Sunrise By the Sea by Jenny Colgan

Chapter Six

Reuben had built the new holiday homes when he’d renovated the school – Lowin went there and of course he had to have the absolute best of everything, so Reuben had to do up the school and figured he might as well do a little bit of business while he was about it.

The renovation however had turned into a massive nightmare as anyone within touching distance of Mount Polbearne had suddenly decided that their children absolutely had to go to the place with the cool new gym and the music instruction and the small classes and the adorable commute. There were even plans for an art department, currently held up in the planning committee as Reuben could only hold off on being rude to people for so long.

Archie, one of the more enterprising fishermen, set up a mainland commuting boat so they weren’t dependent on the tides and the children loved it. Even Lowin got fed up of being taken privately on the Riva boat and insisted on joining the little outboard motor and wearing his own life jacket with his name written on it. Everyone else’s was written on in Sharpie, but his was embroidered. They all had a great time.

The school was a huge hit. But the holiday cottages had encountered a snag – the years of terrible weather and flooding had meant they couldn’t produce a stable road to them: some of the houses existed, but you couldn’t easily drive to them, park at them, get a buggy along the street and so on.

Reuben’s new plan was to offer them as longer-term lets to people that wouldn’t be packing and unpacking every five minutes, then keep haranguing officials till they either built him a new road or invented hover bikes.

He had tenants turning up: the school music teacher, who was having trouble with the commute; and some irritating flatmate of his nephew (who had been sent to the UK and who Reuben was meant to be keeping an eye on, which meant he just sent him extra money from time to time). Anyway, keeping Caius quiet kept Reuben’s annoying sister off his back while she went through her third divorce, so that was always something.

He’d given the keys to Polly the previous week and asked her to let everyone in despite her clear and obvious objections that she was running her own business and couldn’t take time off in the middle of the day to do that for him, didn’t he have anyone from his multimillion-dollar corporation, or perhaps his wife, you know, the one who didn’t have a job?

Good-natured Kerensa had laughed and said of course she did, she was getting her nails done so that Reuben didn’t leave her for a twenty-year-old and Reuben had said damn straight. Polly had said, well, it used to be that only Reuben was a putz but it appeared that marriage had infected Kerensa as well and now they were both putzes. To which Kerensa pointed out that they were putzes who were also pouring Polly another glass of champagne while Lowin’s nanny looked after her children. (Polly had her own thoughts about this as Lowin’s nanny tended to run after him, while backing him up every time he tried to terrorise Avery, which was often. Daisy versus the nanny, on the other hand, was a surprisingly fair fight.)

So Polly had a new thing to add to her already long to-do list that Monday morning, including reassuring Huckle that his business trip would be worthwhile – sales needed confidence too, and his handsome face had looked so worried that morning. She thought he was brilliant and his honey was awesome and she’d done her best to perk him up. Then there was Avery who had taken to wearing a pair of Daisy’s stripy tights round his neck and calling it his pet snake Jiminy, which had caused quite the kerfuffle that morning, as well as the fact that he’d caught the tights on the doorknob on his way out to school and nearly garrotted himself. And now she had Mrs Bradley standing in front of her sighing and saying, ‘Pasties again.’

‘Well, yes,’ said Polly, trying not to sound stiff. ‘We are a bakery in Cornwall.’

‘I’m just saying, you could mix it up a bit.’

‘I did mix it up! I did chilli bread and nobody would talk to me for a week.’

And Neil had got the worst diarrhoea of any bird she’d ever known, she didn’t add.

‘It would be nice to get a little bit of variety.’

Polly thought about it. God knows they needed the money.

‘Thanks for the input, Mrs Bradley. Anything else?’

‘I’ll take four pasties.’

Polly smiled as the bell dinged her out, then looked up rather tiredly as it dinged again.

‘. . . Uh, excuse me?’

The voice was so very quiet she didn’t even hear it until the second time. Standing in front of her was a short, round, sweet-faced dark-haired girl, her skin pale as if it hadn’t seen the sun for a long time, her eyes wide and oddly frightened.