Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

WEDNESDAY 6TH DECEMBER

Since the inception of The Happy Christmas Memory Project, Florrie had utilised any spare moments she had searching for festive ideas. She'd covertly booked tickets for an ice-skating session over at Middleton-le-Moors for the following afternoon and was looking forward to sharing the surprise with Ed. She wasn't sure how her news would be received, but she was content in the knowledge that he'd be happy about the table reservation she'd made at The Golden Fleece for afterwards. The pub was serving hearty Christmas dinners and there was nothing Ed liked more than to get stuck into a roast with all the trimmings. It would no doubt be appreciated all the more if they needed warming up after their stint on the ice.

Florrie was grateful to her mum for enabling her to put her plans in action; Paula had been even more thrilled to cover for her when she'd shared the reason behind it.

Maggie and Bear had popped into the bookshop briefly the previous day on account of Bear wanting to work out how they'd get the new staircase into the shop. They'd declared themselves unable to attend, which hadn't come as a surprise owing to Maggie's condition, and with Bear reluctant to stray too far from his wife just in case she went into labour. In any event, the couple had a prior commitment with Maggie's sister Sophia and her husband, and their brood of lively children. Bear, who was tall, built like a barn door, and bore more than a passing resemblance to a Viking with his bushy beard and unruly mop of jaw-length hair, hadn't hidden his relief at having the perfect excuse not to put his lack of ability on the ice to the test. ‘I'm not exactly co-ordinated and light on my feet, or built for doing pirouettes,' he'd joked. Maggie had followed up with, ‘Aye, but you attempting one would be so worth seeing.' The four of them had laughed heartily at that.

As for sharing news of the sleigh ride at Danskelfe Castle with Jasmine, Florrie had spoken to the others and they'd all agreed not to mention the details to their friend until they were en route to the castle itself. ‘She's got the day blocked out which is the main thing,' Stella had said. Lark had followed up with, ‘You know what Jazz is like, she'll fret about the cost or being treated like a "charity case" if she knows about it beforehand, even if it is a Christmas present. We really don't want to take the joy out of it for her.' They'd all agreed wholeheartedly with that.

Though Florrie had made a start with The Happy Christmas Memory Project, once Ed had mentioned the staircase and the tearoom, their thoughts seemed to have been filled with that. Even so, she made a mental note not to let progress on the project slide, which was why she'd also signed herself and Ed up for the annual Boxing Day Dip that took place in the sea in front of The Jolly Sailors. She'd placed a sponsorship form on the counter in the bookshop the previous day and they'd already managed to accrue an impressive number of sponsors, with customers promising to donate generously. The participants were to wear fancy dress, this year's theme being "Pantomime Dame", with the money raised going to the local community garden.

Ed had pulled a horrified face when Florrie had first announced it to him over breakfast. ‘Won't it be freezing? I mean, the North Sea isn't exactly known for its balmy temperature,' he'd said, before taking a bite out of his toast and chewing hard. ‘Makes me shiver just thinking about it.'

Florrie had giggled. ‘Of course it'll be freezing! But the idea isn't to spend long in the water. You just make a quick dash for it, get yourself soaked, then run as fast as you can back to the Jolly where you can get changed and have a glass of brandy to help warm you through.' It had been a few years since Florrie and her friends had participated in the Boxing Day Dip, and if her memory served her correctly, the water had been so cold it actually hurt. Not that she was going to share that with Ed.

‘I thought the idea was for happy memories. Not hypothermia memories.' Ed had eyed her, taking another bite out of his toast, apparently unconvinced by her suggestion. It had made Florrie giggle some more.

‘You wuss! You're just going to have to get into the spirit of it. Trust me, you'll be laughing about it afterwards.'

He'd hurriedly swallowed his mouthful. ‘Yeah, years afterwards when the biting cold has been erased from my mind and the blood has defrosted in my veins and started pumping round my body again.'

‘Plus, I can't wait to see you dressed up like a pantomime dame!'

‘You might look all sweet on the outside, but you have a wicked streak, Florrie Appleton.' Though Ed had shaken his head, he hadn't been able to help but laugh.

