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 betheplace 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.
