Sweet Home Summer: A heartwarming romcom perfect for curling up with. Michelle Vernal
working in London for the last ten years, and I lived in Christchurch before that. I had a bit of a sunshine stop in California to break up the trip home.’
‘Ten years, that’s a long time to be away, has the place changed much?’
‘I haven’t had a chance to have much of a look around, but from what I saw yesterday, no it hasn’t changed a bit.’
‘Small towns are like that. That’s what makes them special I think.’
Isla hadn’t thought about it like that before. She’d always been on intent as making as much change as possible.
‘Why did you decide to come home?’ The woman looked over her shoulder from where she was setting the microwave timer. ‘Sorry, you can tell me to mind my own business if you like.’
‘It’s fine,’ Isla said before reeling off her new catchphrase. ‘I finally realized that I had no work-life balance and I was missing my family. It was just time to come home that’s all. What about you, you said Noeline’s your aunt?’
‘Mum’s second cousin actually. I just call her aunty, it’s a habit from when I was a kid, and it’s a long story, but I’ve only been here a month myself. I’m from Christchurch, but I’ve been living over in Crete for the last couple of years.’
Isla was intrigued. It was a big leap from Crete to Bibury, but then again so was London to Bibury. It was kind of nice to know she wasn’t the only new arrival back in town too. ‘That’s an interesting choice of place to go and live. I wouldn’t think there’d be much chance of stuffing up your work-life balance in the Greek Islands.’
She laughed. ‘Yup, stress isn’t a word that’s in their vocabulary. I went over on holiday initially but wound up staying. I met someone—’ The smile turned to a frown. ‘Oh crap! I forgot the ginger crunch; it’ll be ginger bloody crisp by now. Sorry, I’ll be back with you in a tick. Grab a seat.’
Isla watched her disappear out the back and went and sat down. She was spoilt for choice; the place wasn’t exactly buzzing. Her designer’s eye took in the worn décor. The café felt like it had given up hope. It was serviceable, a truck stop and nothing more. She caught sight of a sepia photograph on the wall. It was the only point of interest in the room. It was a group of hardened miners, frozen in time, the picks they were holding in front of them denoting the era.
That was what she would focus on were she to give the place a facelift – the mining history of the town. She would give it a rustic and welcoming vibe as befitted the Coast. That was what this part of the world was famous for after all, that and its storytellers. So busy was she making over the café in her mind’s eye that she barely noticed the door to the café jangle open.
It was only when she felt a warm breeze that she realized she was no longer the only customer. She glanced over in the direction of the door, and her expression froze. She’d know that back anywhere, she thought, her heart thudding. She suddenly wished she wasn’t feeling like such a crumpled wreck, as he turned and saw her.
‘Isla? Hi, wow, it’s been a while. I heard you were back.’
‘Ben, hey. How’s it going?’ Awkward, awkward, awkward and not just because this man had seen her naked. She knew he’d seen her yesterday when she’d sat with her nose in the air in the passenger seat of her dad’s Ute. Isla squirmed in her seat wishing she could press a button on her phone and transport herself anywhere but here. Instead, she began rearranging the little packets of sweetener and sugar in the pot on the table for want of something to do with her twitchy hands.
‘Yeah, pretty good actually. I don’t know if you heard, but I took over the garage last year.’
He was in his overalls, and his strong, familiar hands were resting on the back of the chair opposite her. His face had thinned out with age, and a light stubble decorated his jawline. He looked good, far too bloody good. Don’t go there, Isla Brookes. ‘Mm yes, Dad told me that your parents have retired. They’ve become cruising fanatics I hear. Good for them and you. It’s what you always wanted, so I hope business is booming.’
‘I can’t complain. There’s never any shortage of cars to fix, and people always need petrol. And yeah, the folks are hardly ever home these days. When they are, Dad’s started to talk in “cruise” speak, and Mum dresses for dinner.’
Isla forgot to be uncomfortable as she laughed at the image of Mrs Robson in formal attire, serving up steak, egg, and chips. ‘What’s cruise speak?’
‘Oh, things like “shall we have a cocktail or head up to the buffet for a bite?” I have to remind Dad that in Bibury its head up to the Pit for a pint of beer and a pie. They’re probably in Indonesian waters now as we speak, having High Tea or something.’
‘Good for them.’ She sounded like a jolly-them-along Girl Guides Leader.
‘Yeah, they’ve earned it.’
‘Do you still live at home then?’
‘God no!’ He laughed, and Isla was suddenly very aware that she was a thirty-year-old woman who’d just moved in with her grandmother.
‘I bought a house a few years back; it’s an old villa tucked down a back section off River Road. She’s a labour of love, but she’s home. So are you back for a holiday?’
‘No, I’m home for good.’
‘Really? I had you down as a big city girl these days.’
‘I’d had enough of big,’ she said shrugging. She wasn’t giving away any more than that. Or at least she hadn’t planned to. He was waiting for her to elaborate, and she couldn’t be doing with an awkward silence. ‘It was just time to come home and do something different and, well, Gran’s not getting any younger.’
‘I heard about her fall. That would’ve been a bit of a scare for her and you all. She’s a tough old bird though, nothing broken. So you’re staying with her?’
‘Yes, for the time being. It seemed like a good idea for me to be around to make sure there’s no repeat performance of her lying on the kitchen floor for hours in pain.’ She shuddered at the thought of her poor, dear grandmother helpless like that. ‘Besides Gran and I rub along well together whereas Mum, and I are great for the first couple of days and then it’s as if I revert to being a teenager, and she reverts to being a menopausal maniac. It’s not fair on Dad to put him through that again.’
Ben laughed. ‘I remember you and your mum used to have some real ding dongs.’
‘Oh yeah, our house was hormonal hell for a few years there.’
‘Hiya Ben, the usual?’
‘Hey Annie, yes ta.’
Isla felt a sharp pang of something she couldn’t quite pinpoint as his gaze flickered over to the counter. Once upon a time she’d have known what his usual was, now she wouldn’t have a clue.
‘What are you going to do with yourself then? I wouldn’t have thought there’d be much call for a high-flying interior decorator in Bibury.’
‘Oh I don’t know about that, people’s houses always need redecorating at some point.’
He smiled at her.
Annie popped the ginormous savoury scroll, cheese oozing out of its sides, down on the table.
‘Peckish then?’ Ben raised an eyebrow, and Isla felt her face flush. ‘How’s Kris settling in at the school, Annie?’ Ben was looking back at Annie.
‘Great, he’s enjoying it. A country school like Bibury Area is a big change to teaching at an urban Athens high school, but so far it’s all good. He says teenagers