Florrie had taken the opportunity to pop into Nate's upcycling shop in her lunchbreak the previous day and had been enthralled by the staircase that he'd kept propped up in his storeroom at the back of his shop. It was a great sweeping affair, which boasted a gentle curve and ornately carved wooden spindles. Since then, she hadn't been able to get it out of her mind. And she'd had to agree with Ed, the perfect place for it would be the wall at the back right-hand side of the bookshop. It would make for a striking feature as it wound its way elegantly up to the first floor.

The next step was to arrange for Alex, who was also a qualified structural engineer, to call round at the bookshop with Charlie and Bear in attendance, too. It would give the three of them the opportunity to measure up and for Alex to gather all the information he needed to draw up his plans and prepare the planning application.

It was almost closing time. Florrie had let Leah head home early; the young girl had been buzzing with excitement at the prospect of a night out with her group of friends. She'd told Florrie they'd planned a trip to the cinema before finishing up at a pizza restaurant. The name Marty had featured regularly, a blush tinting Leah's cheeks each time. Reading between the lines, Florrie guessed Marty was as keen on Leah as she was on him. The thought warmed her heart.

Ed had been upstairs for the last half hour or so, looking around the flat, scribbling down ideas for the layout; though Florrie loved the idea of a tearoom upstairs, she struggled to envisage the logistics of it because she couldn't see beyond the current layout. ‘My brain just doesn't work that way!' she'd said by way of explanation. Ed, however, told her he could see it as clear as day in his mind's eye, and from the exciting ideas he'd described, Florrie was more than happy to leave it to him to prepare the brief for Alex.

The shop was empty but for Florrie and Jilly Spencer, the customer she was serving, when the door opened, setting the bell jangling noisily. An icy blast of air whooshed into the shop as the door was held wide. Startled, Florrie and Jilly Spencer glanced across to see they'd been joined by Dodgy Dick. He wasted no time strutting about, his chest puffed out in his familiar self-important pose. His wife Wendy followed behind him in a cloud of cloying perfume, teetering on a pair of diamanté encrusted patent black heels. A feeling of unease spread through Florrie, while Gerty sat up in her bed, mistrust in her eyes.

‘Ugh! Not that infamous pair,' Jilly Spencer muttered under her breath, pushing her purchases into her shopping bag and bidding Florrie a hasty goodbye. It would seem Dodgy Dick was growing more notorious by the day.

The businessman met Florrie's eyes as he and Wendy swaggered towards the Christmas tree made of books. ‘Ooh, how very novel ,' Wendy said mockingly, before breaking out into a shrieking cackle that put Florrie in mind of nails down a blackboard. ‘Did you hear that, Dick? I made a joke. " Novel "! Hah! D'you get it? Novel !' She let rip with another round of her harsh laughter. Florrie winced.

‘Aye, very clever, love.' He smirked at Florrie. ‘See, that's the thing with my good lady wife, she's been blessed with beauty as well as brains and a quick wit. Very sharp, she is, got a brilliant business one of these.' He tapped his head. ‘It's why we make such a formidable team.'

And that's not the only reason. Florrie looked on, her discomfort growing.

‘Wendy here reckons this place would make a fantastic beauty salon. Isn't that right, Wend?' He picked up a book from the table, turning it over in his hand, throwing it down carelessly. Florrie felt herself bristle.

‘It is, Dick. I've been saying for a while this shabby little town needs bringing up to date. And I don't mean to be funny, love, but this property is wasted as a bookshop. I mean, nobody's interested in books or bookshops anymore. The smelly things are outdated, full of dusty, boring books. Who even bothers to read them? Folk are keen to move with the times. Books belong in the Dark Ages, if you ask me.'

The snort Florrie gave was as much a result of what she'd just heard as it was the older woman's perfume. From the overpowering cloud that was filling the shop like a mist that had rolled in from the sea, Wendy had evidently sprayed with a heavy hand. Florrie was rewarded with a piercing stare from the businessman's wife, who was apparently undeterred.

