Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery (30 page)

‘Well, whatever,’ said Polly.

There was a pause.

‘Oh,’ said Polly. ‘And you didn’t ask me if Neil has come back yet.’

‘Did Neil come back?’ asked Huckle in disbelief.

‘No,’ said Polly. And she hung up the phone.

‘You should be looking happier than you are,’ observed Kerensa, who had stopped off to see Polly between dashing from one meeting to another across the Cornish coast. She ate one of the sugar buns. It was delicious. She looked at another, then shook her head.

‘You can have one,’ said Polly.

‘I can’t,’ said Kerensa. ‘If I grow too big for these clothes, I can’t afford any others.’

‘Yes, and you shouldn’t be looking as happy as you are,’ said Polly. ‘I am horribly jealous.’

Kerensa smiled to herself.

‘Oh well, you know. It’s not so bad.’

‘What’s Reuben doing?’

‘Amazing things,’ said Kerensa. ‘We’ve worked our way through most of the Kama Sutra. Also, he’s working on a dating website for people who… take a bit of time to get to know.’

‘You mean ugly people?’

‘No!’ said Kerensa. ‘No, just people most folk don’t like when they meet them. He’s trying to get Malcolm to sign up.’

‘I don’t think Malcolm knows everybody hates him.’

They were picnicking in the fine weather out on the seafront by the harbour wall. Archie was fixing nets, rocked on top of his boat by the gentle swell, helped by Sten the Scandinavian. It was painstaking work. The sun was blazing.

Polly’s only problem now was capacity, in her own ovens and in the van itself. Whatever she made, she would sell. Holidaymakers were coming from far and wide: the local caravan park had let her put up a flyer, and now people would troop down with their flasks and sit outside the van on the rocks. Dog-walkers came past every day and made a morning collection, and the Mount Polbearne residents kept up their regular shopping lists via Muriel. It was all going incredibly well. Polly just needed somebody to share it with.

They both turned round. They weren’t sitting next to the Little Beach Street Bakery; Polly didn’t want to risk Malcolm coming out and shouting at her simply for existing in the same postcode, if Mount Polbearne even had a postcode. They were along the harbour a bit, but they could already hear the voice coming out of the shop, roaring.

It was Jayden, tearing off his apron, his round face totally red. He threw the apron back into the shop and marched out.

‘I quit, you absolute utter bastard!’

‘Uh-oh,’ said Polly. She had never seen Jayden cross in her entire life.

‘I quit, and nobody is going to work for a bastard like you!’

Polly jumped up and went towards him.

‘Are you all right, sweetie?’

‘He’s a bastard!’ said Jayden, marching straight up to them, out of breath and beside himself with distress. ‘Oh. Is that a toasted teacake?’

‘It is,’ said Kerensa. ‘And you can have it if you sit down and tell us every sordid detail.’

But Malcolm had already appeared in the doorway and, looking back at him, Polly reckoned she could already see the source of the problem, and what had been going so very wrong.

Malcolm had his arm possessively around Flora’s neck.

Polly gasped in astonishment. Flora looked as blank and unconcerned as she usually did, but Malcolm’s blubbery lips were open in a smile of triumph, and he stroked the girl’s shoulder smugly.

Polly shook her head in disbelief.

‘No way,’ she said. ‘She prefers
Malcolm
? How dare he lay his filthy paws on that beautiful girl?’

Jayden looked very close to tears.

‘What happened, Jayden? It’s not just because he’s her boss, is it? He didn’t insist or anything?’

Jayden shook his head.

‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s because she said she was tired of all the poetry and the flowers and stuff. I thought girls liked poetry and flowers.’

‘Flora is not like other girls.’

‘No.’ Jayden sighed. ‘You know what HE did?’

Polly shook her head again.

‘He bought her a mixer.’

‘She wants to bake,’ said Polly. ‘Is he going to let her? She could save the shop if he lets her bake.’

‘No, it’s just for fun. She’s not allowed to bake in the shop.’

‘THAT MAN!’

‘Did you know he plays the trumpet?’

‘I did know that,’ said Polly.

‘He’s been serenading her! Under her window!’

‘With a trumpet?’

‘All I can play is the spoons.’

‘Lots of people like the spoons,’ said Polly, trying to be reassuring.

