Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 44
Kerensa rolled her eyes. ‘Oh God, is he really, really rich?’ she said loudly.
‘Yes,’ said Reuben.
‘Thought so,’ said Kerensa, shooting Felicia a triumphant look. Felicia turned away, which landed her back facing Jayden, who went bright red again and started scratching his neck. Polly got up to go over to Reuben.
‘Thank you for my beautiful oven,’ she said. ‘Did you like the breadsticks?’
‘If I had made them they would have been better,’ he said. ‘But they weren’t bad. They needed more pepper.’
‘I’ll try and remember that,’ said Polly, smiling at him. ‘It was a really kind thing to do.’
‘It was nothing,’ said Reuben. ‘I’ve forgotten all about it. It was like two cents to me.’
‘Well, thank you for the two cents,’ she said.
‘Who’s your friend?’ Reuben asked casually. ‘She’s very rude. I like that in a woman.’
‘That’s Kerensa. Do you want to meet her properly?’
‘No.’
‘Kerensa!’ said Polly, beckoning her over. ‘This is Reuben, who gave me the lovely oven.’
‘I’ve got a helicopter,’ said Reuben.
‘I hate helicopters,’ said Kerensa. ‘They’re rubbish.’
Tarnie brought over another bottle of wine for the table, and cider for Jayden and a couple of the other fishermen. He pulled up a chair next to Polly.
‘So how are things?’ he said awkwardly. He normally found Polly easy to talk to, but this was a big group of people; it was a bit tricky.
‘Honestly,’ said Polly, ‘I am so grateful to you for finding me a job.’
‘But…’
‘But,’ nodded Polly. ‘Oh man, Tarnie, she’s killing me. She won’t let me bake any proper bread, only cream horns and stupid doughnuts and pasties and pale white stuff. Which she’s now talking about ordering in anyway because I’m too slow, apparently. She doesn’t want to change or get better or anything.’
Tarnie nodded.
‘Doughnuts were Jim’s favourites,’ he said finally.
‘Oh Lord,’ said Polly. ‘I do know; I know that she’s grieving and everything. I am doing my best to be helpful and useful and all of that, but it… it feels like I’m being continually punished for something.’
She took another sip of her drink and smiled ruefully. ‘This will sound nuts, but I kind of had this fantasy of myself… making things better. Like, she would have someone to share the workload and could unburden herself, and maybe I could find the inner kind person inside sort of thing. Stupid.’
‘I think that’s a nice fantasy to have,’ said Tarnie kindly. ‘But I’m not sure… I’m not sure she hasn’t been so bitter for so long that everything’s kind of… just sealed over.’
‘I do feel sorry for her,’ said Polly stubbornly. ‘But she is really, really mean to me, every single day.’
Huckle came over and pulled up a chair. He didn’t see the look Tarnie gave him, but Polly noticed it.
‘Hey,’ he said, in his expansive laid-back drawl. ‘How you all doing?’
‘I’m just having a moan about my job,’ said Polly. ‘The job I’ve only had for two weeks. I’m not a very impressive specimen.’
Huckle frowned. ‘Did you put Reuben’s oven in?’
‘It wouldn’t fit in that bakery,’ said Polly, ‘so I had to put it in the other one, the one under my flat. But Mrs Manse won’t have a thing to do with it, thinks it’s foreign. She just wants pasties and big white buns.’
Huckle frowned again. ‘The summer season is coming, right?’
‘Er huh.’
‘And she owns the property you’re in, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, I don’t see how it would be much more expensive if you divided up the labour. You work on the harbour and make bread with Reuben’s oven, and she stays in the shop on her own and just does cakes and pasties. You don’t need to fall out about what she wants to do, and she doesn’t have to try and sell bread that she doesn’t want to, so she saves all that time and effort, and you’re not in competition with each other because you’re basically the same company.’
All three were silent for a moment.
‘You know, that could almost work,’ said Polly. ‘The only problem is, if I mention it to her she’ll just say no immediately. She always says no then thinks up reasons later.’
She tried so hard not to look at Tarnie it made the corner of his mouth twitch.
‘You want me to propose changing everything AGAIN?’ he said, taking a slurp of his pint.
‘Don’t you see?’ said Polly. ‘I know she doesn’t want me in the shop.’
‘Mmm,’ said Tarnie.
‘But she knows the workload is too much for her.’
‘Mmmm.’
‘And she’s got the space to do it.’
‘What about all the people who go into the wrong bakery for what they want?’
‘We’re two streets away,’ said Polly. ‘I think they’ll manage. But she wouldn’t have to handle as much stock if I did the bread.’
Tarnie hated to admit it, but it wasn’t a bad idea.
‘And,’ said Huckle, ‘if you’re as good as we think you are, people will come to you just for your bread anyway. And also my honey.’
‘You want me to sell your honey?’
‘In return for the brilliant idea I just gave you?’ said Huckle. ‘No, you’re right, it would be completely unreasonable of me to ask you to sell my honey.’
‘No, of COURSE we’d sell your honey,’ said Polly, excited. ‘That’s a great idea.’
Tarnie looked at his hands. He was, he realised, jealous of them planning something without him.
‘OOH,’ said Polly. ‘I am quite excited about this. Except of course she’ll say no and then I’ll have to go back to working for her and it will be even worse because I’ll have dreamed of the taste of freedom.’
The drinks kept going down, and there didn’t seem to be any closing time. By midnight, Polly was a little tipsy, her head full of plans and schemes for the downstairs space. Kerensa had ended up arguing with Reuben all night, about politics, feminism, gun control, freedom of the internet and literally anything else two people could possibly have a difference of opinion about. Eventually Jayden stood up. He was quite stewed.
