and so together they begun planning a complete change of direction for their lives. They took night courses on baking and scoured the internet for the ideal premises. The old Bakery in Green Bay had been closed for years and when the owner passed away Kristy and Simon had picked up the property for a steal compared to Sydney prices. With no children and a very healthy savings account they moved in and renovated, replaced old machinery and using Kristy’s expertise in Marketing, found a few key supply contracts. Between these, the local and passing tourist trade they made enough to cover their costs. It was a far cry from their previous life, but one Kristy said, that they wouldn’t change for anything.
‘You know Lori,’ Kristy spoke between mouthfuls of their Sew Seedy loaf she’d cut and spread with butter for them to share, ‘you should absolutely take some of our bread to sell in your store.’
With her cheeks bulging Lori gave a non-committal shrug. She didn’t want to offend her, but highly doubted she could sell anything in the store, no matter how delicious it was.
Kristy must have read her thoughts. ‘I mean, from what you tell me it could be a complete flop, but surely Murfey’s residents eat bread don’t they? And if they’re all heading down to Fisherman’s Bay for their weekly shop then they’re probably all eating frozen white sliced toast for breakfast. I certainly don’t see them in here.’
Lori swallowed then laughed carefully. ‘Well, when you put it like that, I see no harm in trying. After all, showing some thoughtful consideration into the business may help me gain points.’
‘Yay!’ Kristy leant over the counter and hugged Lori.
Simon would drop off a dozen mixed loaves early the next morning Kristy suggested, and Lori headed off with a chocolate croissant for the journey home, certain she’d made a new friend.
Back in Murfey’s Beach, and after the regular little school crowd had dispersed Lori took Bob for a long walk on the beach. He trotted happily up and down between the waves and the last of the holiday-homers packing up their kids before heading back to their beach shacks for the evening. ‘I wonder what they do when the sun goes down,’ Lori spoke to Bob as he passed her with a clump of seaweed in his mouth.
Probably all jump into their four-wheel drive BMWs and head down to the restaurants in Fisherman’s Bay for dinner and a glass of overpriced wine, she answered herself.
As they made their way up the rocks and into the garden Lori could hear what sounded like a party coming from the back of the shop. If she wanted to win over the residents then leaving the doors open for squatters to come and go as they please was probably not a great idea. She’d have to get tough and start locking up when she wasn’t around to serve. Until she sat down and took a good look at the books Lori had no way of knowing if people were just helping themselves to supplies whenever the place was left un-manned.
Inside the back room, and encircled by a large group of raucous tweens, Senior and Junior Turner were conducting what looked like some sort of insane children’s party. Zeb saw Lori first but chose to ignore her. The younger Turner, spotting Lori standing mouth agape in the doorway, picked his way through the chaos. ‘Hey you, want to join in?’
‘Uh, no. Thank you anyway. You could tell me what you’re doing here though.’ Lori tried her best to remain polite.
‘It’s Youth Club night Lorikeet.’ Zeb pointed at a piece of paper sticky taped to the wall without once looking up from where he sat helping a little girl doing something with clothes pegs.
‘Umm, yes, what he said.’ Younger Turner ran his fingers through his hair.
At least he had the decency to look uncomfortable Lori thought. She stepped over a couple of boys wrestling on the floor and looked at the paper. A timetable detailed a bizarre variety of events, from ‘Seniors Tai Chi’ to ‘Baby
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