‘Thank you,’ Imogen said. ‘You’re a godsend. Right, what do we need … ?’
She opened a cupboard under the sink and took out the cans of car paint she’d bought, candyfloss pink and pistachio to match the retro interior of the shop. ‘Reckon we’ve got pretty much everything here.’
‘Let’s go, then,’ Jess said eagerly.
Outside, they turned the stereo up loud and got to work. Jess was drawing out the design ready for them to paint.
‘Ooh, what’s going on here?’ Evie said, poking her head out of her shop door.
‘Meet the newest member of our team,’ Imogen called out over the music, pointing to the van.
‘I like it,’ Evie said. ‘Does it play a tune?’
Jess reached inside and pressed the button that sent the summery music ringing out. Evie laughed in surprise. ‘Terrific,’ she said.
‘Yes, only we’d better not do that again,’ Imogen said, ‘because we’ve got nothing to sell yet.’
‘You will soon enough. Anna will be back next week, won’t
she?’ Evie said, leaning back against the doorway. ‘And you can take it out on the road then.’
‘Believe me, I’m counting the days,’ Imogen said.
As the sun set over the sea and the air cooled, Imogen finished the remainder of the painting on the van. Jess had gone home, but had painted enough for her to take over the final stages.
‘This yours?’ came a male voice.
Imogen’s heart sank. Finn.
‘Yes,’ Imogen said. She got up from her crouched position to standing and looked him in the eye.
‘Don’t you think you might be running before you can walk?’
‘Look, Finn,’ she said assertively, wiping down her paint-covered hands on the front of her overalls. She thought of the nasty review she’d read. Could Finn have written that too? She hesitated, then decided it would be better to try and make peace.
‘I’m sorry about what happened the other day,’ she said, as calmly as she could. ‘But what more can I do? I’ve taken the ice cream off sale and until Anna’s back we’re sticking to the ready-made stuff – the van is for when we have her new ice creams ready.’
‘I hope, for your customers’ sake, that you’ll be testing them properly.’
‘Of course we will,’ Imogen snapped. ‘I don’t interfere with your business, Finn, so how about you don’t—’
Finn cut her short. ‘Imogen, you already
have
interfered with my business – it’s strange that you don’t seem to realise that. I had to give half of my class a refund. Usually in Granville Arches we look after each other, we trust one another – but I guess things have changed. Maybe you’re right – we should just let each other get on with what we do.’
‘That sounds good to me.’
‘You can get him on for just a minute, can’t you?’ Imogen said to her mum. She was sitting in the top floor bedroom at Vivien’s house, tucked up under the duvet. ‘I really need to talk to him.’
After the day she’d had, there was only one person who might be able to make her feel better.
‘It’s not the time,’ Jan said. ‘Your dad’s very tired.’
‘Still?’
‘He’s no better,’ Jan said. ‘In fact … Well, I wasn’t going to mention this to you until Anna was back. But actually he’s quite a lot worse.’
‘Worse?’ Imogen said. ‘What’s going on, Mum?’
The line fell silent for a second.
‘We had a visit last night, from Françoise and Martin. They’re insisting on trying to push forward the date for the house sale again. But it’s more than that. Françoise is trying to persuade your father to let her make a bid for the business.’
‘What?’ Imogen said, sitting upright. ‘She can’t do that.’
‘She said there’ve been bad reviews and publicity about
the shop – and she’s arguing that it’ll go bankrupt under your ownership,’ Jan said.
‘What right does she have to interfere?’
‘None, I know, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping her. Imogen, I don’t know what she’s capable of. But she and Martin are having a damn good try at breaking your father’s heart.’
‘It’s lovely, Imo. Just so pretty – the sun’s out – not like at home.’ Anna walked, chatting on her mobile as she went, across the cobbled square in front of the Uffizi Gallery, where she and Sian had spent their lunch break looking at Renaissance masterpieces – Leonardo and Botticelli, the originals right there in front of them. She’d left Sian sketching in one of the rooms.
‘And the people are really friendly,’ she went on. ‘You know I used to be funny about travelling on my own, do you remember? But I’ve hardly been alone since I arrived.’
‘I told you,’ Imogen replied. ‘And you’re enjoying the course?’
