The Ingredients for Happiness Read online

  More recently came the added challenge of preparing five impeccable outfits for Italy’s Young Designers Fashion Showcase that was now only a few months away. Giulia had worked her magic and Louisa was the youngest designer on the bill, not to mention the newest. No pressure. Louisa hadn’t been expecting this. Giulia had brought her on board initially to help her with Milan Fashion Week in the autumn but when Louisa had shown Giulia her sketches, Giulia had waved her hands dramatically in the air in typical passionate Italian fashion while shouting ‘Bellissima, bellissima!’ Giulia then proceeded to busy herself with phone calls that Louisa was not to overhear – she would receive a wagging finger if she was caught earwigging – for a few days before she announced the news about the showcase to Louisa. It had all been extremely hush hush with the showcase being a prestigious event and difficult to get a spot at. Louisa felt eternally blessed to have Giulia on her side.

  Now Louisa stood with pins in her mouth, eyes like slits, concentrating on getting the perfect fold to the hem of one of the pieces she was making for the showcase – a beautiful crochet-covered, contrasting-collared black and pearl dress – when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She gave a slight jerk as it tickled her thigh and plunged her hand into her cardigan pocket desperate for it not to cut off.

  Prodding the mannequin with the pins she was holding, careful not to prick herself, she quickly swiped the green answer button.

  ‘Amanda, hey,’ she said, loudly, excitement in her voice at being able to speak with her big sister. It had felt like forever, when truthfully it had only been two days, but with Amanda being busy at the café and Sabrina still in LA trying to get the boys a record deal, she hadn’t been hearing from them much.

  ‘Hey Lou, how’s it going? How’s galivanting around Italy with a drop-dead gorgeous Italian and eating cake the size of a football going?’ Amanda asked. Louisa could almost see her sister playfully smirking down the line.

  ‘It’s going swimmingly,’ Louisa noted, a smile creeping up on her face as she leaned back, resting against her office chair and eyeing up the dress in front of her. It seemed Amanda had been checking her Instagram – that was at least a good sign where her sister’s blog was concerned. Hopefully Amanda had actually started to understand how to use it.

  ‘Happy to hear it. So, what’s new?’ Amanda asked. Louisa hopped up on her chair, turning away from the dress that was distracting her from being one hundred per cent present with her sister. She had been waiting patiently to talk to Amanda over the past couple of days, excited to share the showcase news with her. The difficult hem on the dress could wait.

  ‘I’ve got an incredible opportunity coming up actually that I’ve been dying to tell you about,’ Louisa started, absentmindedly picking up a red pencil crayon and shading in a flared skirt on another design she was working on.

  ‘Oh yeah, me too, but you first. Tell me, tell me,’ Amanda sang. Louisa smiled; she sure did miss her sister – even the sarcasm and teasing she so often dished out.

  ‘So, Giulia got me this amazing opportunity to take part in Italy’s Young Designers Fashion Showcase, I still can’t believe it to be honest, but being here, well … I’ve been designing nonstop, it’s like all my passion has coming flooding back, inspiration is everywhere,’ Louisa gushed, pausing in her drawing to gaze out of the office window and into the pretty shop glittering with stunning fabrics and extraordinary pieces. She could just make out the edge of the Pasticceria Pansa sign to the right across the way from their shop. How was this her life now?

  ‘Lou that’s awesome. Oh, I’m so proud of you. Wow,’ Amanda said, a little breathless, which made Louisa’s smile grow wider. It meant the world to have her sister’s support. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed Amanda’s words to give her that extra boost of confidence. The dress she had been working on today had been bugging her, she just couldn’t get it right. Amanda’s words encouraged her. ‘Maybe if things are going according to schedule here, I can come and watch,’ Amanda added. Louisa shrieked at the thought of her sister coming back again soon. She knew Italy wasn’t far but understood work could get in the way. They had been used to Sabrina living across the world for four years and accepted each other’s dreams. Though Louisa’s cheeks flushed at remembering the times she hadn’t been so understanding of Sabrina being so far from home.

  ‘Thanks Amanda, that would be lovely. I’d really like that,’ Louisa replied, twirling her crayon between her fingers. ‘So, go on, tell me your news?’

