Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 70

‘I’m going to kill him,’ said Jayden.
‘What’s happening to our town?’ said Polly. ‘It was always so happy here. And now it’s shouting and spray paint and graffiti and just awful things.’
‘Are you going to tell Huckle?’
Polly thought of everything she hadn’t told Huckle – the harassment, the shouting – for fear of him getting cross and being unable to do anything from so far away and wanting her just to leave. She shook her head.
‘He’ll be too annoyed,’ she said. She sniffed, heavily.
‘Thank God you’re here,’ she said to Jayden, who frowned.
‘I think I might have made things worse,’ he said. ‘I think it might be because of me and the bakery thing. Tipped him over the edge.’
‘I’m not a slag, though,’ said Polly. ‘Not that that makes any difference.’
Jayden went back towards the lighthouse again.
‘Do you have any old sheets?’
‘Um,’ said Polly. ‘Only one.’ It was the one she used to line Neil’s box when it was cold in the wintertime.
‘Can we use it?’ said Jayden. ‘You need to cover this up, otherwise people will point and laugh and say things.’
‘Thanks, Jayden,’ said Polly. ‘Uh, yeah. It’s in the cupboard to the right of the fourth stairway.’
‘Fourth, huh?’ said Jayden. ‘Seriously, I don’t know how you can live here.’
Those words echoed in Polly’s brain. Out at sea, the fishing boats were steaming in and the waves glowed pink and gold in the early-morning sun. It was as beautiful a place as could be imagined, the chill of the dawn being burnt off by the rising sun, as gently as the bread rising in its pans, waiting to be turned golden in the heat of the oven; waiting with the promise of the new day to be grabbed and relished. And yet everything inside Polly felt like it was crumbling to dust.
One of the fishing boats puttered over, fearfully close to the rocks.
‘Wassat, Polly?’ shouted Archie, looking concerned. He pointed at the van. ‘Who done that?’
Polly shrugged. ‘The new baker guy, I think.’
Archie’s face grew dark.
‘Right, that’s it,’ he said. ‘I’ve had absolutely enough of this. We’re boycotting.’
‘We tried to boycott before,’ said Kendall, ‘but we got a bit hungry. Their stuff is horrible, but you know.’
‘Sssh,’ said Archie. ‘You weren’t meant to say.’
‘That’s okay,’ said Polly. ‘I don’t mind, really. You can’t come out across the causeway every time you need a sandwich.’
‘We will now,’ said Archie. ‘And we’ll tell everyone else as well.’
‘And we’ll set the bakery on fire,’ said Kendall.
‘No, don’t do that,’ said Polly and Archie at once.
‘Still, that is a terrible thing,’ said Archie, shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry to see it in our town, I really am.’
Polly nodded. ‘Me too.’
‘It feels like… it just feels like so much has gone wrong since last year.’
Polly looked at Archie with concern. Every time she had thought he might be getting a little better, grieving a little less, carrying a little less of the weight of the world around with him on the boat, it seemed not to be so. Selina was horribly up and down, but at least she tried. And Polly herself… she just felt so stuck.
Jayden came down with the old sheet.
‘Ahoy!’ he shouted. ‘Did you see what that prick did to Polly?’
‘We’re going to burn down the bakery!’ said Kendall.
‘No we’re not!’ said Archie again.
‘Oh yeah, burn it down,’ said Jayden. ‘He totally deserves it.’
‘Yeah!’ said Kendall.
‘Maybe just the sheet for now,’ said Polly. ‘Thank you. No burning down, I mean it.’
Archie nodded.
‘We’ll come and fix the van,’ he said. ‘Just let us get the haul in, and we’ll see you in a bit.’
Polly and Jayden drove carefully across to the car park and set up their stall with Neil’s old sheet hiding the ugly word. They began to serve the usual crowd of customers – more today, in fact, it was so beautiful outside – and handed out buns and baguettes with alacrity.
Someone cornered Polly saying they made a local cheese and might she be interested in it for sandwiches. She tasted it – it was a gentle creamy blue, completely delicious, and she took their details and promised to consider it.
Jayden disappeared at eight and Polly waited for Selina to come and help serve, but she didn’t appear. Their arrangement was very casual, and it was entirely possible that Selina had taken the opportunity on this beautiful day to sunbathe, so Polly threw herself into serving and cleaning and getting things out of the oven before they burned and giving change and smiling at her regulars, and in general, although she was still shocked and upset by what had happened, she was busy enough to kind of take her mind off it.
Things got slightly better when, sure enough, the little taxi boat turned up with Archie and Sten and Kendall on it, plus a large tin of green paint.
‘Sorry, me lover,’ said Archie. ‘Green is all we got because of the boat, see.’ Trochilus II, the fishing boat, was a fine sharp green colour. ‘But I tell you, it’s the best paint there is. Won’t never shift once we put it on.’
‘I’m slightly worried about that,’ said Polly, who had a faint idea that she should really be getting it resprayed in a proper vehicle way, rather than painted with boat paint, but wasn’t sure how she was going to pay for that or find the time to fit it in.
In any case, the boys looked so happy and willing to help, she had no choice really but to thank them, feed them with the lovely sugar buns that had somehow come out so light and fresh and fruity and delicious despite her sadness, and let them slap so much paint over the offending graffiti it felt like it was weighing down one side of the van.
‘There we go,’ said Archie. ‘How’s that, madam?’
‘Thank you kindly,’ said Polly. ‘Well, it is a lot better.’
In truth, it was very slightly better than a rude word, but quite a lot worse than her lovely original red and white van, but that didn’t matter for now. What mattered was that the graffiti was gone. What on earth would happen tonight, Polly had no idea. Would she have to sit in wait for him?