Free The Heavenly Italian Ice Cream Shop by Abby Clements Page A

then revealed a fountain in the middle, with children playing around it. ‘And inside . . .’ She pushed open the glass door, and Anna could hear her talking to the owners in Italian, explaining what she was doing. ‘You’ve got all of this space out the front, and then a good kitchen . . .’
    Anna took in the traditional décor – some stylish but a lot of it tired, and she felt a wave of excitement about doing it up.
    Carolina showed the tables, full of people enjoying their weekend ice creams. ‘You’ll have the existing customer base, with room to build on that – and this is winter, of course. Your plan is to come out for the summer, isn’t it?’
    Matteo and Anna looked at each other, and he waited for her answer.
    ‘Yes,’ Anna said, nodding. ‘That’s right.’
    ‘Just the summer?’ Carolina asked.
    ‘Well, maybe longer,’ Anna said.
    ‘Really?’ Matteo said hopefully.
    ‘We’ll need to stay long enough to make the investment worthwhile, won’t we?’ Anna said. The thought still unnerved her, but it excited her too.

Chapter 8
    Imogen sipped from a bottle of Sol, her gaze drifting out to the seagulls that were swooping down on to the pebbles, hoping to find a discarded chip wrapper. She and Finn were sitting at a bar down by the arches, after he’d closed the surf school.
    ‘How did it go today?’ Finn asked her.
    She looked back at him, feeling bad that she’d drifted off. ‘It was OK. Lauren’s offered to give me some assistant work on some of her shoots, weddings, kids’ photography sessions. It’ll help pay the bills.’
    ‘That’s good,’ he said. He noticed the look on her face. ‘Isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes.’ She shrugged. ‘I guess. I mean work is work. But I just thought . . .’ She tried to fight back the feelings of disappointment. ‘It’s assistant work. It feels like a bit of a backwards step, to be honest. I thought I’d be out in Brazil now, putting together photos for the book, and instead I’m going to be here, helping Lauren take photos of people’s weddings and babies.’
    ‘It won’t be for ever,’ Finn said. ‘And at least it’s photography.’
    ‘I know. I’m being impatient,’ she said. ‘I just thought, after New York, you know, all of those photos getting sold. I thought I was going to get somewhere.’
    ‘You
are
somewhere,’ Finn said. ‘You’re just not quite where you want to be yet, that’s all. Anything worth having takes time.’
    ‘I thought I’d already put in that time, back when we first got together – and now I feel like I’m treading water,’ she said. She felt frustrated. She was stuck here on the south coast while there was a whole world to explore.
    ‘Look, I know it’s not the Amazon,’ Finn said, ‘but how would you like a break away this weekend, a change of scene?’
    ‘I don’t know. I should probably be saving . . . I don’t know what work’s coming in for the next few months.’
    ‘Don’t worry about that,’ Finn said. ‘I’ve got some savings. It would be good to spend some time together, just the two of us. It feels like ages since we did that.’
    ‘OK,’ Imogen said, brightening at the thought. ‘Let’s do it.’
    ‘This weekend?’
    ‘Do you really have to ask?’ She laughed. ‘I haven’t got any plans for the rest of the year.’
    That Saturday night Imogen and Finn were out in the New Forest, in a cosy log cabin, by an open fire. There were no other houses for miles around, and the evening was still and quiet. That day they’d gone horse riding together, the rest of the world disappearing for a while as they galloped through the trees. The owner of the cabin, a kind man in his midforties, had come and helped them saddle up, then left them to it. They’d come home to a fully packed fridge and cooked up chicken with roast vegetables, dining by the fireside and drinking wine before retiring to the sofa, where they were now sitting.
    ‘What a perfect day,’ Imogen said, leaning back