  ‘Well …’ Amanda paused. If Louisa knew her sister this would be for dramatic effect. ‘I think everything should be set for March 23rd – our opening day, can you believe it?’ Louisa could have sworn her big sister actually squealed. ‘I mean the place is still a mess and I don’t have electricity yet, but you know, that’s the plan.’

  ‘That’s amazing Amanda, wow. This is a great day for good news. Wait …’ Louisa suddenly felt sweaty as she reached out for her desk calendar. March 23rd, March 23rd, why did it ring a bell?

  ‘Is everything okay Lou?’ Amanda questioned, her voice holding a hint of concern.

  ‘Yes, everything’s fine. Just one second,’ Louisa said hastily, flicking through the sheets on the calendar to a month from now. She cast her eyes on March 23rd. Staring back at her, written in bright pink marker and circled with stars either side, was ‘Italy’s Young Designers Fashion Showcase’. Her heart sank.

  The showcase was everything her heart desired, but she hadn’t accounted for missing Amanda’s opening day. Just like Amanda had been dreaming of the day, so had Louisa. She couldn’t wait to witness her sister make her dreams come true and honour their grandpa’s dreams too. But she had been working on the pieces for the showcase day and night for a month now and had eagerly, and nervously, been counting down the days to make her entrance into the fashion industry. An opportunity like this was like gold dust. She was an unknown in the fashion world, but with Giulia’s help her designs had slowly been making their rounds within Giulia’s well-connected circle. She couldn’t possibly blow this opportunity and skip out on the showcase and nor did she want to – well, maybe just a little bit now that she had heard Amanda’s news.

  ‘Lou?’ Amanda’s concerned voice asked again.

  ‘I’m so sorry Amanda, but I won’t be able to make it. March 23rd is the day of the showcase,’ Louisa informed her big sister, feeling deflated, not only because she wanted to be at Amanda’s grand opening but because she had well and truly been floating on cloud nine at the thought of having her sisters at the showcase with her.

  ‘That’s okay, Lou,’ Amanda said, though her voice lacked the same enthusiasm as before. ‘You’ll just have to take lots of pictures and we’ll Facetime so neither of us miss out.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess,’ Louisa replied, shuffling off her stool and tugging the pins from out of the mannequin.

  ‘Sorry Lou, but come on, you’re going to kick butt at the showcase and my café will hopefully still be here when you’re able to come and visit,’ Amanda said. Louisa noted the slight wobble in her voice though Amanda tried to keep her voice strong. Louisa imagined her sister had plenty to be anxious about with opening her café so she didn’t want to sulk too much or burden her sister with feeling bad about not being able to get to Italy as soon as she had hoped.

  ‘Sounds good, Amanda. I’m certain it will be. They will be queuing for miles to get a taste of your food,’ Louisa said, a touch spritelier.

  ‘Thank you, Lou. Right, give my love to that Italian god of yours and I’ll catch you soon.’ They hung up after a chorus of love yous and Louisa willed herself to focus on the task of the disobedient hemline instead of the pity party her brain was conjuring up over not being able to be in two places at once.

  *

  ‘Amore, you are tired no?’ Giulia’s perfectly shaped brows were creased in concern as she took in Louisa. Louisa had spent the past few hours trying to get the correct hemline on her lace piece, but she couldn’t shake the fe
eling that she was going to be missing out on a big day in her sister’s life.

  In comparison to Giulia, who rivaled Sophia Loren with today’s choice of updo and fitted black dress with blood-red kitten heels, Louisa’s eyes were now dreary, her concealer creased from squinting and wiping at her eyes too much. She had kicked off her heels two hours ago and the chill that ran through her bones over what she was feeling had lent itself to her grabbing one of Luca’s giant hoodies that now hid her demure blouse.

  ‘Si, ma I’ll be okay,’ Louisa smiled at Giulia. Giulia wandered over to the dress Louisa had been working on and allowed her hands to caress the material as she studied Louisa’s work.

