Page 89 of Sunrise By the Sea

‘Well,’ said Huckle, beaming, and the pleasure Marisa felt at making another human being happy outweighed the fact that she had patently lied to do it. She found herself wondering briefly what Father Giacomo would say to that but shook it out of her mind and headed down into the village to start another busy evening shift trying to explain to people why she didn’t allow pineapple on her pizza although they were welcome to add it at home if they wished. Neither did she do ‘stuffed crust’ or anything with the word ‘feast’ in it.

Because she had found her voice, she said it with a smile, and by the time people had eaten their first slice, they simply didn’t mind.

She and Polly found an easy rhythm working together, even if Polly did it on several cups of very strong coffee.

‘You know,’ Marisa said, ‘it’s not difficult, not really. Couldn’t Jayden do some nights?’

‘Hmmm,’ said Polly. It was still a question of money, but she also found it incredibly difficult to leave the business at such a fledgling stage. She needed to see which bits of the evening were noisy, which were quiet, how it ebbed and flowed, what would happen when the novelty wore off.

The phone rang. It was a house in Looe, the town on the mainland directly facing them. Could they possibly deliver their pizza by boat?

‘We had one a week ago,’ explained the woman on the other end of the line, ‘and I just can’t stop thinking about it.’

Polly and Marisa looked at each other.

‘It’ll be freezing,’ said Marisa. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘The price of the boat . . .’ said Polly.

‘I know,’ said the woman. ‘But it’sreallygood pizza.’

‘We need drones,’ said Marisa as Polly put the phone down.

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself,’ said Polly, smiling. ‘Drones, really.’

‘Not really.’

‘Okay,’ said Polly. ‘Sorry. Sleep deprived.’

‘You really should . . .’

‘I know, I know. I will take a night off when—’

‘Three margaritas and two pepperoni please!’

It was Jayden.

‘I can’t get you working in here,’ said Polly. ‘You’ll eat all the stock. Have you got guests in?’

Jayden had the grace to look a bit embarrassed.

‘Yes,’ he said unconvincingly. ‘We totally do.’

‘How’s married life?’ said Polly.

‘Well, I think we’re finally getting to the stage where we’re comfortable with each other,’ said Jayden, who had always been in awe of his pretty young bride Florrie.

‘Don’t get too comfortable,’ said Polly. Although it was a losing battle trying to stop Jayden’s natural physique becoming completely spherical. It was simply how he was built.

When he had been a fisherman, a long time ago – and hated it to the very depths of his being – he had managed to stay in reasonable shape with the intense physical labour. Working in a bakery was simply not the same as being on a fishing boat in a force five for thirty-six hours into the eye of the storm.

Not having to gut fish made Jayden happy every single day of his life. His sole deepest fear was that Florrie would get onBake Off– she was an excellent patissier – and leave him for Paul Hollywood. Apart from that he led the life of almost total contentment, the kind won by contemplating every day how you have escaped a terrible fate.

‘I think being comfortable is very nice,’ he said, and Polly grinned and gave him a stonking staff discount then thought better of it and waved him away without asking for anything – she paid him what she could afford, but it was little enough.

‘No, don’t do that,’ moaned Jayden.

‘No, I mean it. Take them. You’re opening up tomorrow and I’m having a lie-in.’

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