Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 71
For those in peril on the sea.
Reuben, or rather the wildly expensive party planner he’d got in from London – he was sparing absolutely no expense – had sent coaches over to pick people up and take them to the wake.
It was a beautiful day as they boarded the vehicles, the men already loosening their ties and taking off their jackets. Not a cloud in the sky, just bright blue as far as the eye could see, the sun hot and delicious on the increasingly brown shoulders of the holidaymakers, beachcombers and scavengers. Most of the goods from the wrecked tanker had either sunk or been removed from the ship, and fortunately the oil had been successfully contained, thanks to the quick thinking of one of the young engineers on board, who’d managed to close the bulkhead doors as the ship was going down. Polly had been amazed to learn that this behemoth had been crewed by fewer than a dozen men. Archie had explained to her that their great fear in the lifeboat had been that a huge cargo ship would simply not notice them; that a boy would be asleep at the radar, or simply assume they were a large fish, nothing worth bothering about.
The coach they were on was quiet, nobody quite sure what to expect. Polly sat next to Kerensa and in front of Patrick and his wife.
‘You’re not bringing the bird?’ Kerensa had asked back at the flat after the service.
‘Um,’ Polly had replied. Secretly she wanted Neil there for comfort. Also, Tarnie had liked him a lot. They had compromised on not for the service, but yes for the wake. Kerensa had changed into a sun dress but Polly decided not to; it felt disrespectful.
‘No,’ said Kerensa. ‘It’s disrespectful not to go and have an amazing time. He would have liked that.’
‘I think he’d have liked to still have been here,’ said Polly.
‘Yes, having a good time at a fantastic party thrown by an idiot,’ said Kerensa, looking in the mirror while putting on more lipstick.
Polly hugged her.
‘Thank you for all your support,’ she said.
‘What support?’ said Kerensa. ‘I thought you were a total moron coming out here. I thought you’d be back in ten days, crying, with your grey sofa. In fact…’
‘What?’ said Polly.
Kerensa fiddled with her phone, then showed it to Polly.
‘What is that?’ she said, looking at the picture of a nice house.
‘It’s a house,’ said Kerensa. ‘In the…’ She cleared her throat before she could bear to say the word. ‘In the suburbs.’
‘What about it?’
‘I was thinking about buying it, you idiot. For when you came back. So you’d stop being so bloody stubborn and come and live with me. I’ve missed you, you doof.’
Polly flung her arms around her again.
‘I love you,’ she said.
‘I know,’ said Kerensa, hugging her back. ‘But even with everything that’s happened, I still think you’re happier here.’
Polly started to well up again. ‘Oh God…’
‘It’s true, though, isn’t it?’ said Kerensa. ‘It’s like you’re really living, for the first time in years.’
They clutched each other in front of the mirror, and for a second they were teenagers again, sneaking out of Polly’s tiny bedroom clutching bottles of alcoholic ginger beer.
‘Let’s go get ’em,’ said Kerensa. ‘Don’t let me get super-pissed, I don’t want that weird American midget pawing at me.’
‘And don’t let me get super-pissed and accidentally say something awful to Selina,’ said Polly.
Kerensa gave her a look. ‘What about pawing tall, hunky blond Americans?’
Polly rolled her eyes. ‘I cannot imagine him getting super-pissed enough to even think about me.’
Kerensa smiled. ‘Anyway, are you bringing that bird or not?’
Neil eeped at them.
‘Of course I am. He’s already wearing his bow tie,’ said Polly.
Now it was Kerensa’s turn to roll her eyes.
The coaches – there were three of them – wound round the warm golden hills and headed towards evening. Singing could be clearly heard emerging from at least one of them, which indicated that several of the men had come out of the service and headed straight to the pub. Patrick was fascinated by Neil’s story, even if he was in agreement with Kerensa that he probably oughtn’t to be wearing a bow tie.
‘It’s smart,’ said Polly. ‘He can wear it to greet his host, then I’ll take it off so he can play.’
Patrick smiled. ‘Excellent. I think everyone is going to need cheering up.’
The secret turn-off to Reuben’s beach was less secret tonight; it was lit up with lanterns, beaming in the narrow little road. Two large men wearing headpieces stood at the entrance with high-beam torches and unfriendly expressions. They glanced over the coach and had a word with the driver, then waved them in.
The long lane down to the beach was entirely lit up with braziers either side, giving the early evening a cheery, exciting glow. Already Polly could hear the sound of distant drumming. She looked nervously at Kerensa, who was already wearing her ‘desperately unimpressed’ look.
‘Come on,’ Polly said. ‘This is going to be something special. I think you’re right; for Tarnie’s sake we just have to go with it. You don’t have to talk to him.’
‘That’s true,’ said Kerensa. ‘Cor. I reckon he’s spent a FORTUNE on this.’
Someone with luminous paddles directed the coaches in and parked them up, and everyone descended nervously in ones and twos.
‘This way, this way!’ shouted a bossy woman in a high-vis jacket, indicating the pathway brightly lit by candles across the dunes. They followed it, some of the women stumbling already in their heels. Polly took her sandals off. The sand was still warm beneath her toes from the heat of the day. It felt delicious.
Over the last dune, where the beach became visible, everybody stopped and stared.
‘Oh my,’ said Kerensa.
The entire beach was strung, somehow, with bright white lanterns. The little café had had a huge covered bar attached to the side of it. There were lines of black-and-white-clad waiting staff standing with large trays of drinks, and already the beach was full of the most glamorous, beautiful-looking people – obviously friends of Reuben – in chic outfits, chatting animatedly and starting to dance. There was a huge DJ stage set up, but at this point a band was playing some sensuous reggae. The most amazing barbecue smells hung heavy in the air; the atmosphere was stupendous.
