Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 43

‘Have you heard from Chris?’ Polly asked on her third glass, when she’d finally plucked up the courage.
Kerensa shrugged. ‘Now and then. He’s over the worst.’
‘Is he still living at his mum’s?’ asked Polly.
‘Yup.’
‘You know, he hasn’t contacted me. Not even once, to say how are you doing or something.’
‘I know,’ said Kerensa. ‘I called him on it.’
‘You did? When did you see him?’
‘At Shanoosha and Michael’s fortieth – which you didn’t come to, by the way.’
Polly shrugged. She didn’t like to admit that the presents would have been expensive; that it would have been horrible to stand there amongst all their successful professional middle-class friends with their mortgages and Volkswagens and pregnancy bumps and talk about being a minimum-wage assistant in a bakery. She couldn’t have borne their sympathy and pity.
‘No,’ she said. ‘But Chris was there?’
Kerensa winced. ‘I think he got a bit overexcited at the free cocktail bar.’
‘They had a cocktail bar?’
‘Pure swank,’ said Kerensa. ‘Anyway. He was a little…’
‘How’s he looking?’
‘Tired,’ said Kerensa.
‘Oh God,’ said Polly. ‘What did he say?’
‘He asked how you were doing. And when I told him you’d moved and had a new flat and a job and everything, he was…’
Polly’s heart sank. She knew the answer.
‘Was he jealous?’
Kerensa nodded. ‘He thinks it’s all right for you, apparently. Thinks it’s easy for you to get on with your life because you didn’t really care about the business in the end, he was the creative talent, blah blah.’
Polly’s eyes stung with tears at the unfairness of it all.
‘He ruined my life, Kerensa. It’s WRECKED. Look at it! Just because I’m not sulking at my mum’s house…’
‘I know that,’ said Kerensa. ‘I told him. I told him he was wallowing.’
‘What did he do?’
‘Got pissed and tried to pull the cocktail waitress.’
Polly grimaced in sympathy. ‘Oh God, poor Chris.’
‘Poor Chris nothing,’ said Kerensa fiercely. ‘He has to man up and get through this. He’s treated you appallingly.’
‘He did his best,’ said Polly.
‘He did nothing of the sort. He got all huffy every time there was a tiny little setback. You can’t run a business like that.’
‘No,’ said Polly, thoughtfully. ‘But really, how dare he? Assuming I’m having a fantastic time and doing brilliantly. For crying out loud. It’s awful. My life is dreadful. It’s a total failure and a disaster and I hate it here and basically ALL OF IT.’
There was a sudden unexpected hush in the crowd. Polly realised that someone was standing behind her. She turned round. It was Tarnie. He looked very embarrassed.
‘Er, sorry,’ he said. ‘I was coming over to say hi, but you sound busy…’
‘Oh God,’ said Polly, crestfallen. ‘Oh GOD, I didn’t mean you. You’re the only good thing to happen to me here. Hey, Kerensa, this is Tarnie.’
‘Hell-oo,’ said Kerensa, drawing out the last syllable. Polly gave her a look. Then she glanced back at Tarnie. She supposed he did look quite smart in his civvies: he had on a plain shirt, very soft worn jeans and Converses.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ came a soft American voice, and Huckle and Reuben hove into view from the other side of the bar, both of them holding pint glasses.
‘I hate this bar. Why are we in this bar? This is a terrible bar. This is bad beer. They should serve good beer. I’m going to buy this bar,’ Reuben was saying. He didn’t say hello.
‘Polly was just talking about how much she hates her life,’ said Tarnie gravely.
‘I didn’t… Shut up,’ said Polly, flushing bright red.
Kerensa turned round. She looked like a child in a sweetshop.
‘Hello to you too,’ she said.
‘Do you hate your life?’ asked Tarnie.
‘Not any more,’ said Kerensa.
In the end, they all sat down together: six or seven fishermen, the American boys, plus a few of the surfers who’d joined them. Jaz was not amongst them today, but there was Felicia, a ludicrously beautiful Eurasian girl with black hair that stretched all the way down her back. She was trying to get Reuben’s attention and failing, and ended up having to squeeze on to the bench next to Jayden. Jayden’s facial expression was comical. He was frozen to the spot as if he didn’t dare move, gazing at the goddess next to him.
‘Can you stop staring at me?’ she said softly.
‘Um, are you going to have me arrested?’ asked Jayden, his mouth completely dry.
‘No,’ said Felicia, tossing her hair.
‘In that case, maybe not. I’ll try. But probably not. Oh God,’ said Jayden.
Felicia turned away from him. Polly wondered if this happened to her all the time. It probably did.
‘Tell her your funny joke you told me,’ she whispered to Jayden.
‘I can’t,’ he said, eyes wide. ‘I can’t see straight.’
‘Women like men who make them laugh.’
Jayden coughed. ‘Um, Felicia?’
Felicia graced him with a flicker of her feline eyes. ‘Yuh?’
‘What do you call a crocodile wearing a vest?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘An investigator.’
‘A what?’
The colour drained from Jayden’s face.
‘Oh SHIT, I got that wrong. I mean, what do you call an ALLIGATOR… Oh, never mind.’
Felicia turned her back again and Jayden sat on his hands and stared fiercely at the table, his ears pink. Polly smiled and turned back to Kerensa. She preferred Jaz so far, but they were all pretty impressive.
‘This place is more glamorous than I thought,’ said Kerensa. ‘Who’s the annoying one?’
‘Do you mean me?’ said Reuben, who clearly had bionic hearing. ‘Are you talking about me? I’m not annoying. Huckle, tell them I’m not annoying, I’m cool.’
‘Of course you’re not annoying,’ said Felicia languorously. ‘Darling, that’s just rubbish.’