  ‘E bella. These judges at the showcase are going to be blown away by your pieces,’ Giulia breathed, in admiration of the outfit. Louisa felt inspired by Giulia; everything from her Italian fashion, the way her words came out like a song when she spoke and her girl boss attitude, made Louisa love her that little bit more. She could see so much of Luca in her and was starting to understand their family traits. Since starting work with Giulia a month ago, she had been taken aback with her kindness, her relaxed yet businesslike manner and how much passion she had for her work. It was contagious and something she also caught when spending time with Luca. Their upbeat attitudes and joy of both life and work had been rubbing off on Louisa. Compared to the stress of her old nine-to-five reception job – the harassed looks on her co-workers faces and the constant countdown for the weekend – working with Giulia was complete bliss. Every day was cause for a celebration of amazing food and adventure. Louisa felt calmer than she had ever felt and truly more motivated with her creations.

  Giulia stepped back from the garment Louisa had been working on and looked up at the clock.

  ‘We must get going,’ Giulia said with a sweet smile, the clock having moved to ten past four. It was family time now or time to grab a coffee with friends or prepare the dinner. Work for the day was done, if Louisa could call it work; she loved what she did. As Giulia stepped back, Louisa noticed the pins on her hem had moved. She did a double take as she watched Giulia move towards the door and she herself grabbed her bag. Casting another look at her dress before she followed Giulia’s shouts of ‘Viene, viene, come, come,’ she shook her head. The woman was like her guardian angel sent down by Grandpa to guide Louisa and put her on the right path.

  With the hemline now perfect and ready to be sewn in the morning, it gave Louisa a sense of purpose. She appreciated this opportunity that Giulia had given her; she needed to focus on what she was doing and the passion she had inside her and not what she was missing back home. She had given up too easily last time on her fashion dreams at university; now she needed to face the fears of being away from her family and not run back home the minute it got tough.

  Chapter 4

  Grandpa’s Focaccia

  Ingredients:

  1 sachet of yeast

  1 cup warm water

  1 tsp salt

  1 tsp sugar

  Sprinkle of fennel seeds

  1/3 cup of olive oil

  3 ½ cups of Tipo 00 flour

  What to do:

  Place warm water, salt, sugar and yeast in a bowl. Mix and allow to sit for fifteen minutes.

  Add your flour, fennel and olive oil and another dash of salt for more flavour.

  Allow to rise for at least an hour, covered under a tea towel and in a warm spot. (Grandpa sometimes placed near radiator.)

  Roll out. (You can use a rolling pin or just manipulate it with your hands to make your rectangle shape and prod with your fingers to flatten it. No harm getting stuck in and it makes it more rustic.)

  Cover with tea towel on baking sheet for twenty minutes, drizzle with a touch more olive oil, then bake at 180 degrees for 20–25 minutes, until crisp and golden.

  When they had returned from Italy in the New Year, Amanda had been a ball of energy – a woman on a mission and a force to be reckoned with. She and Dan had buried themselves in newspapers and estate agent windows, as well as tirelessly wandering the streets of Manchester looking for the perfect location for her café. She was now standing in front of that perfect location, terrified of going inside.

  The paperwork had been straightforward, though Amanda had certainly been glad of Dan’s presence. As was the case with her blog and social media, she wasn’t one for reading the fine print, editing, or patience – she just wanted to get in and create her vision. But once the paperwork had cleared, Dan had joined Sabrina and the boys back in LA and Amanda was left to face the task of building a café from the ground up, with no previous experience, knowledge, or known skills when it came to flooring, shop-fitting or that of plumbing or electrical matters. Her dream had quickly turned into a shambles.

  The door creaked open and she made a mental note to remember to get WD40 on it sooner rather than later. She stepped over the threshold with her eyes closed and breathed in the smell of plastic and a subtle burning scent. ‘Oh god, what’s that?’ she said out loud. She flicked the light switch and opened her eyes, but nothing happened. When she flicked it again, she heard a click and a hiss and the wire that was dangling from the ceiling sent out a spark. She quickly pulled her phone from her pocket and turned on its flashlight. Newspaper covered the floor in addition to a layer of dust, and the plastic-covered tables and chairs were piled high to one side. The newly painted walls were splotchy, with paint having made its way onto the skirting boards and light fixtures. The place was a mess.

