скачать книгу бесплатно
The Vintage Ice Cream Van Road Trip
Jenny Oliver
'You know you're in for a treat when you open a Jenny Oliver book' Debbie JohnsonFrom the top 10 best-selling author of The Summerhouse by the SeaWelcome to Jenny Oliver’s brand new Cherry Pie Island series! There’s nowhere more deliciously welcoming…If you were to ask Holly Somers how life is going at the moment she wouldn’t have a clue how to answer you… On the one hand she’s embarking on a retro-fabulous road trip in her vintage ice cream van all the way from Cherry Pie Island to the South of France. Plus, she’s sharing the journey with Wilf Hunter-Brown (quite possibly the most attractive man she’s ever met!)On the other? Well, apart from being unsure as to whether the rickety old ice cream van will actually make it to the Riviera, she and Wilf had a one-night fling a few weeks ago. Even worse, it seems there’s an unexpected little consequence of their impromptu night together. Life on Cherry Pie Island definitely hasn’t equipped Holly with knowledge of the best way to tell a super-rich entrepreneur with a womanising reputation that he’s about to become a Dad!Despite the heat of the Provencal sunshine you’d think you’d be able to keep cool inside an ice cream van – but the temperature is definitely rising. And with time running out to tell Wilf the truth, Holly’s dream roadtrip is fast becoming a nightmare on wheels! There’s no denying that this will be a journey to remember. When it comes to sundaes, Holly has always been partial to the more traditional flavours - but something’s telling her that this could be the time to take a chance and try something new…Perfect for fans of Lucy Diamond, Cathy Bramley and Jenny Colgan Praise for Jenny Oliver'I thoroughly enjoyed this book it had a sprinkling of festivity, a touch of romance and a glorious amount of mouth-watering baking!' - Rea Book Review'With gorgeous descriptions of Paris, Christmas, copious amounts of delicious baking that’ll make your mouth water, and lots and lots of snow – what more could you ask for from a Christmas novel!' - Bookboodle'The baking part of the book is incredibly well written; fans of The Great British Bake Off will not be disappointed to see all their favourites in here! This is a lovely little read that is perfect for the festive period!' - Hanging on Every Word'What a fun Christmas story! I loved the sound of this one and it was just as scrumptious as I had hoped!' - Fabulous Book Fiend'This is a festive read, but could equally be enjoyed at any time of the year - a lovely story to read with a huge cup of hot chocolate. And of course, a large wedge of cake.' - Books with Bunny'…it was everything i enjoy. Oliver did a wonderful job of allowing us to immerse ourselves in the lives of the pair, she created characters that were likeable and well rounded…I couldnt find a single flaw in the book.' - 5* stars from Afternoon Bookery toThe Little Christmas Kitchen
Welcome to Jenny Oliver’s brand new Cherry Pie Island series! There’s nowhere more deliciously welcoming...
The Cherry Pie Island series
The Grand Reopening of Dandelion Café – Book 1
The Vintage Ice Cream VanRoad Trip– Book 2
The Great Allotment Challenge – Book 3
One Summer Night at the Ritz – Book 4
The Vintage Ice Cream VanRoad Trip is Book 2 in The Cherry Pie Island series.
Also by Jenny Oliver (#u8f1ceb95-f703-5eb5-9cc1-efb50bbbd010)
The Parisian Christmas Bake Off
The Vintage Summer Wedding
The Little Christmas Kitchen
The Grand Reopening of Dandelion Café (Cherry Pie Island Book 1)
And look out for the next two books in the Cherry Pie Island series, coming soon in summer 2015
The Great Allotment Proposal
One Summer Night at the Ritz
The Vintage
Ice Cream Van Road Trip
Cherry Pie Island
Jenny Oliver
Jenny Oliver
wrote her first book on holiday when she was ten years old. Illustrated with cut-out supermodels from her sister’s Vogue, it was an epic, sweeping love story not so loosely based on Dynasty.
Since then, Jenny has gone on to get an English degree, a Masters, and a job in publishing that’s taught her what it takes to write a novel (without the help of the supermodels). Follow her on Twitter @JenOliverBooks (http://twitter.com/JenOliverBooks)
Contents
Cover (#u4bbb47f6-961b-5ef0-a46d-046a902d8bbe)
Blurb (#u1e57ca28-43f4-54e0-9391-5afa0565d429)
Book List
Title Page (#u66d710fe-cb8d-5270-8d37-e6dce639667b)
Author Bio (#u3992e11a-45a1-5da1-b254-c3b2c5b33391)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u8f1ceb95-f703-5eb5-9cc1-efb50bbbd010)
‘Have a look! Have a look! Quickly! You’re going to crash… You’re going to crash! Have a LOOK! Oh god.’
Holly Somers started jogging up the river bank, shielding her eyes from the sun so she could see the full impact of the chaos on the water in front of her.
Two junior rowing eights were careering down the river, blades all askew, panicking from the adrenaline of the side-by-side race, the umpire shouting at their coxswains to get them to move apart from one another as their blades crashed, while the crowds on the bank were cheering and pointing or hiding their eyes with their hands, because they knew disaster was coming.
‘Crews, move apart!’ the umpire shouted again, waving his white flag, but no one was listening. This was the youngest Cherry Pie rowing team, the crew members just thirteen ‒ awkward, gangly and not the most accomplished ‒ and this was their first race. Panic had overtaken reason.
