Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 28
Huckle looked at her, and something in his eyes made her think he understood her own precarious position.
‘Er,’ he said. ‘Well, I kind of…’
Everyone was staring at him expectantly.
‘I kind of… I mean, the honey was very much a kind of lifestyle change, you know?’
Jayden clearly didn’t understand. Then he did.
‘You mean you don’t have to work?’ he said, eyes wide. ‘Are you rich?’
Huckle went slightly pink and looked away. ‘Aw, man, it’s not like that,’ he said, but he didn’t finish the sentence and looked shy.
‘Have you got a helicopter?’ said Jayden. Huckle laughed.
‘No,’ he said.
‘Damn,’ said Polly. ‘I should definitely have done it your way before my career change. Getting rich should have been on my to-do list.’
Now they all looked at her, and she blushed too and quickly changed the subject. ‘Anyway!’ she said, starting to scoop up crumbs. ‘Can anyone tell me how to get a bus to the puffin sanctuary?’
‘Why?’ said Tarnie, but he realised why when he saw her face. ‘Oh no. Not Neil?’
Neil was sitting next to Polly on the harbour wall, lazily pecking at a piece of bagel. He looked up when he heard his name.
‘Apparently I am being very cruel to him and not respecting his animal rights,’ said Polly sadly.
‘Well, he is getting fat,’ pointed out Tarnie.
‘My puffin is not fat!’ said Polly crossly. ‘Also, he’s still young. Don’t talk about him like that. You could really affect his self-image.’
‘Well, that would be good,’ said Tarnie. ‘Then he’ll know he’s fat and do something about it. No point ignoring the obvious.’
Polly stuck her tongue out at him. ‘He is a beautiful puffin.’
‘There isn’t a bus,’ said Jayden. ‘You need to get a special coach. We went there on a school trip. It’s all I remember about that entire year.’
‘Was it good?’ said Polly. ‘Is it a nice place to be?’
‘I threw up on the coach,’ said Jayden.
‘Ha!’ said Huckle. ‘Er, I mean, I’m sorry about your puffin.’
Polly stroked Neil’s wings thoughtfully.
‘It’s okay,’ she said, her voice cracking slightly. ‘I’m getting good at letting go of things recently.’
Everyone went quiet, then Huckle jumped up.
‘I can take you,’ he said.
Tarnie looked up, as if he’d been thinking the same thing.
‘Have you got a car?’ Polly asked.
‘Not exactly,’ said Huckle.
At that precise moment, a shadow passed over the little group. Neil hopped protectively closer to Polly, who looked up, still feeling a little shaky, to be confronted by the substantial figure of Gillian Manse.
‘Oh for goodness’ sake,’ Polly said quietly to herself.
‘What’s this?’ said Gillian, her harsh voice echoing off the harbour walls. ‘Doing picnics now, are we? I don’t think that’s in the lease.’
There were crumbs everywhere. The seagulls were lined up on the wall, waiting for their chance to pounce once everyone had gone. Half-eaten bagels were lying on paper napkins.
‘What even IS that?’ said Gillian Manse.
‘It’s a bagel.’
‘A what?’
‘A very, very famous bread product known all over the world,’ said Polly, angry suddenly. ‘The kind of thing any baker would know about.’
Huckle shot her a concerned look.
‘Well I don’t want it in this town,’ said Gillian. ‘Nothing wrong with a pasty.’
‘There is nothing wrong with a good pasty,’ said Polly. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with people in a free country baking what they like, so STOP PESTERING ME.’
Huckle patted her on the arm.
‘It’s all right, calm down.’
Polly turned to him. ‘She’s a big bully,’ she whispered.
Gillian’s face was stern. ‘I just don’t want anyone ruining my business!’
‘You’re ruining your own business, making such awful bread,’ retorted Polly.
Tarnie stood up.
‘Now, ladies…’ he began.
‘This isn’t about “ladies’’,’ said Polly, more exasperated than ever. ‘It’s about this witch telling me what I can and cannot do in my own damn home.’
‘Well let’s make sure it’s not your home for much longer then,’ said Gillian.
‘And what’s THAT supposed to mean?’ shouted Polly.
‘Ssh, ssh,’ said Tarnie, trying to calm the situation down.
‘Exactly what I said,’ said Gillian. ‘That place is mine. I can easily get you out of there.’
‘For making a sandwich?’
‘It’s my lease.’
The woman was bright purple in the face, absolutely flaming with shivering fury. She looked terrifying. Suddenly all the fight went out of Polly. She just wanted to sink down and forget about everything.
Gillian bent down, picked up the last piece of bagel and hurled it straight out to sea, where it was immediately divebombed by a flock of squalling gulls. Then she turned and stalked away.
Polly realised she was shaking.
‘She’s the wickedest, most horrible… She’s going to throw me out.’
‘She won’t,’ said Tarnie. ‘She needs the rent. She’s just an old woman, trying to get by.’
‘She’s a horrible witch trying to drive me out of here,’ said Polly. ‘I can’t believe you’re defending her!’
Tarnie looked uncomfortable. ‘I know, but —’
‘She’s probably the reason this place is dying, if she monsters everybody who comes to live here!’
The fishermen were starting to mutter their thanks for the food and back away.
‘Oh, so now I look like the crazy one,’ said Polly, cross. ‘Well, that’s just fantastic.’
Huckle smiled, but he too headed off, leaving Polly once more alone, sitting on the harbour wall. She felt ashamed; she knew she’d overreacted, that there was no point in venting her frustration on an old woman. It just felt as though every time she started to get ahead, step up a little, move on, it all came crashing back down again.