‘By my reckoning, this place is in the perfect location, being central, like. We could have a classy hair salon down here,' she said, sweeping her arm around in an exaggerated gesture, ‘with upstairs being converted into a beauty spa and treatment rooms offering an array of exclusive cosmetic services. Dick and I have an extensive list of contacts who'd be glad to snatch our hands off to work here.' She went to give a supercilious smile at Florrie but all her heavily Botoxed face would allow was an alarming-looking gurn.

Florrie listened, her heart hammering in her chest. She willed with all her might for Ed to hurry up and get himself down here, as Wendy and Dick continued to strut about the bookshop, sharing their increasingly loud appraisal.

The pair made for an arresting sight, with their matching heavily dyed black hair – Wendy's was coiffured into a huge, bouffant affair, while Dick had recently favoured a slicked back look, which only added to his unsavoury persona – and both were draped in expensively cut black clothing. Jasmine regularly joked that they resembled a pair of carrion crows, poised and ready to pounce. And from the look of her plumped-up trout pout, Wendy was no stranger to the "exclusive cosmetic services" she'd referred to, and applied her make-up with a hand equally as heavy as the one she'd used for her perfume. To complete the look, she was bedecked in so much glittering jewellery, anyone would be forgiven for thinking she'd been decorated for the festive season, not unlike the Christmas tree at the top of the square. She'd definitely give that a run for its money!

‘We watched your little moment on the local news last night, didn't we, Wend?' Dodgy Dick pulled out a book from the romance shelf, fanning the pages.

‘We did.' Wendy gave an exaggerated guffaw. ‘All I can say is, they must've been bloomin' desperate for news.'

‘All looked a bit desperate full stop to me, trying to create a big fuss over a little, piddly place like this, making out it's summat special, just cos you've shoved some clockwork animals in the windows and covered it with fake snow. We felt sorry for you, having to go to such lengths to get some attention.'

‘The fact the local news station was here had nothing to do with us – we didn't contact them. We don't know who did. But I'm pleased to say, it's generated a lot of positive interest in the bookshop.' Florrie felt her face flame with annoyance at his dismissive and wildly inaccurate description of Ed's hard work.

Florrie and Ed had watched Jack's unveiling and the subsequent interview with the report on the local news the previous evening. They'd both cringed with embarrassment at seeing themselves on the television screen, but, from what customers had said, it had proved a popular news article in the town.

Wendy glared at her.

‘Hmm.' Dodgy Dick pushed the book back in its place. ‘A little dicky bird tells me you and that daft lad of Peter Harte's still haven't come to your senses about selling this place. Shame. Especially when I have it in my power to make you a very tempting offer.'

Can't imagine who that little dicky bird is.

He slowly ran his finger along a bookshelf, "accidentally" knocking a book to the floor. ‘Oh dear, how did that happen?' He fixed Florrie with a smile that was more akin to a snarl. She watched, her discomfort rising, as he moved on, stepping onto the book and grinding his heel into it as he went.

The thoughtless gesture sent a stab of anger through Florrie who did all she could to bite down on her outrage. It wasn't easy, but there was no way she was going to play into his hands and give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd riled her.

Wendy eyed her gleefully, a spiteful gleam in her eyes.

Though her heart was beating violently in her chest, Florrie stood firm. ‘Ed and I don't need to "come to our senses".'

‘That right?' He ran his tongue over his teeth, making her stomach twist. ‘Some folk could do with knowing it's not always the most sensible option to dig their heels in, especially when they're holding the town back with their daft notions of family loyalty or other such tripe.'

‘Entreshed, that's what I call it, isn't it, Dick?' said Wendy, puffing up her hair with her vivid red talons. ‘Stuck in the past, no thought of looking to the future.'

‘Aye, love, you do. And I reckon you've got a point.'

‘Entrenched,' said Florrie, unable to help herself.

‘That's what I said.' Wendy shot her a filthy look. Dick followed suit.

Choosing to disregard the spike of fear that shot through her, Florrie said, ‘And some folk could do with knowing when to take no for an answer.' What are you doing, Florrie? Oh my God! Have you lost your marbles? You're speaking to a mean and nasty man with dodgy connections and no scruples! She drew in a fortifying breath, using every ounce of her strength in a bid to keep her voice steady. ‘It's just as well Ed and I have turned the bookshop around and made it into a success, then.'

