What I need from you guys is just help with the cosmetics. The house, some of the rooms, the garden, that sort of thing. Just to make it presentable.’

They all nodded.

Libby nodded too. Then she smiled again. ‘Fab. Great. I think it might be fun. And also, it would really help me if just once a day we did some baking.’

‘Baking?’ Dex frowned. ‘I’m not really into baking, Lib.’

‘Don’t worry, it won’t be hard. That’s the whole point. It’s for everyone.’

‘I reckon you could bake, Dex, if you put your mind to it,’ Jimmy said with a grin, his big muscly arms locked behind his head.

‘I’d like to see you bake,’ Dex scoffed.

‘I could bake,’ said Jimmy. ‘What is it? Just flour and sugar, that sort of stuff.’

Eve rolled her eyes, half obscured by messy blonde hair. ‘You are unbelievably arrogant.’

‘That’s why you love me,’ Jimmy said with a wink.

Eve smiled then sat back, running her fingers along her bottom lip as she watched him.

Giulia arrived with the bottle of Prosecco and a tray of glasses.

Libby wanted Eve to stop looking at Jimmy the way she was looking at him. She wanted her to stop creating distractions. She was still annoyed at her for her earlier implied comments about the décor, annoyed at the gnawing feeling of regret, guilt even, that it had conjured inside her as she imagined her aunt nodding along with Eve about the changes. It made her want to suck all the white paint from the walls. But instead she focused on the planning. ‘Perhaps we could portion out the jobs now. Just so we’ve all got it straight in our heads. Maybe, Jimmy, you could do the garden?’

‘Aye, aye.’ Jimmy nodded. ‘Plants love me.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Dex, could you take the terrace? And the outside walls?’

‘If I must,’ said Dex, reaching forward to swipe the Prosecco from the ice bucket.

‘And, Jessica, perhaps you and I can make a start on the rooms?’

‘I can help with the rooms,’ said Eve.

‘No, I think it’s fine with Jessica and me. Is that OK, Jessica?’

‘Yep.’ Jessica looked up from reading an email on her phone and nodded. ‘Whatever you need.’

‘And, Eve, you could smarten up the area round the pool?’

‘There’s a pool?’ said Dex, glancing around trying to find it.

‘Behind those olive trees,’ Libby said, pointing to her right. ‘It’s tiny and really shabby. Is that OK, Eve?’

Eve shrugged a shoulder as if it had to be. ‘If that’s what you want, Libby,’ she said, her expression in the dim light of the terrace almost challenging.

Libby ignored it. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think that would work.’

Dex popped the Prosecco cork, splashed the frothing bubbles into the five glasses, and then raised his for a toast. ‘To Sunshine and Biscotti,’ he said with a grin.

As Libby chinked her glass she remembered Jake making exactly the same toast when they had arrived in the spring, and wished for a moment that he was there. That it could all just have carried on exactly as it had been. She didn’t care what website he’d been using, just wished that she hadn’t found out.

When she saw all the others smiling at her, she forced a big smile in return, refusing to acknowledge quite how lonely she felt. Taking a huge gulp of bubbles, she picked up her phone and made them all chink their glasses again so she could snap it for her Instagram.

‘Hold it there. Jimmy, just move your glass up a bit. Dex, out the way. Yes, perfect. Brilliant.’

Perfect summer night toasting the Sunshine and Biscotti Club, she titled it.

And as the evening wore on and the sun set around them, the moths starting to flutter around the outside lights, the Prosecco oiled the chat and the Instagram likes came rolling in, the perfect distraction from her worries.