Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 65

‘Okay, well done, great big important farmer.’
Huckle smiled.
‘Well I’m not sure you know what net means.’
‘Shut up and don’t be insulting! Those are net figures after materials, fuel and… Are you ready?’
‘I’m ready,’ said Huckle.
‘Paying you back for the van.’
There was a pause.
‘What, all of it?’
‘No, not all of it,’ said Polly, slightly deflated. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. No, I mean, pro rata. For the week.’
Huckle quickly did some sums in his head.
‘But that’s… that’s incredibly good!’
‘I know!’ said Polly.
‘Is that just from the article?’
‘Well, let’s say the article and also me being awesome,’ said Polly.
Huckle smiled with genuine pleasure.
‘This is really starting to move. Are you upping volumes?’
‘I am,’ said Polly. ‘And the weather forecast for the week is blue, blue skies ahead.’
‘Warm?’
‘Well, what do you call warm?’
‘Let’s not get into that,’ said Huckle. It was 106 degrees Fahrenheit outside.
‘Warm enough for buckets and spades and jumpers,’ said Polly. ‘And the first schools will be starting to break up soon – those posh private ones where they’re all fancy and think holidaying in some decaying old British resort is really groovy.’
Huckle shook his head.
‘That is amazing,’ he said. ‘That’s great. I can’t believe you’re turning it around.’
‘Can’t you?’
‘YES. Yes, of course I can!’
Now it was Polly’s turn to smile.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘I think someone could probably use that other half of their ticket soon.’
Huckle blinked.
‘It’s early days,’ he said. ‘I mean, this might just be a blip.’
‘Life is a blip,’ said Polly. ‘You’ve kind of just got to get on with it anyway, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, but, you know. To be sure.’
There was a long pause.
‘Don’t you want to come home?’ said Polly, finally.
‘What? No, of course I do. That’s not fair. But I can’t leave Clemmie.’
‘Look,’ said Polly. ‘You have to realise Dubose isn’t coming back. He thinks he’s a student on a gap year. He’s bouncing about. Tell Clemmie it’s over. She needs to just go back to… Well, I don’t know where she’s from. But she can’t run a farm by herself, and she’s taking too much of you.’
‘Yes,’ said Huckle. ‘But there’s another thing.’
And he told her.
Polly swore vociferously.
‘Tell him,’ she said. ‘Just email him and tell him.’
‘I promised I wouldn’t. She wants to tell him herself.’
‘But then you’ll be there for ever.’
‘I won’t.’
‘It’s not fair,’ said Polly. ‘It’s just not fair.’
She heard the petulant note in her voice and hated herself for sounding so selfish and horrible. Ugh. She knew it wasn’t Huckle’s fault; he was doing the right thing. She just missed him so much.
‘It’s a great farm,’ said Huckle. ‘It could work really well for them. Much better than Clemmie going back to her mom’s in the city, raising a baby alone.’
‘Well that’s what’s going to happen.’
There was a long pause.
‘Polly,’ said Huckle. ‘That’s my niece or nephew we’re talking about.’
Polly bit her tongue in frustration and disappointment. She wanted to be better than this, not to let her anger come through.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know. But you should just tell him.’
‘It’s not my place to do that.’
Polly heaved a great sigh.
‘And,’ said Huckle, ‘you know, the money… I mean, I can make money here. Good money. So that will help…’
‘I’m making money!’
‘As of three days ago.’
‘WHAT?’
‘Mr Huckle?’ Jackson’s voice came through the barn door.
‘Look, I didn’t mean it like that,’ said Huckle. ‘I’ll call you in the morning, okay? I really have to go.’
Polly felt a lump in her throat. She wanted to beg him to come home, to go to the airport and come home, for crying out loud. But of course she couldn’t. She wanted to be nice, she really did. But she was so very tired.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Don’t call me in the morning, though. I’m too busy.’
Huckle blinked.
‘I want to.’
‘Well, whatever,’ said Polly.
There was a pause.
‘Oh,’ said Polly. ‘And you didn’t ask me if Neil has come back yet.’
‘Did Neil come back?’ asked Huckle in disbelief.
‘No,’ said Polly. And she hung up the phone.
Chapter Nineteen
‘You should be looking happier than you are,’ observed Kerensa, who had stopped off to see Polly between dashing from one meeting to another across the Cornish coast. She ate one of the sugar buns. It was delicious. She looked at another, then shook her head.
‘You can have one,’ said Polly.
‘I can’t,’ said Kerensa. ‘If I grow too big for these clothes, I can’t afford any others.’
‘Yes, and you shouldn’t be looking as happy as you are,’ said Polly. ‘I am horribly jealous.’
Kerensa smiled to herself.
‘Oh well, you know. It’s not so bad.’
‘What’s Reuben doing?’
‘Amazing things,’ said Kerensa. ‘We’ve worked our way through most of the Kama Sutra. Also, he’s working on a dating website for people who… take a bit of time to get to know.’
‘You mean ugly people?’
‘No!’ said Kerensa. ‘No, just people most folk don’t like when they meet them. He’s trying to get Malcolm to sign up.’
‘I don’t think Malcolm knows everybody hates him.’