‘It’s fantastic. And there’s an ice cream festival starting next weekend – I’m here just long enough to go to it,’ Anna said, full of enthusiasm. ‘It’s only once a year, Imo. Isn’t it amazing timing that I’m over here? Some of the country’s top ice cream makers are going to be here – there’s going to be all kinds of experimental flavours, apparently it’s … Oh look, I am rambling on, aren’t I? How are things with you,
the shop?’ Anna remembered what her sister had said about making and selling the ice cream herself: it sounded like she was really coming into her own without her elder sister there crowding her.
‘Oh fine,’ Imogen said, sounding chirpy. ‘Everything’s going well. Now you enjoy yourself out there and bring us back some flavours we can wow our new customers with.’
‘Sure I will,’ Anna said. ‘I definitely will.’ She was about to hang up the phone, but a thought nagged at her. ‘Listen, Imogen – weird thing to ask, I know, but you haven’t heard from Jon, have you? Only I’ve been calling him at work all morning and he hasn’t picked up.’
‘I saw him yesterday,’ Imogen said. ‘I popped by the flat and caught him in his pants.’
‘In his pants?’
‘Not as dodgy as it sounds,’ Imogen reassured her. ‘He was working from home. Try him on his mobile.’
‘OK, I will. See you soon, Imo.’
‘Bye.’
Anna hung up and walked back slowly towards the ice cream school. Energised by the beautiful art she’d just seen, she felt inspired about getting to work on a new creation. The theme that Bianca had set today was fruit sorbets, and she and Matteo, teamed up for the first time, had opted for fruits of the forest, succulent red berries that tasted perfect in the ice. With Matteo’s snippets of knowledge, and Anna’s careful tasting, the flavours were working beautifully together. The fourth day on the course had been Anna’s best yet.
She arrived back at the class at the same time as the others, and there was a buzz as everyone retook their seats. ‘Top of the class, eh?’ Georgios said to Anna with a hearty chuckle as he passed her workstation. Yesterday Bianca had offered her that coveted placement for her coffee ice cream and she’d been glowing with pleasure ever since. It didn’t mean much, really – there were only six students, after all, but it was the reminder Anna needed that doing the course was going to be worthwhile.
‘You next,’ Anna joked, with a smile. It was hard not to see that Georgios’ progress had been the slowest, but he always launched into the tasks with gusto, and Bianca hadn’t given up on him yet.
‘Hey, back to work, you,’ Matteo said, giving her a good-natured nudge and motioning for her to add the prepared fruit to the sorbet mixture. His brown eyes met hers.
‘And what next?’ Anna said, squinting at the recipe book and trying to make out the final instructions. After another delicious breakfast on the terrace that morning, coloured by a leisurely chat with Sian and Matteo, she’d forgotten to bring her glasses. She could barely make out the words. It was normally she who read recipes out to Imogen, so she jumped in surprise as a gentle voice came over her shoulder. ‘You test the sugar level now,’ Matteo said, ‘with the – what do you call it – the monitor thing.’ Something about the tone of his voice made her feel suddenly conscious of how close he was to her. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck as he spoke, and smell the clean, but faintly musky, scent of him.
‘Right, let’s do that then,’ Anna said, the words rushing out. She should say something about Jon. Any moment now, she would explain that she had a boyfriend, and make sure that was clear.
They finished the preparations together, and Anna barely said a word. When they had finished, she put the bowl in the fridge. As she made room for it she spotted another bowl in there, in addition to the one they’d prepared together that morning. ‘What’s this?’ she asked.
‘I made that at lunchtime,’ Matteo said. Then, laughing, ‘Don’t call me teacher’s pet, please … I just had a bit of free time. And I wanted to experiment.’
She took out the bowl, peeled back the clingfilm and looked at the sorbet, a pale green colour. ‘Kiwi?’ she guessed, and he nodded. ‘And
melone
,’ he said. Anna thought he made ‘
melone
’ sound like the most exotic and delicious of all fruits, the way it tripped off his tongue. ‘Melon, I mean,’ he corrected himself.
‘Try it,’ he said. He dipped a spoon into the sorbet and then passed it to Anna. She took it, and braced herself for the cold on her tongue – over the day’s ice preparation she’d grown used to the chill in her mouth that ran right the way down to her toes. Even on a hot summer’s day like this one, when the air outside was stifling, and only the floatiest of summer dresses, like the lilac one Anna had chosen that morning, would do.
