Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

‘I think our Florrie – AKA our new local celebrity – has had the most going on this week, what with the window reveal, book readings and signings, and interview with the local news channel. Have things settled down after the bookshop was on the telly? Oh, and can we have your autograph?' Maggie flashed a wide beam Florrie's way. She'd sent her a text straight after she'd seen the news article on the television, raining praise and congratulations down on her and Ed. As had all of her friends. It had all felt slightly surreal to Florrie.

‘Ooh, yeah! The kids and me watched that,' said Jasmine. ‘You can imagine how excited they were when they caught sight of themselves in the background.'

‘Aww, they looked so cute.' A gentle smile lit up Lark's pale-green eyes. ‘And you and Ed did a brilliant job of promoting the bookshop – it looked amazing .'

‘You did.' Stella nodded, Maggie and Jasmine following suit.

‘Thanks, lasses. We've just about got over the embarrassment of seeing ourselves on the screen.' Florrie scrunched up her nose and gave a self-conscious laugh. Did her voice really sound like that? She had no idea her accent was quite so broad, all flat Yorkshire vowels, while her voice had sounded almost little-girl-like to her ears. She took a sip of her wine, hiding behind the glass for a moment, waiting for her internal cringe to subside.

‘Any idea yet as to who contacted the news station?' asked Lark. She even managed to have an ethereal air about her in her winter clothes of a loosely knitted pixie dress in fading shades of purple. It was shot with sparkly thread and trimmed with shiny beads that glittered in the firelight. Florrie thought it lent her friend a fairy-like quality.

‘Nope, none. No one's owned up to it yet.' She set her glass on the table. She'd trawled her mind several times, going through everyone she considered likely to do such a thing, each time drawing a blank.

‘And much as I hate to drag the tone down, dare I ask, how's the situation with Ed's parents? Has he heard any more?' asked Maggie. Florrie had sent her friends a text earlier in the week briefly telling them about the phone call from Peter Harte, saying that she'd elaborate further when they were all together on Friday.

‘Yeah, what's happening with them?' asked Stella, tapping her foot in time to the jaunty tune the band had struck up.

Florrie puffed out her cheeks and blew out a slow breath as the feelings generated by the phone call resurfaced. ‘Well – I've already told Mags briefly about this, so forgive me for repeating myself, Maggie – Ed's dad rang in the early hours of Monday morning and launched straight into a rant – no surprises there, I know. Anyroad, I couldn't make out everything that was being said, but his tone sounded really aggressive.' Her stomach churned at the memory. ‘He's such an angry man. I've no idea where he gets it from, he's nothing like Mr and Mrs H. And I don't know why he thinks it's okay to talk to Ed that way.'

‘He's a bully,' said Jasmine, blunt as ever. ‘Plain and simple.'

‘I have to agree,' said Stella. ‘So, what's the miserable old toad wanting from Ed this time?'

‘The weird thing is, I'm not really sure. From the little Ed's told me, I actually don't think he's any the wiser himself – his Dad just seemed to get tied up in knots with his anger.' Much as she trusted her friends to be discreet, she didn't feel it was right to share that she'd heard Peter Harte mention Jean Davenport's name. ‘But what I do know, is that Ed's reluctant to speak to him to see if he can get to the bottom of it, said it's just how his dad gets sometimes. It's beginning to feel like he's adopting his old attitude of "if I ignore it, it'll go away".'

‘Which isn't remotely helpful,' said Stella.

‘Tell me about it,' Florrie said, despondently.

‘Has his dad called since?' asked Lark, her eyes gentle with sympathy.

Florrie nodded. ‘Yeah, but Ed ignores him, then turns his phone off once we're at home.' She hesitated for a moment, deliberating whether to mention Ed's sudden interest in the attic. She was conscious of not wanting to taint their view of him, or appear to be painting him in a bad light. Telling herself they were decent women who knew her well and wouldn't think either of those things, she said, ‘He's been rooting around the attic, too.'

‘What d'you mean, rooting around?' asked Jasmine, her top lip hitched in puzzlement.

‘It's as if he's very keen to find something, but acts all innocent when I ask if I can help.'

‘And you think it's linked to his dad's phone call?' said Stella.

‘I honestly don't know.' Florrie glanced between them, taking in their perplexed expressions. Expressing it out loud made her suspicions sound small and, dare she say, petty? ‘Hey, listen, I'm sure it's nothing, it's probably just me overthinking as usual. Ignore me. He keeps all his art stuff up there along with a load of other paraphernalia.'