‘Flora said she thought the spoons were rubbish,’ said Jayden. ‘I don’t think she liked the trumpet much either. But she liked the mixer. Also she said he talks to her, whereas everybody else just dribbles.’

‘Oh Jayden,’ said Polly. ‘That is bloody rotten news. I am so, so sorry.’

Jayden sniffed loudly.

‘I don’t care,’ he said. ‘It’s all crap what they sell anyway. Disgusting. It’s making everyone constipated, all that terrible white stuff. It doesn’t do anybody any good. Bungs up your insides. I hope it bungs up
his
insides,’ he said bitterly, glancing back at the Little Beach Street Bakery. He hung his head. ‘She was SO beautiful,’ he said mournfully.

Polly thought of the beautiful Flora. She had always kind of assumed that being beautiful would be a short cut to everything, not just a mixer.

‘Why won’t he let her bake in his shop?’ said Kerensa, shaking her head.

‘He said he didn’t want her to mess up her beautiful hands,’ said Jayden. ‘But you’re going to keep taking all his business, aren’t you?’ he added hopefully.

‘Well I tell you what, I don’t feel guilty about that any more,’ said Polly, who’d been the victim of too many bruising early-morning attacks. ‘But even more so now, knowing I won’t be doing you out of a job.’

‘Can I come and work for you?’ said Jayden. ‘Can I come to your van? I haven’t been allowed to visit it. Malcolm banned everyone. Sorry about that.’

‘That’s okay,’ said Polly, although she did think a little regretfully of those first few days without even the hint of a friendly face. ‘I understand. But Jayden, I don’t have enough business yet to pay you properly… I can probably let you do a few mornings and a bit of cleaning, but that’s about it. And I don’t even know if it’s going to keep up.’

‘Of course it is,’ said Kerensa. ‘All you needed was for people to discover how brilliant you are. Now that they have, you’re away!’

Polly smiled. ‘Thanks, K.’ She touched her hand.

‘I’ll do it,’ said Jayden. ‘I’ll shovel up all your mucky stuff. Then I’ll dump it on his doorstep.’

‘You will not,’ said Polly. Even though it was no longer hers, she still loved the beautiful soft grey of the Little Beach Street Bakery frontage; it was quite lovely, even if she couldn’t set foot over the threshold any more.

‘Okay,’ said Jayden. He added quietly to himself, ‘Maybe in his car.’

‘If you could do an early-morning shift,’ said Polly. ‘But it really isn’t much, I’m so sorry.’

‘I don’t mind,’ said Jayden. ‘Anything is better than working for that demon.’

Kerensa smiled at Polly.

‘When’s Huckle coming back?’

Polly’s slightly more buoyant mood deflated instantly.

‘Oh lord,’ she said. ‘Don’t ask.’

‘Ah,’ said Kerensa.

‘I can’t wait,’ said Polly. ‘I need him back! Soon! Now, in fact. I’m growing old up there on my own.’

‘Well I’ll be there at five,’ said Jayden stoically. ‘I’m going to go see if anyone else needs night work doing.’

‘Thanks, Jayden,’ said Polly. ‘You know, it’s going to be all right, I promise.’

They waited till he’d walked slowly off up the hill.

‘Is it going to be all right?’ said Kerensa in a low voice. ‘Of all the couples I never thought I needed to worry about, you two are top of the list.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Polly, hugging her knees. ‘I really don’t know.’

She remembered last year, when Huckle had just assumed she’d want to stay in Savannah with him, live the easy, sunny life of an American girl, let him look after everything. And it was appealing, no doubt about it, the thought of not having to worry about money, or deal with absolute rotters like Malcolm… Even as she was thinking this, she suddenly heard the sound of a trumpet start up somewhere in the distance, and heaved a sigh.

‘Is it worth it just to stay here?’ said Kerensa, putting into words Polly’s darkest fears. ‘If Huckle doesn’t want to come back?’

‘It has to be,’ said Polly stoically.

‘And it is lovely there,’ said Kerensa.

Polly looked around.

‘But look at this!’ she said. ‘Look at all of this! How is this not lovely?’

‘Because it’s freezing and we don’t have any money?’

‘No!’ said Polly. ‘Because it’s mine. It’s something I did and I built and it has its ups and downs, but it’s all my own work, do you see?’