But it wasn’t the cold that she noticed. It was the flavours – the delicate zing of the kiwi first, and then the more subtle
flavours of the melon underlying it. Deeper still was another taste, mint perhaps, that made the whole sorbet deliciously full-bodied.
She was conscious that a smile had spread right the way across her face, her spirits reacting to the exquisite combination. Her expression was mirrored by Matteo’s. He grinned, watching his creation working the intended magic on Anna.
She didn’t want the mouthful to end, savoured the final, minute crystals of ice and the way every part of her mouth responded to it.
‘You like it?’ Matteo asked. Anna nodded. ‘Just wait until the festival – this is nothing. You’re going to taste things you never knew existed. Why don’t you come out with me and a few friends tomorrow night? Elena, and Caro, Saverio – you’ll like them, and they speak a bit of English. We can show you around.’
‘I’d like that,’ Anna said, with a rush of excitement.
It was Friday, and their course was drawing to a close. Anna prepared herself for the final day of study by eating another breakfast of pastries up on the terrace, this time with Giovanna for company. She wondered where Matteo and Sian had got to, and concluded that they must have got an early start.
‘Did you see?’ Giovanna said, pointing down beyond the low terrace wall to the lively city square below. Stalls were being constructed on the cobblestones, and people were
chattering animatedly around them. A big banner had appeared overnight:
FIRENZE – FESTIVAL DEL GELATO
The city was alive with festival colours. ‘It looks beautiful,’ Anna said enthusiastically.
‘More than that,’ Giovanna replied. ‘It is
delizioso
.’ She put two fingers to her lips to illustrate the point.
Anna was looking forward to the day and the evening ahead. Unless there were any major culinary disasters, they’d be receiving their end-of-course certificates, and then the whole class would be going out for a meal with Bianca in what she had assured them was one of Florence’s finest restaurants. After that, Anna thought, with a glow, she’d have time to explore the ice cream festival with Matteo and his friends.
Anna was only sorry Sian wouldn’t be able to make it due to her early flight – over an evening chatting and drinking prosecco by the river, they’d become close, and she’d be sorry to see her friend go.
After breakfast, she got her things ready for class, and walked out into the piazza. The clock tower showed half-past eight. Jon would probably only just have woken up, but she was longing to hear his voice after failing to get through to him at all the previous day. She got out her mobile and dialled his number.
‘Anna?’ he said, answering after just one ring.
‘Hi, Jon,’ she said, instantly relaxing at the familiar sound of his voice. ‘How are you?’
‘It’s lovely to hear from you. But listen, I’m just about to head into a breakfast meeting. Is it important?’
‘No, nothing urgent,’ she replied, trying to brush off the disappointment she felt. ‘I just wanted a chat, to catch up a bit. We haven’t spoken for a while.’
‘Of course. Everything’s fine. Sorry to ask, but do you think this could wait till tomorrow?’ Jon said. ‘I’m really pushed today. But I’ll come and pick you up from the airport. It’s nine p.m. you’re getting in, right?’
‘Nine twenty,’ Anna said. ‘I emailed you the flight number. I can’t wait to see you again.’
‘OK, darling. See you then.’
‘I love you,’ Anna said.
‘I love you too,’ he said quietly, like he always did in the crowded office. ‘Have a safe journey back.’
At the end of their final day on the course, Bianca had given the whole class certificates and insisted they deserved a round of applause. ‘Now to celebrate,’ she’d said. ‘Tonight we are going out to dinner, and you’re going to have the best food you’ll taste here in Florence.’
The accademia’s students and their proud teacher settled down at a cosy, family-run trattoria with red-and-white chequered tablecloths, wooden furniture and a menu full of hearty pastas, pizzas and risottos. Anna was relieved to find that Bianca hadn’t meant best in a Michelin-starred sense – her budget would never have stretched to that.
Anna ordered a pizza, which arrived laden with fresh artichokes and mushrooms, stone-baked to perfection, and, starving after a day of hard work in the kitchen, she took a big bite.
She’d been pleased with her experiment that day, a fresh and light quince ice cream – in fact it was probably the best one she’d made all week. But in spite of her culinary success, she hadn’t been able to relax. She couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong, but there was something in Jon’s tone that had unsettled her. She couldn’t wait to see him and Alfie again, so why did it seem as if she was further down his list of priorities right now? Was she being too demanding? She resolved to give him space when she got home. If there was an issue he’d tell her in his own time.