Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 22

‘Did you want something?’ said Polly gently. Jayden, so incredibly charming and sweet with the older women of the town, was generally terribly unsuccessful with the opposite sex if they were younger than fifty. Turning red was something of a giveaway, although Jayden also turned red if he was warm, cold, excited, cross, tired or perturbed, so you couldn’t exactly rely on it.
‘I just… I couldn’t help hearing…’
Jayden’s table was three noisy tables and a fiddle band away.
‘I couldn’t help overhearing that Miss Flora… might need a place to stay.’
‘That’s some pretty good bionic ears you’ve got going on there,’ said Kerensa.
‘Because, you know…’
‘Jayden, you live at your mum’s,’ said Polly.
‘Uh, thanks,’ said Jayden crossly. ‘We’ve got a spare room, you know. I’m only trying to be polite. I don’t know why everyone’s making such a big deal about it or getting so worked up about it, honestly. I didn’t even hear what was going on and even if I did I don’t even care, so there. And I don’t live at my mum’s. I lodge with an older woman. I pay rent. So actually I’m a young single man renting. It’s just coincidence that it’s my mum’s.’
He stalked off.
‘Uh, yes please?’ said Flora, quietly.
Jayden froze. Then he turned round incredibly slowly.
‘SERIOUSLY?’ he said.
‘Uh, yeah?’ said Flora.
Jayden looked like he was going to faint. He flushed a brighter pink than ever, and his face was a mixture of delight and terror.
‘I’ll just tell my mum… I mean, my landlady. She can make up the spare bed.’
He looked shyly at Flora and then back at the floor.
‘You can come and sit with us if you like.’
‘No thanks,’ said Flora, staring at the floor too.
‘Oh,’ said Jayden. There was a moment’s silence. ‘Okay. Phoning my mum.’
As he sidled away from them, Polly burst out laughing.
‘Flora, I think you’ve pulled.’
Flora looked unhappy.
‘I’ve always pulled,’ she said.
‘Well, I really feel sorry for your terrible, terrible problems,’ said Polly, smiling.
‘Did I go to the bar for ten seconds and miss out?’ said Dubose, smiling his nice white smile. His eyes were drawn to the entrance to the courtyard. ‘Oh well,’ he said, perking up.
A slender figure was standing nervously underneath the eaves, scanning the busy tables. Polly glanced over, then waved heartily.
‘Aha,’ said Kerensa, taking another large gulp of her wine. ‘It’s the Merry Widow.’
‘Be. Nice,’ hissed Polly, composing her face.
‘Hey, I’m not the one who —’
‘Shut up.’
Selina came over looking apprehensive.
‘I wasn’t going to come out,’ she said. ‘But I was sitting in there all alone… It’s quite spooky, isn’t it?’
Polly nodded. ‘A little bit, but only at first. It’s quite useful knowing that nobody can get across from the mainland. Keeps all the baddies out.’
‘Or in,’ said Selina, glancing about. ‘I think I was half asleep. Then I heard the music, and thought I would come down.’
‘Well you’re here now,’ said Polly. Even compared to Kerensa, who was very slim, Selina was punishingly skinny, in a tight black top that emphasised her knobbly collarbones, and jeans that were falling off her.
‘Hi,’ said Selina directly to Kerensa.
‘Hello,’ said Kerensa, slightly stand-offishly, Polly thought. She really wanted them to get on; it would be much more fun. Plus it would be nice to have a new friend in the village. Kerensa was always heading off to the Monaco Grand Prix or Coachella; Muriel, between working in the grocer’s and looking after her new baby, couldn’t keep her eyes open for more than half an hour, and conversation with Flora had its limitations.
‘Can I have some of that wine?’ asked Selina. ‘Possibly quite a lot?’
Kerensa softened a bit.
‘Are you going to screw up your face like Flora does?’ she said.
‘No,’ said Selina. ‘I’m going to neck it, then buy us some more.’
Kerensa smiled. ‘Welcome.’
Dubose leaned in and joined in the conversation.
‘How on earth did you end up married to a fisherman?’ he asked in genuine puzzlement.
‘Sorry,’ said Polly gently, sitting beside Selina. ‘We don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to.’
Selina shook her head.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Everyone pussyfoots around me all the time. I really, really want to talk about him.’
Polly nodded.
‘Well,’ said Selina. ‘I was on holiday down here, staying in one of those really posh houses.’
Flora suddenly brightened.
‘Are you one of the posh girls?’ she asked.
‘Not any more,’ smiled Selina. ‘Why?’
‘Oh yes, you should do that,’ said Polly to Flora. ‘Looking like that, you could marry Prince Harry or something.’
Selina laughed so hard at this, Polly was worried she was going to choke. She also, Polly thought, had the look of a person who hadn’t laughed enough for a very long time, and wasn’t always entirely sure when it was appropriate.
‘Um, okay, do NOT marry a posh boy,’ said Selina. ‘Unless you like, you know, being their mummy, dealing with drug abuse, never ever knowing how they feel and having to stick things up their bottoms.’
Flora looked horrified.
‘Seriously? All of them?’ asked Polly, fascinated. She didn’t know any posh people.
‘All of them,’ said Selina. ‘Every single one.’
Flora bit her lip.
‘Are you joking?’
‘No,’ said Selina. ‘I would never joke about that.’
‘So you married Tarnie because… what, because you didn’t have to do any of that?’ said Kerensa, getting borderline hysterical.
‘Kerensa!’ said Polly. ‘Seriously, watch it!’
Selina shook her head.
‘Oh, I’m meant to talk about him,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Therapist says so, and it’s costing me enough…’