Page 83 of Sunrise By the Sea

Nonna was now adding the peas to some broad beans and making a mint dressing for the freshest, lightest salad Marisa could imagine. She wanted nothing more than to be sitting in hernonna’s courtyard, the sun pouring in, drinking sparkling water and waiting for lunch.

‘I just don’t meet anyone else.’

‘Well! Get out! Meet other people! Come and visit yournonna!’

‘I would love to,’ said Marisa avidly, even though the idea of getting to a crowded noisy airport and dealing with queues and strangers and boarding a plane was up there with nipping over to NASA and signing up for the Mars mission.

‘Now it is lunchtime. Get some sleep. Do not take him any more food until you know his intentions are pure.’

‘His intentions are non-existent,’ said Marisa.

Nonna sniffed. ‘He is a man; you are a woman. If he likes women, there is nothing wrong with you.’

‘I think,’ said Marisa, ‘that’s the biggest compliment you’ve ever paid me.’

Chapter Fifty

The weather cleared up in the afternoon and as well as her hard-won moving outside, Marisa couldn’t bear sitting in, listening to the piano lessons next door, each one an agony. His patient growl; the clumping repetition of the students’ slow lines. All of it was painful to Marisa and she pulled on her coat and did what she said she’d do: she managed to go down to see Polly.

It was nearly the end of the day for Polly who was waiting on the children returning and hadn’t really been expecting Marisa back, considering she wasn’t well, and hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up.

The new door had arrived, conveyed with great fanfare by Reuben, and of course she had been very grateful; she was very grateful, but she couldn’t possibly say now how much they were still in trouble.

Marisa kept close to the walls of the houses again, remembering to do her breathing – although thinking about meals didn’t help as it led her back to the previous evening – as she headed down the hill.

People smiled and nodded at her and she did her best to return them. Here and there were houses still open and drying out, and there was a large collection of ruined furniture down on the docks waiting for the refuse boat that was coming to take it away.

Still, Mount Polbearne made a pretty sight in the watery sunshine. The houses were being repainted already, many of which had long needed it, and there was a faint smell of fresh whitewash in the air. Now the day had cleared there were lots of people out on the street, calling to one another, borrowing tools and sharing biscuits. Obviously what had happened had been terrible but there was a definite sense of everyone coming together. Andy had even restrung the fairy lights above his beer garden in defiance of the storm, lending a promise of lovely light evenings ahead. It was nice to see them. I could sit in a beer garden, thought Marisa defiantly. She could. Could she?

The bakery was winding down, almost empty. Polly smiled and waved to see her; Jayden had already gone for the day.

‘Hey!’ she said.

‘Hello,’ said Marisa. ‘I came to talk about . . . well. Things I was thinking of for the bakery.’

She started unpacking the rucksack she’d prepared that afternoon. Polly beamed.

‘I wasn’t sure you weren’t just chewing the fat. Are you serious?’

Marisa held up her apron.

‘I am completely serious. You have a hot food licence, right?’

‘Surely do, class one,’ said Polly proudly.

‘Okay. Well. Want to fire them up?’

They turned the closed sign round on the bakery and cleared a workspace through the back, as well as whacking the ovens up to five hundred degrees. It got very hot inside the bakery very quickly.

‘Phew,’ said Marisa. ‘This will dry you out.’

‘I know,’ said Polly. ‘Reuben bought us some super-duper triple-glazed door which he thinks is brilliant but it doesn’t let any draughts in. Also, it’s too heavy for my old ladies. It’s going to kill someone. Or, more likely, their dog.’

Marisa winced. ‘Ah.’

She unpacked the huge jar of fresh tomato sauce that had been simmering on the stove for hours.

‘Oh my God,’ said Polly as she opened it. ‘That smells like heaven! What’s in it?’

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