‘But in America… that’s his too,’ said Kerensa, gently.

Polly swallowed.

‘But when I met him, he was just a honey seller. He was a local guy working in local food, local sourcing, creativity, just like me. Just like what I wanted to do.’

‘Yes, but back then, he was getting over an unhappy love affair, burying himself away. It wasn’t… it wasn’t necessarily who he truly was.’

There was a long silence after that.

‘Oh, K, do you really think so?’ said Polly.

‘I don’t know,’ said Kerensa. ‘But he’s not here. And I think it’s time you found out.’

Polly stared out to sea.

‘But I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave here.’

‘Why not?’ said Kerensa, softly. ‘There are lots of places you could be happy in, but at the moment Mount Polbearne is not one. It’s stressing you out like a mad thing. There are lots of places to be happy, but only one bloke I have ever seen you happy with, Polly Waterford.’

Polly bowed her head.

‘But the van is picking up.’

‘That’s true.’

‘And…’

‘And?’ Kerensa looked at her.

‘And I need to wait for Neil to come back.’

‘POLLY!’

‘I know, I know. But he will, I know it. And if I’m not there…’

‘Neil. Is. A. BIRD.’

‘He’s a very special bird.’

‘He’s off somewhere right now having an amazing time, doing whatever birds do. Okay? He has a little brain and is having the absolute time of his life being free. Like he has to be. You have to understand that.’

Polly nodded.

‘And if you let Neil get in the way of you and Huckle having a proper grown-up relationship, where from time to time you compromise on each other’s careers and let each other come and go and do whatever you need to do and support one another unconditionally – and by the way, Huckle has always supported you, even when you’re moaning about him taking on a major responsibility that must be a massive pain in the arse for him too – then you will be very, very sorry indeed. And I don’t think it’s what Neil would have wanted for you either.’

‘I know,’ said Polly.

She looked up, feeling rather hangdog, only to see Malcolm and Flora walking arm in arm along the seafront. Malcolm was gesturing expansively.

‘Oh yes, my family have been pretty important round here for a long time,’ he was saying in a loud voice. ‘Yes, we pretty much ran this town for hundreds of years. Go back a long way. It’s a great responsibility, of course.’

‘Wow,’ Flora was saying. ‘That’s amazing.’

She looked at her watch.

‘Ooh, I’ve missed the tide again.’

‘Not to worry,’ said Malcolm. ‘I’ve got a flat here too, of course.’

Flora spied Polly.

‘Oh, hello, Miss Waterford! Were you in the paper? My mam says you were in the paper. Not one of the ones we read, but still, in the paper! That’s good. They came and asked if they could take my photo too, but I said not likely.’

‘If they’d taken your photo, you’d have been whisked straight to London,’ said Polly. ‘Still not tempted?’

Flora shook her head.

‘Noooo. Full of disgusting old men trying to touch me up all the time, like always.’

Polly looked pointedly at Malcolm, but he stared impassively out to sea, ignoring her.

Flora stepped closer to Polly as Malcolm walked on.

‘I know what you think,’ she said quietly. ‘But I never meet anyone who’s just interested in me.’

‘Are you sure he’s not just pretending?’ said Polly.

Flora shrugged her shoulders.

‘Nobody else even tries,’ she said. ‘That cute bloke Jayden who worked for you. He doesn’t even say hello.’

‘Ah,’ said Polly.

Flora looked at the ground and scuffed her long, elegant foot across it.

‘I am sorry, you know,’ she said. ‘I did like it more in the bakery when you were doing stuff.’

‘Thanks,’ said Polly.

‘And your bird was amazing,’ she mumbled.

Polly looked up at her, surprised and touched.

‘That means a lot,’ she said. ‘Thank you. And don’t feel you have to —’

‘Flora!’ shouted Malcolm from further up the cobbled hill. ‘Come and show me that thing you do with the whirly machine.’

‘He wants me to bake for him!’ said Flora, pinkening. She set off after him, and Kerensa and Polly watched her go.

‘Cor,’ said Polly. ‘That “treat ’em mean keep ’em keen” thing works in strange ways.’

She stared out over the horizon. A great storm appeared to be blowing up, black clouds pushing hither and thither. She frowned at it.