  ‘Okay Amanda,’ she told herself, ‘you have to fix this. When the electrician comes today, he needs to know that this won’t do, and that you need your kitchen up and running this week.’ She carefully treaded over the newspapers to put her bag down on the bar, still using her phone for light when it started ringing. Her dad’s name appeared on the screen.

  ‘Hi Dad,’ Amanda answered, as chirpily as she could. ‘How are you?’ She went to lean on the counter but thought better of it with the dust and grime present in a thick layer, so instead hovered by it awkwardly.

  ‘Hi sweetheart. I wanted to check in on the work at your café. How’s it looking? Do you need any help today?’ he asked. Amanda could hear the pride in his voice when he said, ‘your café’ and she didn’t want to let him down. The girls had been lucky, growing up with parents who supported them in all they wanted to do. Amanda wouldn’t have travelled the world, exploring exotic cuisine or completed her strenuous placements in restaurants over the years if it wasn’t for their encouragement and belief in her that she could do it. Now, with no job and Jeff having tainted her reputation, this café had to work. She wasn’t just doing this for herself and her career, she was doing this for her family.

  ‘Everything’s fine thanks, Dad. I’ve got it all under control,’ she gulped, looking into the gloomy abyss. He had already helped unload the furniture earlier this week, which he had done with a smile on his face, but Amanda hadn’t missed his occasional pauses where his hands rested on his lower back, while he took in deep breaths, pain crinkling his eyes. He wasn’t as young as he looked and when Amanda had rung her parents’ house at 7 p.m. that evening to thank him once more, her mum had answered and told Amanda she would pass on her message in the morning when her dad woke up. The day had wiped him out. She couldn’t do that to him again. ‘Have a good day, Dad, and I’ll keep you posted,’ she said, ending the call. She glanced around at the dark and dreary shell of a café and then down at her watch.

  ‘Okay, so the electrician will be here any minute and I’ll just text the decorators and ask when they’ll be coming back to do another coat and final touch ups and clean the sockets and skirtings, then everything really will be fine,’ she said. She walked over to the bay window and rolled up the matte gold blinds that had recently been put in, just enough to let some light in but not enough for onlookers or paparazzi to get a good look. San Francisco Beat were a big deal – the media had already sniffed out Dan’s scent while he was visiting and helping her look for a place
.

  Thinking of Dan made her pulse quicken but her stomach sink. She missed him like she’d never missed anyone before, and she wished he were with her, making this task feel less daunting than it was. But she understood his work; she knew his life was his band and it made her happy to know that he was living his dream. She had to admit that it felt different now though. He’d been gone three weeks and the distance and time difference had thrown her for a loop. Had it been this difficult to stay in touch when they were just friends? Anyway, she couldn’t think about that right now. She had to get her own dream back on track. Another crackle and spark jolted her from daydreaming of Dan, and she turned abruptly to see that it came from one of the plug sockets by the bar. ‘Any minute now, the electrician will be here,’ she repeated to herself. ‘Any minute now.’

  *

  The minutes turned into hours. It was now three in the afternoon and thankfully the day was still bright; the sun high above the houses, enough to cast a glow on her café, so she didn’t have to sit in the dark. Amanda was sprawled out on the cold unfinished floor, covered in dust and muck, feeling pretty useless and no longer caring about the state of her clothes. She had been waiting for the electrician since eight o’clock this morning and he still hadn’t turned up. She had received no reply from the decorators, and they were not answering their phone. She was feeling sorry for herself, missing Sabrina’s efficiency in a situation like this and replaying her conversation with Louisa from weeks ago, still feeling gutted that her little sister wasn’t going to make it to her café opening.

  This wasn’t like her at all and she hated herself for acting even remotely defeated. Grandpa would be having none of this. If he was here, he would be busy bustling around, making sure everything was done exactly the way he wanted, even if that meant doing it himself. Nothing would interrupt his vision, Amanda thought. With opening day looming in a little over two weeks, she could simply not afford to be sitting on a dirty floor when there was food to be ordered, staff to hire and ‘Electricity for Dummies’ to purchase. By the end of the day she would know how to rewire a light fixture; just because she was a chef, didn’t mean she could not or should not teach herself a bit of electrical DIY. Knowledge was power, her Grandpa would say, and she wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way of whipping up plates upon plates of rich sea salt focaccia to get the neighbours talking.