Sunrise By the Sea by Jenny Colgan

Chapter Thirty-six

‘Peow peow peow peow!’

‘I am not sure,’ said Polly carefully, ‘that shooting at the storm will make it go away.’

She had tried to make things cosy – they had lit the hurricane lanterns with which the lighthouse was always well supplied, and the fire was banked high, which just about made up for the fact that of course the television was off and the very loud streaming of Ratatouille, a film Polly loved as much as the children did, was no longer placating Daisy. The child was no longer small enough to be comfortably hoiked around in the crook of Polly’s arm, but Polly was doing her best.

Huckle glanced at his phone.

‘Holy crap,’ he whispered, as Daisy stiffened.

‘Is Daddy swearing?’

‘Nooo,’ said Polly and was almost relieved when Daisy slipped down and announced to Avery that apparently holy crap wasn’t swearing and they could say it now whereupon they started galloping around the room chanting ‘ho-lee crap! ho-lee crap!’ as Polly sidled up to look at what Huckle was showing her on the phone. She closed her eyes. It was a text from Andy. The harbour wall was crumbling and the causeway was losing its cobbles. Oh my God.

‘Do you remember when they wanted to build a permanent bridge?’ she asked Huckle wearily, who nodded. They had turned it down: happy to live half on an island, half connected to the land, as the causeway rose and fell through the tides, giving them the best of both worlds, just as it had been for hundreds of years.

Polly frowned.

‘Do you think it’s possible we should have just let them?’

Huckle was already shrugging on a huge outdoor coat and checking his boots were dry.

‘Right now I do.’

‘We can’t lose the causeway! It’s been there for eight hundred years.’

‘Well, that might be part of the problem. And the rest of the problem . . . probably human beings.’

‘HO-LEE CRAP! HO-LEE CRAP!’

Polly screwed up her face and ran to make him up a flask of coffee.

‘Be careful out there.’

‘I don’t even know if we can save it,’ said Huckle, grabbing a torch and one of the hurricane lamps. ‘If you see me back in five minutes . . . I’m not sure that’s good news.’

‘Be careful,’ said Polly, going up towards him and nuzzling his neck briefly, breathing in his lovely warm scent. He held her closely.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Although you know I have good life insurance. You could replace the windows.’

‘Do not even joke about things like that.’

He kissed her on the forehead as she tipped the hot coffee into the flask and, instinctively, added a couple of spare buns to his pockets. She could tell he was doing his absolute best to be brave, and loved him to distraction.

‘See you later, kiddos.’

And he walked out of the lighthouse and into the maelstrom. Neil eeped and vanished up Polly’s jumper, as freaked out as she was. Polly watched Huckle go, then steeled herself, set her face, turned, with difficulty, back towards the room.

‘Okay, kids!’ said Polly. ‘Who wants a story in front of the fire and some hot chocolate?’

‘Yay!’ said Avery, and even Daisy brightened up at the thought of hot chocolate.

‘Marshmallows?’ she asked innocently.

‘Maybe.’

‘YAY!’

‘I love storms,’ said Avery happily.