“Stay, Pip!” the boy instructed a Jack Russell trying to accompany him ashore. The little black and white terrier sat on its haunches, wistfully holding its head on one side. He understood; he was the watch dog.

The drifter was made fast to the quay, her night’s catch boxed and removed to the fish-market. Of her crew, only the teen-ager remained. The skipper and the rest of the hands had repaired to “The Hoy”, Seatown’s oldest public house which was right on the quay, not far away.

“Won’t be long, lad – gotta get a loaf – before Dad gets back. Just guard the boat.”

The bakery stood at the harbour end of a cobbled road leading to the quay. It was barely fifty yards from the water’s edge. The young fisherman approached the bread counter, evading the stout woman about to take his order. Flushing slightly, he gazed entranced at the dark-eyed, olive-skinned girl standing next to her. The girl brushed flour from her auburn curls with the back of one hand while refilling a shelf with cottage loaves. “I, I’d like one of those please,” he blurted. She coloured and hesitated, glancing warily at her mother.

Huffing, the matron turned to the next customer. As she did so, eyes narrowed, mouth pursed, her lowered brows signaled a warning to her daughter.

The girl dropped a fresh, warm loaf into a paper bag. She would not have spoken, except to state the price, but another customer called her mother away to the window.

“Ma’s not keen,” the girl frowned, sadly.

“I can see that,” grumbled the boy, scowling. Then, urgently, “When can I see you – Poppy, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Poppy.” She leaned towards him. “Goin’to pictures with my friend, Alice, this evening – first performance,” she hissed, casting a glance towards her mother. Other customers looked impatient, but at least the throng delayed her mother’s return to the counter.

The boy left, cuddling the loaf. Sitting comfortably on a pile of discarded deck hoses, he whistled. The terrier bounded ashore and sat beside his young master. With head on one side, forelegs quivering in anticipation, he eyed the loaf.

“How can I get to know her, Pip?” The lovesick fisherman cut the loaf into two, putting half back into the bag, and sharing the rest with the terrier. A footfall sounded behind him.