Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery Read Free Page A

Polly suspected, having a flirt and a chat with Jayden was the highlight of their days.
    ‘He’s a very hungry blessing,’ grumbled Polly.
    ‘And she’s left that bird of hers outside,’ said another lady, disapprovingly. They all muttered amongst themselves. Polly felt like rolling her eyes, but didn’t. To some people she would always be the new girl, she knew. She moved along to the next person in the queue.
    ‘What can I get you?’ she asked politely.
    ‘Have you got any of those yummy loaves with the little bits of sausage in them? I loves them.’
    ‘No,’ said Polly, with a last glare at Jayden, who pretended she wasn’t there and suddenly looked very busy. ‘We don’t.’
    The shop bell dinged.
    ‘Hey, Poll, you left Neil outside!’ said a big booming American voice.
    The shop, very small to begin with, suddenly felt smaller still as the shadow of Huckle fell over the counter. He was very tall, long-legged, broad in the shoulders, with a thick head of yellow hair that made him look larger still. Even now Polly was sometimes amazed that he was her boyfriend; he looked like he’d stepped out of an advert that would have lots of desert and cacti and cowboy hats in it.
    ‘Seriously, man,’ said Huckle. Neil was sitting on Huckle’s jacket sleeve – he didn’t normally do this – gazing at Polly with a wounded expression.
    ‘I didn’t leave him anywhere,’ said Polly, exasperated. ‘Birds aren’t meant to be in the workplace. He should be hopping over to the rocks and trying to pick up a lady puffin.’
    ‘Or another boy puffin,’ said Huckle. ‘I don’t think you should be prejudiced.’
    Polly looked straight at him.
    ‘Are you calling me a bird homophobe?’
    ‘I’m just saying we need to be open to all of Neil’s choices.’
    ‘Except the one about letting him in the shop!’
    Huckle sighed. The old ladies gathered round to examine Neil (or, Polly reckoned mischievously, to get their clawed hands on Huckle’s bicep). When they’d finally cleared, she leaned over to kiss her boyfriend.
    ‘Hey,’ she said, breathing in his lovely warm scent, slightly tinged with the oil from the motorbike he rode everywhere. ‘Not out and about this morning?’
    Huckle shook his head. ‘Sure am! I just popped in to tell you: Dubose is coming.’
    Polly bit her lip.
    ‘Seriously?’
    Her heart started to beat a little faster. She’d never met Dubose. She’d never met any of Huckle’s family before; Dubose was his younger brother, and something of a black sheep.
    ‘What’s he up to?’
    Huckle rolled his eyes.
    ‘Don’t start me. Apparently he needed a break.’
    Polly looked confused.
    ‘Isn’t he a farmer?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Huckle. ‘Exactly. Farmers don’t get breaks!’
    ‘Like bakers,’ said Polly.
    ‘Except tougher,’ said Huckle.
    ‘Oh yeah.’
    Huckle shook his head.
    ‘He’s left Clemmie in charge.’ Clemmie was Dubose’s girlfriend.
    ‘Isn’t she any good?’
    ‘She’s great! She’s fine. But running a farm… it takes a lot of effort.’
    Huckle’s brows drew together. It wasn’t often that he looked cross. Polly thought it was cute.
    ‘When is he showing up?’
    ‘A couple of weeks, I think. He’s “bumming about”.’ Huckle gave a resigned smile. ‘He doesn’t like making plans or being tied down by anything like notice. It’s okay if he stays, right?’
    ‘Well of course, but oh wow. Do you think he’s going to like me?’
    Huckle rolled his eyes.
    ‘Dubose likes everyone,’ he said. Polly looked at him.
    ‘Is that a note of jealousy in your voice?’ she asked slyly.
    ‘Is there a new young man coming?’ said Mrs Corning. ‘Oh, it’s all excitement round here these days.’
     

     
    When Polly and Huckle had first met, he had been a beekeeper nearby, and she had sold his honey through the shop. After their first attempt at romance hadn’t worked out, he’d gone home to his native Savannah and worked in an office job there. But he