Page 112 of All Mine
‘They’re beautiful!’ Isabella exclaimed. ‘Sorry, have we met before?’
‘Not me, but you might recognise myboyfriend. . .’ the woman said. The man leaned forward conspiratorially and suddenly Isabella recognised him. Andy, the drunken lothario from The Bolthole.
‘You recommended an app to him on how to talk to women? Well, it worked. He asked me out. And we wanted to say thank you.’
Isabella was quite overwhelmed, and even more so when Jesse was next in the queue. His beard was trimmed so perfectly that it looked to be drawn on and he pulled her into a hug that smelled reassuringly expensive.
‘Gabi rang me!’ he said. ‘And you know how much I love you– so I brought you my Emma Bridgewater mug collection for your coffees.’
She gasped, knowing how much he loved his pottery, but he flapped a hand at her, and whispered, ‘And the visit’s been more than worth it already, as I met that gorgeous man over there.’ He smiled, waving as Toby emerged again from the restaurant, now empty-handed. Toby mouthed ‘call me’ as he held his thumb to his ear and his pinky to his mouth. Jesse danced on the spot and Isabella laughed.
‘Can’t stay today, my darling, but I will be back!’ he said, and then, throwing a last look over at Toby’s departing rear, ‘That’s for certain!’
Millie Malone and some of her art class friends came next, carrying between them a ten-foot canvas which hadTutto Miopainted across it in beautiful cursive script. In every corner there were vines which trailed around the frame.
‘Grazie mille,’ Millie said, grinning. ‘Guess what?’
‘What?’ Isabella’s head was so scrambled she couldn’t even attempt a guess.
‘I’ve been predicted an A* for my Italian.’ Millie was bursting with excitement to tell her. The words ran over themselves in her grin.
‘Auguri!’ Isabella said and Millie extended her hand for a shy fist bump.
The rest of her art class followed with terracotta plant pots for each table and the windowsills, painted and decorated with shells and glass and stones, each and every one different.
Last came mirrors and art and accessories. People of all ages brought all kinds of art. Metal wall hangings, photographs and paintings. The calligraphy group at The Lit Lounge turned up with hand-scripted menus and drinks cards. The garden centre brought a tray of plants for the tables and windowsills.
The last person in the queue, the very last, was Fred Barrow. The cameraman zoomed in. Michelle Carter got ready to wrap up.
‘This is for you,’ Fred said, handing over a rectangular parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
It was a framed map. But not just any old framed map. It was one of Nonna’s that she’d lent him, that had been saved from the fire because he’d been showing it to someone else outside at the time the fire began at Heart of Honeybridge. It showed the region where Nonna grew up all those years ago, the mountain that protected the village in which she lived. The river she played in as a child. It was perfect to have on the wall of Tutto Mio. Tears streamed down Isabella’s face as she threw her arms around Fred.
‘So, community spirit is alive and well in Honeybridge,’ Michelle Carter said to the camera, stepping back into shot. ‘And because of that, Tutto Mio will open for business tomorrow as planned. Is there anything you’d like to say, Isabella?’
The fluffy microphone was pointing her way. She wiped her eyes and felt the ache in her cheek from smiling.
‘A huge thank you to Honeybridge for welcoming me in. It truly is the most wonderful place to live. And I can’t wait to open the doors to Tutto Mio tomorrow.’ She flashed a glance at Michelle, who rolled her eyes and gave a quick single nod. Isabella looked straight down the camera and beamed.
‘Everyone’s welcome!’
Chapter Sixty-Two
Etienne
Etienne could hear Isabella outside thanking Michelle and the cameraman and knew she’d be in at any moment.
‘Positions!’ he hissed. The team dashed to their tables and held their breath as the door opened.
She stopped in her tracks, putting her hands to her mouth. Etienne watched her face as she took it in.
The mismatched collection of tables and chairs from homes around the community. The Tutto Mio mural taking pride of place. Flowers or pot plants on every table with an assortment of candlesticks, all lit and flickering softly. Mirrors on every wall, reflecting light into every corner. Brightly coloured cushions on the benches, knitted and crocheted blankets hanging on the backs of a few chairs. All the glasses were lined up on the shelves, awaiting all the future toasts and celebrations of engagements, birthdays or anniversaries. Or a nice family meal out, just because.
And the team standing by their waiting stations, brimming with pride.
Isabella turned in a slow circle in the centre of the dining room, absorbing every detail, running her hand over a chair back. Finally, she lifted her hands as if weighing the air and then let them fall to her sides.
‘It’s perfect,’ she said on a sob. ‘Absolutely perfect. Thank you.’