‘Yes,’ said Reuben.
‘Thought so,’ said Kerensa, shooting Felicia a triumphant look. Felicia turned away, which landed her back facing Jayden, who went bright red again and started scratching his neck. Polly got up to go over to Reuben.
‘Thank you for my beautiful oven,’ she said. ‘Did you like the breadsticks?’
‘If I had made them they would have been better,’ he said. ‘But they weren’t bad. They needed more pepper.’
‘I’ll try and remember that,’ said Polly, smiling at him. ‘It was a really kind thing to do.’
‘It was nothing,’ said Reuben. ‘I’ve forgotten all about it. It was like two cents to me.’
‘Well, thank you for the two cents,’ she said.
‘Who’s your friend?’ Reuben asked casually. ‘She’s very rude. I like that in a woman.’
‘That’s Kerensa. Do you want to meet her properly?’
‘No.’
‘Kerensa!’ said Polly, beckoning her over. ‘This is Reuben, who gave me the lovely oven.’
‘I’ve got a helicopter,’ said Reuben.
‘I hate helicopters,’ said Kerensa. ‘They’re rubbish.’
Tarnie brought over another bottle of wine for the table, and cider for Jayden and a couple of the other fishermen. He pulled up a chair next to Polly.
‘So how are things?’ he said awkwardly. He normally found Polly easy to talk to, but this was a big group of people; it was a bit tricky.
‘Honestly,’ said Polly, ‘I am so grateful to you for finding me a job.’
‘But…’
‘But,’ nodded Polly. ‘Oh man, Tarnie, she’s killing me. She won’t let me bake any proper bread, only cream horns and stupid doughnuts and pasties and pale white stuff. Which she’s now talking about ordering in anyway because I’m too slow, apparently. She doesn’t want to change or get better or anything.’
Tarnie nodded.
‘Doughnuts were Jim’s favourites,’ he said finally.
‘Oh Lord,’ said Polly. ‘I do know; I know that she’s grieving and everything. I am doing my best to be helpful and useful and all of that, but it… it feels like I’m being continually punished for something.’
She took another sip of her drink and smiled ruefully. ‘This will sound nuts, but I kind of had this fantasy of myself… making things better. Like, she would have someone to share the workload and could unburden herself, and maybe I could find the inner kind person inside sort of thing. Stupid.’
‘I think that’s a nice fantasy to have,’ said Tarnie kindly. ‘But I’m not sure… I’m not sure she hasn’t been so bitter for so long that everything’s kind of… just sealed over.’
‘I do feel sorry for her,’ said Polly stubbornly. ‘But she is really, really mean to me, every single day.’
Huckle came over and pulled up a chair. He didn’t see the look Tarnie gave him, but Polly noticed it.
‘Hey,’ he said, in his expansive laid-back drawl. ‘How you all doing?’
‘I’m just having a moan about my job,’ said Polly. ‘The job I’ve only had for two weeks. I’m not a very impressive specimen.’
Huckle frowned. ‘Did you put Reuben’s oven in?’
‘It wouldn’t fit in that bakery,’ said Polly, ‘so I had to put it in the other one, the one under my flat. But Mrs Manse won’t have a thing to do with it, thinks it’s foreign. She just wants pasties and big white buns.’
Huckle frowned again. ‘The summer season is coming, right?’
‘Er huh.’
‘And she owns the property you’re in, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, I don’t see how it would be much more expensive if you divided up the labour. You work on the harbour and make bread with Reuben’s oven, and she stays in the shop on her own and just does cakes and pasties. You don’t need to fall out about what she wants to do, and she doesn’t have to try and sell bread that she doesn’t want to, so she saves all that time and effort, and you’re not in competition with each other because you’re basically the same company.’
All three were silent for a moment.
‘You know, that could almost work,’ said Polly. ‘The only problem is, if I mention it to her she’ll just say no immediately. She always says no then thinks up reasons later.’
She tried so hard not to look at Tarnie it made the corner of his mouth twitch.
‘You want me to propose changing everything AGAIN?’ he said, taking a slurp of his pint.
‘Don’t you see?’ said Polly. ‘I know she doesn’t want me in the shop.’
‘Mmm,’ said Tarnie.
‘But she knows the workload is too much for her.’
‘Mmmm.’
‘And she’s got the space to do it.’
‘What about all the people who go into the wrong bakery for what they want?’
‘We’re two streets away,’ said Polly. ‘I think they’ll manage. But she wouldn’t have to handle as much stock if I did the bread.’
Tarnie hated to admit it, but it wasn’t a bad idea.
‘And,’ said Huckle, ‘if you’re as good as we think you are, people will come to you just for your bread anyway. And also my honey.’
‘You want me to sell your honey?’
‘In return for the brilliant idea I just gave you?’ said Huckle. ‘No, you’re right, it would be completely unreasonable of me to ask you to sell my honey.’
‘No, of COURSE we’d sell your honey,’ said Polly, excited. ‘That’s a great idea.’
Tarnie looked at his hands. He was, he realised, jealous of them planning something without him.
‘OOH,’ said Polly. ‘I am quite excited about this. Except of course she’ll say no and then I’ll have to go back to working for her and it will be even worse because I’ll have dreamed of the taste of freedom.’
The drinks kept going down, and there didn’t seem to be any closing time. By midnight, Polly was a little tipsy, her head full of plans and schemes for the downstairs space. Kerensa had ended up arguing with Reuben all night, about politics, feminism, gun control, freedom of the internet and literally anything else two people could possibly have a difference of opinion about. Eventually Jayden stood up. He was quite stewed.
