Page 69 of All Mine (The All Mine #1)

Isabella

By four o’clock in the afternoon, Isabella was starting to panic.

The restaurant was still an empty space, although it was clean and free of debris and glass, and she was meant to open the next day.

There was a brown bloodstain soaked into one section of the old floorboards which hadn’t scrubbed out, but it didn’t look out of place as the floorboards were reclaimed and bore bruises and memories from their previous lives anyway.

It was now another piece of history– and one she felt curiously proud of.

No matter what people threw at her, she was going to get through it.

She messaged Etienne again. This time a single question mark.

She couldn’t see how this was going to work.

The closer it got to the end of the day, the less she could imagine opening tomorrow lunchtime with a fully functioning restaurant.

All day, he’d replied saying not to worry, to focus on the kitchen and the team.

Nonna had cooked endlessly, tray after tray of meatballs, preparing for the grand opening. Whenever Isabella expressed any kind of concern about whether it would happen, she’d shrugged and patted her arm, and said that Etienne was sorting it.

But by four o’clock, her anxiety was kicking in. Her message to him whizzed off into hyperspace and she awaited his reply. But it came in person. He rushed through the front door, rosy from the cold and with an excited smile.

‘Come outside,’ he said. ‘We’re ready for you.’

She frowned, confused. Who was he with and what was he doing and how was this going to get a restaurant open tomorrow?

What was with all the mystery? She stepped into the coat that Etienne held out for her and let him wrap a scarf around her neck.

He kissed her quickly on the nose, then gestured for her to lead the way out to the square.

The cheering took her by surprise. The TV camera in her face was also a bit of a shock.

But the long line of people waiting outside the restaurant was the most astonishing thing she’d ever seen.

The queue went all round the four sides of the square.

People of all ages, some she recognised, others she didn’t, all bundled up in coats and hats, holding various items in their hands or in bags.

She recognised the cameraman. It was the same guy from the Spare Room Sleepover, and there beside him was the reporter, Michelle Carter. The camera was firmly focused on Isabella, capturing the confusion and the wonder on her face.

Etienne wrapped her in his arms and even though she’d only missed him since this morning, it had already been too long.

‘What’s going on?’ she whispered into his shoulder.

‘You’ll see,’ he said, pressing a kiss to her mouth.

Michelle Carter cleared her throat and puffed her hair with one hand.

‘Ready?’ she said to Isabella, who had absolutely no idea what she should be ready for. Michelle, without waiting, beamed down the camera as she started.

‘Here we are back in Honeybridge, the riverside town which doesn’t often get media attention. But twice in the last week, it has shown itself to be the place to live if you love community and friendship.’

Michelle spread her arm wide, and the cameraman panned from her to Isabella and Etienne and then slowly along the waiting line of residents, following them on all sides. As they saw the camera pointed their way they did a crazy-looking Mexican wave, with various household items in their hands.

‘A few days ago we reported on the Spare Room Sleepover. A genius campaign created by Isabella Tucci, here with her boyfriend, Etienne Martin.’ Michelle moved to stand next to them.

Etienne’s arm remained around her shoulders, holding her in place.

The camera refocused on them and Isabella was glad she’d taken her apron off already.

‘Her campaign brought the entire community together to make sure the residents affected by a fire in the elderly residential home had somewhere safe and comfortable to stay. She organised it all even though she’s only lived here for a few months, putting people first and helping where she could.’

Isabella could feel a flush creeping up her neck.

‘So, when Isabella’s family and her new restaurant were the victims of a brutal attack which destroyed all her hard work, the community were more than happy to step up for her too.’

Michelle gestured with her arm again, showing the sheer numbers of people gathered in the square.

‘Right, let’s get this restaurant sorted out!’ she called to the waiting line.

The cameraman stepped aside and Michelle waved the first people forward.

It was like a receiving line at a wedding, Isabella and Etienne standing by the door of Tutto Mio as the line slowly edged towards them.

First in line were the waiting team, all wearing their blue shirts and jeans under their jackets.

They proceeded past her into the restaurant, talking about ‘taking positions’.

Wren and Rosie came next, carrying a whitewashed wooden table between them which would seat four. Isabella recognised it from The Lit Lounge.

‘From us to you,’ Wren said, pausing to give her a squeeze as they carried it inside. The camera caught it all, including the brimming tears as Isabella finally realised what Etienne had organised. He winked at her and followed Wren inside to direct where everything went.

The next table was a six-seater, old and pine, carried by a family with a bespectacled six-year-old girl who said ‘ Ciao ’ with a shy smile.

The next were Amber’s next-door neighbours, who she had never met, but who told her they had heard so much about her. She blinked, taken aback by people’s kindness.

After another fifteen tables of various sizes were brought in by people she recognised, and others she didn’t, the chairs started. She put her hands to her head in astonishment.

Wooden chairs, white-painted chairs, wicker chairs and a couple of benches came through. A gorgeous dark-haired man introduced himself as Toby, Riley’s dad, and presented her with a high chair and a hug, saying, ‘Every restaurant needs one.’

Everyone headed one by one into the restaurant with their offerings and reappeared a few moments later, waving at the camera, smiling, happy.

Next came glasses. She recognised a few of the older people from the Heart of Honeybridge. Brigitta turned up with a set of sherry glasses, beautiful and stylish, as Isabella would expect.

‘We managed to get into some of the units to claim some items,’ Brigitta said, tapping her nose, and Isabella gave her a tearful smile as she went in the front door.

The next couple were grinning at her. The man looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place the woman as she lifted a beautiful antique-looking set of champagne coupes in an aged box.

‘They’re beautiful!’ Isabella exclaimed. ‘Sorry, have we met before?’

‘Not me, but you might recognise my boyfriend . . .’ 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 had Tutto Mio painted 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!’