Another mocking shriek of a laugh escaped Wendy's red-painted lips. ‘ Success ! Did you hear that, Dick? She reckons this place is a success.'

Undeterred, Florrie continued, ‘It is a success. And we have big plans for the future.' She regretted her last sentence as soon as the words had left her mouth. What on earth possessed you to say that?

Dodgy Dick spun round on his heels, pinning her with an icy stare, his eyes narrowing. ‘And what "big plans" would they be then?' It hadn't escaped Florrie's attention his words had developed a slightly menacing tone. Her heart started pumping harder.

‘They're in the early stages, so I couldn't possible share them at the moment.' She hoped he didn't detect the shake in her voice.

‘Oh, I think it would be a good time to share them, before you make any silly mistakes. I'm very interested to hear what they involve, as I'm sure my colleagues would be, too.' He started to walk slowly towards her, a threatening air emanating from him, Wendy by his side. If they weren't so intimidating they'd be comical.

Gerty got to her feet, growling, her hackles raised.

‘No one's going to be sharing any plans with either of you.'

The couple turned to see Ed making his way across the shop floor, his expression as hard as stone. Relief rushed through Florrie.

‘Ah, look who the cat's dragged in,' said Dodgy Dick, pulling himself up to his full height of five-feet-six and puffing out his chest further. He put Florrie in mind of a little bantam cock bird, strutting about, fluffing up his feathers in a display of machismo.

Ignoring his comment, Ed said, ‘I'm guessing you're here on account of my parents. Again.' His eyes were full of an anger Florrie had never witnessed before. ‘So let me take this opportunity to make this perfectly clear. That way, you won't have to trouble yourselves again.'

Dodgy Dick turned to Wendy and smirked. ‘This should be good, lass.'

Ed didn't flinch. ‘Florrie and I will not be selling the bookshop. Not now, not ever. Okay? It was my grandfather's greatest wish that we run it together, and that's exactly what we're going to do. And we're going to make it a business he'd be proud of.'

‘Pfft! You foolish young pup! You've no idea what a stupid mistake you're making,' Wendy said scornfully.

‘I doubt that very much,' said Ed, as Gerty's growl reverberated around the shop.

Dodgy Dick looked up at Ed, his mouth twisting meanly. ‘Leave it, Wend. Some folk don't know what's good for 'em.'

‘It's just as well we do, then, isn't it?' Ed said.

‘You'll learn,' Dodgy Dick said, his eyes flashing with silent fury that sent a shiver running up Florrie's spine.

‘Now, it's gone five o'clock, so I think it's time you left… unless you'd like to buy something?' Ed held eye contact with him.

‘I have no intention of buying owt from this dump, but I will take one of these for the grandkids. It's the least I deserve after that free advice I've just given you.' Dodgy Dick turned, pinning them with his shark-like stare. ‘Don't let anyone say I'm not a reasonable man. I'll give you until the New Year to come to your senses about this place. I reckon by then you'll be keen for me to take it off your hands.' With that, he snatched up a copy of It was The Night Before Christmas and followed his wife as she sashayed out of the shop, leaving an air of displeasure in their wake.

Florrie waited until they were well away from the bookshop before rushing over and locking the door, quickly pulling down the blind. ‘Oh my God! That was so awful!' She clasped her hands to her chest. ‘I'm shaking like a leaf. I was literally willing you to come downstairs.'

Ed pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. ‘Well, it worked, I'd got this overwhelming feeling that something wasn't right.' He gently kissed the top of her head, squeezing her tight. ‘I'm so sorry you had to experience that on your own.'

‘What do you think they meant by saying we didn't know what a mistake we were making and how we'll be keen for him to take the bookshop off our hands?' Her mind was racing, Dodgy Dick's menacing eyes taking centre stage.

Ed pulled back, resting his hands on her shoulders, dipping his chin to look into her eyes. ‘Don't take any notice, they're just idle threats. He's a bully, full of big talk and hot air, that's all. And his wife's no better.' His expression darkened.

Though his words went some way to reassure her, Florrie wasn't completely convinced.