Reuben, or rather the wildly expensive party planner he’d got in from London – he was sparing absolutely no expense – had sent coaches over to pick people up and take them to the wake.
It was a beautiful day as they boarded the vehicles, the men already loosening their ties and taking off their jackets. Not a cloud in the sky, just bright blue as far as the eye could see, the sun hot and delicious on the increasingly brown shoulders of the holidaymakers, beachcombers and scavengers. Most of the goods from the wrecked tanker had either sunk or been removed from the ship, and fortunately the oil had been successfully contained, thanks to the quick thinking of one of the young engineers on board, who’d managed to close the bulkhead doors as the ship was going down. Polly had been amazed to learn that this behemoth had been crewed by fewer than a dozen men. Archie had explained to her that their great fear in the lifeboat had been that a huge cargo ship would simply not notice them; that a boy would be asleep at the radar, or simply assume they were a large fish, nothing worth bothering about.
The coach they were on was quiet, nobody quite sure what to expect. Polly sat next to Kerensa and in front of Patrick and his wife.
‘You’re not bringing the bird?’ Kerensa had asked back at the flat after the service.
‘Um,’ Polly had replied. Secretly she wanted Neil there for comfort. Also, Tarnie had liked him a lot. They had compromised on not for the service, but yes for the wake. Kerensa had changed into a sun dress but Polly decided not to; it felt disrespectful.
‘No,’ said Kerensa. ‘It’s disrespectful not to go and have an amazing time. He would have liked that.’
‘I think he’d have liked to still have been here,’ said Polly.
‘Yes, having a good time at a fantastic party thrown by an idiot,’ said Kerensa, looking in the mirror while putting on more lipstick.
Polly hugged her.
‘Thank you for all your support,’ she said.
‘What support?’ said Kerensa. ‘I thought you were a total moron coming out here. I thought you’d be back in ten days, crying, with your grey sofa. In fact…’
‘What?’ said Polly.
Kerensa fiddled with her phone, then showed it to Polly.
‘What is that?’ she said, looking at the picture of a nice house.
‘It’s a house,’ said Kerensa. ‘In the…’ She cleared her throat before she could bear to say the word. ‘In the suburbs.’
‘What about it?’
‘I was thinking about buying it, you idiot. For when you came back. So you’d stop being so bloody stubborn and come and live with me. I’ve missed you, you doof.’
Polly flung her arms around her again.
‘I love you,’ she said.
‘I know,’ said Kerensa, hugging her back. ‘But even with everything that’s happened, I still think you’re happier here.’
Polly started to well up again. ‘Oh God…’
‘It’s true, though, isn’t it?’ said Kerensa. ‘It’s like you’re really living, for the first time in years.’
They clutched each other in front of the mirror, and for a second they were teenagers again, sneaking out of Polly’s tiny bedroom clutching bottles of alcoholic ginger beer.
‘Let’s go get ’em,’ said Kerensa. ‘Don’t let me get super-pissed, I don’t want that weird American midget pawing at me.’
‘And don’t let me get super-pissed and accidentally say something awful to Selina,’ said Polly.
Kerensa gave her a look. ‘What about pawing tall, hunky blond Americans?’
Polly rolled her eyes. ‘I cannot imagine him getting super-pissed enough to even think about me.’
Kerensa smiled. ‘Anyway, are you bringing that bird or not?’
Neil eeped at them.
‘Of course I am. He’s already wearing his bow tie,’ said Polly.
Now it was Kerensa’s turn to roll her eyes.
The coaches – there were three of them – wound round the warm golden hills and headed towards evening. Singing could be clearly heard emerging from at least one of them, which indicated that several of the men had come out of the service and headed straight to the pub. Patrick was fascinated by Neil’s story, even if he was in agreement with Kerensa that he probably oughtn’t to be wearing a bow tie.
‘It’s smart,’ said Polly. ‘He can wear it to greet his host, then I’ll take it off so he can play.’
Patrick smiled. ‘Excellent. I think everyone is going to need cheering up.’
The secret turn-off to Reuben’s beach was less secret tonight; it was lit up with lanterns, beaming in the narrow little road. Two large men wearing headpieces stood at the entrance with high-beam torches and unfriendly expressions. They glanced over the coach and had a word with the driver, then waved them in.
The long lane down to the beach was entirely lit up with braziers either side, giving the early evening a cheery, exciting glow. Already Polly could hear the sound of distant drumming. She looked nervously at Kerensa, who was already wearing her ‘desperately unimpressed’ look.
‘Come on,’ Polly said. ‘This is going to be something special. I think you’re right; for Tarnie’s sake we just have to go with it. You don’t have to talk to him.’
‘That’s true,’ said Kerensa. ‘Cor. I reckon he’s spent a FORTUNE on this.’
Someone with luminous paddles directed the coaches in and parked them up, and everyone descended nervously in ones and twos.
‘This way, this way!’ shouted a bossy woman in a high-vis jacket, indicating the pathway brightly lit by candles across the dunes. They followed it, some of the women stumbling already in their heels. Polly took her sandals off. The sand was still warm beneath her toes from the heat of the day. It felt delicious.
Over the last dune, where the beach became visible, everybody stopped and stared.
‘Oh my,’ said Kerensa.
The entire beach was strung, somehow, with bright white lanterns. The little café had had a huge covered bar attached to the side of it. There were lines of black-and-white-clad waiting staff standing with large trays of drinks, and already the beach was full of the most glamorous, beautiful-looking people – obviously friends of Reuben – in chic outfits, chatting animatedly and starting to dance. There was a huge DJ stage set up, but at this point a band was playing some sensuous reggae. The most amazing barbecue smells hung heavy in the air; the atmosphere was stupendous.
