“Nah,” said the boy. “My grandad lived with us, just up the way a bit, near Sandwich. But this was his favorite place to fish.”

“How are your positivity pebbles coming along?” she asked.

The girl had painted a large love heart rainbow with the words Peace and Love in the middle. The boy with acne had settled on a rainbow peace symbol.

“Oh, lovely,” said Annie. “Loving the pride rainbows.” The girl grinned up at her.

Annie leaned over the third truant; she noticed the collar of his white shirt was gray. He had painted his pebble green and written in careful calligraphy You Are Good Enough.

“Well,” said Annie, “I think this one deserves a hot chocolate on the house.”

The boy looked up at her and smiled shyly. “Thanks,” he said awkwardly.

“You’re welcome. If I found that pebble on the beach, it would make my day.”

The boy smiled again, his cheeks flushing.

Annie pulled the marshmallow jar off the shelf and began to heat the milk. Gemma stopped folding napkins briefly to give Annie a kiss on the cheek and then resumed her task.

“What was that for?” Annie asked.

“No reason,” Gemma replied.

Annie delivered the hot chocolate and stopped on her way back to the counter in front of the large picture windows. It was gray outside as far as the eye could see. There were times, like now, when the rain and mist colluded to shroud the cliffs and even the promenade from view, so that it seemed as though Saltwater Nook were alone at the very edge of the world. Annie stared out into the moody nothingness and felt very small and very blessed to be a part of it.

Chapter 67

It was a quiet afternoon; one or two takeaways and an elderly couple who spent an hour or so reading newspapers and filling in the crosswords. The truants kept their presence low-key. Gemma was handy in the kitchen, and between them they got all the baking done for the next day. The café was filled with the scent of hot gingerbread and spiced biscuits, and Annie reveled in feeling super organized.

The truants brought their empty cups to the counter, their dried painted pebbles held carefully in open palms.

“Would you like me to hold on to those for you, and I’ll bury them under the stones you for tomorrow; give the paint a chance to sink in a bit more?”

The teens agreed. They thanked Annie and Gemma for having them, which made Annie feel both warm and fuzzy, and as though she were complicit in their truancy. Annie felt sorry for them with only their blazers to protect them against the elements. They had reached the door when the boy with the patch came back to the counter.

“Can I bring my CV down? For if you ever need someone to work here at weekends and holidays and stuff? I’m a fast learner.”