‘They’re gonna hit the bridge,’ said Holly’s dad, head coach of the senior rowers. He was cycling up to the start but had paused next to Holly.
Holly had her hands up to her face, ‘STOP!’ she shouted again from the bank but to no avail.
Everyone had come to watch. Martha and Annie, from the cafe, had stopped serving teas and had run over to the water’s edge in their aprons, the crews waiting to boat had abandoned their equipment and grouped together to point and peer and shout instructions at the tiny, inexperienced, panicking rowers on the water.
And then the inevitable happened, the two boats, locked together by their oars, hurtled into the bridge, the noise of wood splitting, carbon fiber cracking, disgruntled swans flapping, and the yelps and screams of eighteen thirteen year olds filled the warm late spring air. The spectators in the hospitality tent let out a great roar of delight. This is what they’d come for ‒ a bit of action and drama to go with their champagne.
Holly’s dad sped off on his bike to the finish line to orchestrate the rescue efforts. ‘That’s two grand’s worth of equipment written off, Holly,’ he threw back over his shoulder. ‘Maybe you should go back to rowing rather than coaching,’ he added with a dry laugh.
Holly refused to rise to the bait. Ever since she’d quit, post-Olympics, he’d taken every opportunity to encourage her back into a boat. He thought it was wasted talent. Wanted her to keep going forever. She hadn’t crushed his dream completely by telling him that stopping had been like taking off a pair of sunglasses. The world suddenly brighter, sharper, hers to explore however she wanted.
But then neither had she then been able to tell him that she’d possibly explored it a little too much. Been a little too free.
She jogged to where the launches were tied up and jumped into one of the boats. The kids in the water, over their panic, now thinking it was hilarious, were splashing each other and swimming around in the sunshine. One of the rowing boats had snapped in two and the other had lodged itself upside down in the reeds on the bank. Some of the rowers were clambering out the water while the little coxswains were bobbing about like Violet Beauregarde in Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory, their life-jackets having inflated on impact of the crash.
‘Wait!’ shouted Annie, Holly’s friend and owner of the Dandelion Cafe, who was serving tea and cake at the regatta. ‘You can’t go and help on your own!’ she scolded.
‘Annie, I’m fine,’ Holly hissed.
‘Get Matt to help you.’ Annie looked around for her boyfriend.
‘He’s on the water already,’ Holly said, ‘He’s the next race.’
‘Well I’ll come with you then,’ Annie said, starting to untie her apron. ‘You can’t go and start hauling out kids from the river in your condition.’
‘Annie!’ Holly snapped. ‘Keep your voice down.’
Annie looked around. ‘No one’s listening, they’re all watching that–’ She pointed to the broken boats, the sopping wet kids, the blades snapped and broken that were floating forlornly downstream, then she jumped in the passenger seat of the motorboat. ‘I’ll do any lifting, you just drive.’
Holly sighed. ‘Fine,’ she said and they drove over to where the safety boats, the umpire’s launch and a couple of friendly tourists in a rent-a-boat were helping pull the giggling kids from the river.
‘Hi, miss!’ One of them, Julian, a lanky blond, shouted from where he was treading water, ‘Sorry about that!’
‘It’s fine, Julian,’ Holly said. ‘You getting in here or are you going to swim? We need to clear the race course.’
‘I’ll swim, miss.’
‘OK, off you go.’ Holly stood up in her seat making the boat wobble and Annie grip onto the sides. ‘You lot, start swimming to the edge, let’s go, come on!’ She ushered them all across the river. ‘Stop messing.’
‘We crashed, miss, did you see?’
‘Yes,’ Holly said to an eager red-head, ‘We all saw. As crashes go, it was very impressive.’
‘Holly!’ A voice shouted from the bank. ‘Is that you! And Annie! Hi, guys!’
They both turned and saw a woman with big, bouffant blonde hair standing on the bank in front of the hospitality tent. She had a glass of champagne in one hand, her sunglasses in the other and a turquoise straw trilby on her head.
‘Emily!’ Annie waved from the back of the boat. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Drinking champagne!’ Emily laughed.
‘Get the river clear, Holly,’ Holly’s dad shouted through a megaphone.
‘Hello, Mr Somers!’ Emily turned to look in Holly’s dad’s direction and waved enthusiastically.
Holly’s dad gave her a nod but was more interested in getting the regatta back under way and boomed some more instructions through his megaphone. ‘I’m going up to the start, Holly, can you get that half of the eight that’s stuck by the bridge, drag it over and then we can get going.’
Holly sat back down. All the kids were now either clambering out by the bank or in the safety launch, so she started to drive towards the broken bit of carbon fiber. Annie sat forward in her seat. ‘You haven’t told him, have you?’
Holly didn’t say anything.
‘You have to tell him, even just so you aren’t dragging great bits of boat out the river. Here, stop, Holly, I’ll get it.’ Annie reached forward from her seat and caught hold of two of the metal riggers on the broken boat and, hooking the oars across their motorboat, managed to secure it like a sidecar so Holly could drive them slowly back towards the bank.
They watched as all the soaking-wet kids congregated where Holly was about to moor, all bursting with stories to tell of the crash. Holly glanced over her shoulder at Annie. ‘I will tell him. I just…’ She shrugged. ‘I think I have to believe it myself first.’
Annie smiled, ‘Are you looking after yourself? Taking folic acid?’