‘Er,’ he said. ‘Well, I kind of…’
Everyone was staring at him expectantly.
‘I kind of… I mean, the honey was very much a kind of lifestyle change, you know?’
Jayden clearly didn’t understand. Then he did.
‘You mean you don’t have to work?’ he said, eyes wide. ‘Are you rich?’
Huckle went slightly pink and looked away. ‘Aw, man, it’s not like that,’ he said, but he didn’t finish the sentence and looked shy.
‘Have you got a helicopter?’ said Jayden. Huckle laughed.
‘No,’ he said.
‘Damn,’ said Polly. ‘I should definitely have done it your way before my career change. Getting rich should have been on my to-do list.’
Now they all looked at her, and she blushed too and quickly changed the subject. ‘Anyway!’ she said, starting to scoop up crumbs. ‘Can anyone tell me how to get a bus to the puffin sanctuary?’
‘Why?’ said Tarnie, but he realised why when he saw her face. ‘Oh no. Not Neil?’
Neil was sitting next to Polly on the harbour wall, lazily pecking at a piece of bagel. He looked up when he heard his name.
‘Apparently I am being very cruel to him and not respecting his animal rights,’ said Polly sadly.
‘Well, he is getting fat,’ pointed out Tarnie.
‘My puffin is not fat!’ said Polly crossly. ‘Also, he’s still young. Don’t talk about him like that. You could really affect his self-image.’
‘Well, that would be good,’ said Tarnie. ‘Then he’ll know he’s fat and do something about it. No point ignoring the obvious.’
Polly stuck her tongue out at him. ‘He is a beautiful puffin.’
‘There isn’t a bus,’ said Jayden. ‘You need to get a special coach. We went there on a school trip. It’s all I remember about that entire year.’
‘Was it good?’ said Polly. ‘Is it a nice place to be?’
‘I threw up on the coach,’ said Jayden.
‘Ha!’ said Huckle. ‘Er, I mean, I’m sorry about your puffin.’
Polly stroked Neil’s wings thoughtfully.
‘It’s okay,’ she said, her voice cracking slightly. ‘I’m getting good at letting go of things recently.’
Everyone went quiet, then Huckle jumped up.
‘I can take you,’ he said.
Tarnie looked up, as if he’d been thinking the same thing.
‘Have you got a car?’ Polly asked.
‘Not exactly,’ said Huckle.
At that precise moment, a shadow passed over the little group. Neil hopped protectively closer to Polly, who looked up, still feeling a little shaky, to be confronted by the substantial figure of Gillian Manse.
‘Oh for goodness’ sake,’ Polly said quietly to herself.
‘What’s this?’ said Gillian, her harsh voice echoing off the harbour walls. ‘Doing picnics now, are we? I don’t think that’s in the lease.’
There were crumbs everywhere. The seagulls were lined up on the wall, waiting for their chance to pounce once everyone had gone. Half-eaten bagels were lying on paper napkins.
‘What even IS that?’ said Gillian Manse.
‘It’s a bagel.’
‘A what?’
‘A very, very famous bread product known all over the world,’ said Polly, angry suddenly. ‘The kind of thing any baker would know about.’
Huckle shot her a concerned look.
‘Well I don’t want it in this town,’ said Gillian. ‘Nothing wrong with a pasty.’
‘There is nothing wrong with a good pasty,’ said Polly. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with people in a free country baking what they like, so STOP PESTERING ME.’
Huckle patted her on the arm.
‘It’s all right, calm down.’
Polly turned to him. ‘She’s a big bully,’ she whispered.
Gillian’s face was stern. ‘I just don’t want anyone ruining my business!’
‘You’re ruining your own business, making such awful bread,’ retorted Polly.
Tarnie stood up.
‘Now, ladies…’ he began.
‘This isn’t about “ladies’’,’ said Polly, more exasperated than ever. ‘It’s about this witch telling me what I can and cannot do in my own damn home.’
‘Well let’s make sure it’s not your home for much longer then,’ said Gillian.
‘And what’s THAT supposed to mean?’ shouted Polly.
‘Ssh, ssh,’ said Tarnie, trying to calm the situation down.
‘Exactly what I said,’ said Gillian. ‘That place is mine. I can easily get you out of there.’
‘For making a sandwich?’
‘It’s my lease.’
The woman was bright purple in the face, absolutely flaming with shivering fury. She looked terrifying. Suddenly all the fight went out of Polly. She just wanted to sink down and forget about everything.
Gillian bent down, picked up the last piece of bagel and hurled it straight out to sea, where it was immediately divebombed by a flock of squalling gulls. Then she turned and stalked away.
Polly realised she was shaking.
‘She’s the wickedest, most horrible… She’s going to throw me out.’
‘She won’t,’ said Tarnie. ‘She needs the rent. She’s just an old woman, trying to get by.’
‘She’s a horrible witch trying to drive me out of here,’ said Polly. ‘I can’t believe you’re defending her!’
Tarnie looked uncomfortable. ‘I know, but —’
‘She’s probably the reason this place is dying, if she monsters everybody who comes to live here!’
The fishermen were starting to mutter their thanks for the food and back away.
‘Oh, so now I look like the crazy one,’ said Polly, cross. ‘Well, that’s just fantastic.’
Huckle smiled, but he too headed off, leaving Polly once more alone, sitting on the harbour wall. She felt ashamed; she knew she’d overreacted, that there was no point in venting her frustration on an old woman. It just felt as though every time she started to get ahead, step up a little, move on, it all came crashing back down again.
