Christmas at Little Beach Street Bakery
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‘You aren’t coming to Kerensa and Reuben’s?’ she said.
Huckle shook his head. ‘Do you think that would be a good idea right now?’
‘No,’ said Polly.
‘Well then,’ said Huck. And he climbed the circular staircase to pack, and Polly watched him go.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Polly set off to Reuben’s house in Nan the Van, doing her best to put everything out of her mind. Huckle would calm down, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t he? It was a difference of opinion. Or rather, it wasn’t a difference of opinion. They both knew Kerensa had made a terrible mistake. Where they differed was on what to do about it.
Polly wished he’d stated – utterly and categorically – that he wasn’t going to tell Reuben. She should have got him to promise; to write it down and sign it or something.
Oh God. He was coming back, wasn’t he? Of course he was. Of course. They’d fallen out, that was all. And he’d cool off and they’d sort it out and… well. Well. Things would happen. It would be okay.
But she didn’t have time to dwell on it, as she picked Jayden up at the Little Beach Street Bakery. He was uncharacteristically quiet.
‘What’s up with you?’ she said.
‘So anyway,’ said Jayden, looking awkward and staring at his knees. Polly shot him a sidelong glance.
‘What?’ she said, realising she’d been so caught up in her own problems, she’d hardly spoken to Jayden at all. He went even pinker.
‘So I was thinking about what you said.’
Polly cast her mind back.
‘About asking Flora to marry you?’
‘Yeah. And you said I probably shouldn’t do it because she’s a student and everything and I’m only twenty-three.’
‘Yes,’ said Polly, remembering her brief conversation with Flora at the Christmas fair as she expertly manoeuvred Nan the Van across the causeway.
‘Yeah, well, I thought about it and I’ve decided I’m going to totally ignore your advice.’
Polly looked at him.
‘Oh good!’ she said sarcastically. ‘Well, everybody else does.’
‘So. I’m going to ask her.’
Polly bit her lip. Flora was so nonchalant, it was hard to tell how this was going to go. And she was only twenty-one. Twenty-one! At that age Polly could barely find her keys, never mind get married.
Mind you, things didn’t seem to have changed that much twelve years later.
‘Well,’ said Polly, resigning herself to picking up the pieces later, ‘that’s great news. No, it is. I’m really pleased.’
Jayden smiled.
‘Well she hasn’t said yes yet.’
‘I’m sure she will,’ said Polly, not in the least bit sure. ‘And it will be lovely. How are you planning to ask her?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, are you going to do a romantic gesture? Wrap it up or hide it or something?’
‘Wrap what up?’
‘The ring, Jayden!’ She looked at him. Honestly, she really wasn’t sure he was ready for marriage.
‘Oh yeah,’ said Jayden. ‘My mum says she’s got one somewhere I can have.’
Jayden’s mother only had one son, amongst many girls in the family, and had possibly, in Polly’s view, occasionally been a little overindulgent. She hoped Flora knew that Jayden’s mum still squeezed toothpaste on to his brush for him in the morning and left it loaded in the bathroom.
‘Are you sure Flora will like that? She wouldn’t want a ring of her own?’
‘A ring’s a ring, right?’ said Jayden, looking confused.
Polly took a very deep breath.
‘I mean, you’ve only got some seaweedy stuff,’ he added, looking even more confused.
‘Yes,’ said Polly. ‘But it’s very special to…’ She was suddenly aware that she was about to cry, and swallowed it down hard.
‘What’s up, boss?’ said Jayden.
Polly breathed out.
‘Nothing,’ she said, hitting the A road over to Reuben’s house. It was the most glorious morning; good walking weather, and there were plenty of hikers out along the beautiful trails. Polly was suddenly very conscious of her horrible lack of sleep. ‘Whatever you think will be best…’
‘Do you think I should do something special?’ said Jayden. ‘I was just going to ask her. But there’s still time to go to the jeweller’s.’
‘Is there really a rush?’
Jayden thought about it.
‘Well it is Christmas,’ he said.
He looked up as they turned in to the incredibly impressive drive towards Reuben’s house.
‘Wow,’ he said. ‘Wow. Is this all his?’
‘It is.’
‘It’s amazing,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen a house like it. It’s incredible. Wow. This would…’ He trailed off. ‘It’s weird that some people are rich like this and some aren’t,’ he added. ‘You’d think they’d spread it around more.’
‘Then they wouldn’t be rich, I suppose,’ said Polly. ‘But yes, I don’t understand it either.’
‘He must be so happy,’ said Jayden, as they crunched over the gravel towards the house. ‘He must be, like, the happiest guy in the world.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The happiest man in the world was marching up and down by the front door, shouting at someone on his mobile phone.
Polly didn’t even bother pausing at the main entrance. She was happier round the back anyway. Marta was there and could help her out.
There were a lot of people turning up for Reuben’s party: colleagues of Reuben’s, as well as many of his friends and acquaintances (like many incredibly rich people, Reuben had the knack of attracting large crowds of people he didn’t know particularly well). As she parked the van, Polly heard a massive roar start up next to her and popped her head out of the door. A huge machine was there, making fake snow.
‘Seriously,’ she said, ‘that has to be the least environmentally friendly thing I have ever seen.’
‘No,’ said Reuben, wandering round the side of the house, still shouting on his phone but pausing to put his hand on Polly’s shoulder. He had, she never forgot, so few real friends. And what kind of a real friend was she being to him right now anyway? ‘No, that’ll be the full outdoor fires I’ve got coming later to heat you up from all the fake snow.’