Read Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery for Free Online Page B

taking on a strict expression. Malcolm helped himself to four, pushing them into his mouth one after another.
    ‘Who’s paying for this?’ observed Jeremy, lifting his head briefly from his smartphone. ‘God, the reception in this place is a disgrace.’
    Polly thought that Jeremy not comforting his crying mother was a bit of a disgrace, but wasn’t going to mention it.
    ‘Yeah, Mum…’ said Malcolm, grabbing another couple of cheese curls before Flora could make a getaway, and looking businesslike.
    Polly’s heart started to beat faster. They must have discussed it. They must have an idea what they were going to do with the bakery. She wanted to turn her head to look for Huckle. Knowing where he was in a room was the best thing, she had found, in almost every situation. Janet had shaken off her arm and had wiped the tears from her cheeks with a real cotton handkerchief.
    ‘Yes,’ she repeated. ‘Who’s paying for this?’
    ‘Well, we just did it in the bakery, you know. Out of respect.’
    Janet coughed and looked very formal.
    ‘As you know, I’m my sister’s executor. I take the role very seriously, obviously, and would want to stick exactly to the rules.’
    ‘Of course,’ said Polly, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. ‘Of course. Whatever Gillian would have wanted.’
    Malcolm was looking around for more food. When he spotted Flora, he summoned her back with a brusque movement of his fingers.
    ‘And, of course, my two wonderful boys,’ said Janet, looking at the unprepossessing specimens with beaming motherly pride and the closest thing to a smile Polly had yet seen from her. ‘They’re the businessmen of the family. Malcolm’s going to run all of Gillian’s concerns until we work out the most profitable, and best, way to deal with her legacy. I think that’s fairest for everyone, don’t you?’
    Polly didn’t know what to say. This was so sudden. She’d got used to running her own business, making all the decisions and facing almost no interference from above.
    ‘Now Jeremy’s terribly busy doing important work in the city… He’s quite the big noise in Poole, you know!’
    ‘Okay,’ said Polly.
    ‘But Malcolm is going to move out here, keep a close eye on things. You know, you can’t be too careful with staff! And you did burrow your way in pretty close, hmm? Got your feet under the table? So we’ll be taking a look at that.’
    Malcolm grunted. Polly stepped backwards and just nodded dumbly. She caught hold of the side of the table.
    ‘So you’re moving to Mount Polbearne?’ she said, trying to keep her voice light and pleasant. Malcolm rolled his eyes.
    ‘Well, I’ll be in and out, yeah. Till I get things shipshape, know what I mean? No more slacking, huh? But I’m pretty busy. And I don’t want to get buried alive in this hole.’
    This seemed an awkward thing to say at his aunt’s funeral, but Polly didn’t mention it.
    ‘So are you leaving a job to come, or…’
    Malcolm looked bullish.
    ‘Uh, no, I’m kind of between things right now. I’m like a consultant? On lots of different stuff?’
    ‘Okay,’ said Polly. But she didn’t feel like it was okay at all.
     

     
    The old bell that still hung precariously in the ruined tower at the top of Mount Polbearne began to toll solemnly, and the fishermen doffed their caps as they left the building and followed the coffin. A hearse couldn’t fit through the narrow winding streets, so the coffin was carried by Janet’s two sons, Archie, Jayden, Huckle and Patrick. Once again, Tarnie was conspicuous by his absence. No one at this funeral was not thinking of the last time they’d been together when somebody had died.
    There was a glowering sky outside; it wasn’t raining, but it was certainly threatening it. A few disconsolate day trippers at the harbour wall were looking about confused, unsure as to why everything was closed up. The entire town trudged slowly up round the winding cobbles, heads down against the