‘I'm sure it's nothing, flower. It's easy to start heading off down a rabbit hole of worries once you start paying stuff like that too much attention. It's probably just the call from his dad that's unsettled you, made you start thinking something's wrong when it's not,' said Maggie.

‘I agree,' said Lark.

‘Yeah, you're right.' Florrie smiled, their words offering the reassurance she needed.

‘On a different subject,' said Jasmine, before taking a quick sip of her wine, ‘has anyone noticed how Dodgy Dick seems to have increased his presence in town, floating around like he owns the place?'

Lark nodded. ‘He was loitering around Nate's shop the other day.'

‘And we had Dodgy Dick and his equally dodgy wife, Wendy, sniffing round the bookshop the other night,' said Florrie, wondering why the shifty duo would be showing an interest in Nate's property.

‘No way?' said Jasmine.

Florrie nodded. ‘'Fraid so. In fact, Wendy has designs on turning the bookshop into a hair and beauty salon, offering "exclusive" services.' The reminder sent panic rushing through her.

Maggie's brow furrowed. ‘Why the heck would she want to do that? I mean, it's not as if the town doesn't have enough hair salons already, not to mention beauticians. She must've been winding you up – surely she wasn't serious?'

Florrie gave a weary shrug. ‘I'm not sure. The whole encounter with them was weird. They created a really horrible atmosphere, I couldn't wait for them to leave. I reckon it was part of a renewed attempt at intimidation and, much as I hate to admit it, they did a pretty good job. Luckily, Ed came downstairs and told them in no uncertain terms we weren't selling, and that we had plans for the bookshop's future.' That she needed to share Ed's tearoom idea with her friends fleeted through her mind. No doubt Lark would already know with Nate having the staircase, but Lark was the soul of discretion and Florrie doubted she'd have shared it with the others.

‘And how did that go down?' asked Stella, her tone suggesting she already had a good idea.

‘Not great, as I expect you can imagine. In fact, he said he'd give us until the New Year to think about it.'

‘And then what?' asked Lark, looking alarmed.

‘I don't know, but I think he left us a warning.' She paused, drawing in a deep breath before telling them about the trashing of the outdoor Christmas tree and wreath, and how the shop windows had been egged.

‘ What ?' Stella's eyebrows shot up.

‘No!' Maggie's hand flew to her mouth, while Lark gasped.

‘What a hideous man!' said Jasmine.

‘Do you really think he was behind it?' asked Maggie.

‘Much as I hate to admit it to myself, I can't think of any other explanation. We were the only shop targeted in such a way. It's too much of a coincidence.'

‘Sounds like classic Dodgy Dick.' Maggie pulled a regretful face.

‘I'm afraid it does, flower.' Jasmine reached over and squeezed Florrie's hand.

‘Has anything else happened?' asked Stella, her tone serious.

Florrie shook her head. ‘No, thank goodness.'

‘Oh, Florrie, I'm so sorry this has started up again for you,' Lark said gently, her bracelets jangling as she rubbed her hand up and down Florrie's arm.

‘Me too. Just don't forget you're not on your own, you've got us lot here to stick up for you, if that puffed-up little weasel starts giving you any hassle. We're just a phone call away. We'll see Dodgy Dick and his equally dodgy wife off for you,' Jasmine said fiercely, raising a smile from Florrie.

‘And he really doesn't want to mess with our Jazz,' Maggie said with a giggle, setting them all off. ‘Remember when she tore a strip off that lad who'd been two-timing Lark?'

‘Ouch! How could we forget?' Stella winced. ‘I reckon his lugs'll still be ringing with it. What was that final insult you hurled at him, Jazz? A pathetic little knobhead?—'

‘—with a penis the size of a hamster's,' the others chorused, before collapsing into a fit of raucous laughter.

‘Oh my days! He was ten times the size of Jazz. His face was a picture, looking down at her!' Maggie could barely speak for laughing.

Stella wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. ‘On a serious note, and like Jasmine said, don't forget you can call on us anytime you need help. Day or night, we're here for you, Florrie.'

‘Too right we are,' said Lark, nodding vigorously.

‘Aww, thanks, lasses. You're the best.' Florrie glanced around to see four earnest faces looking back at her. Her heart filled with love for them. Not for the first time did she feel blessed to be a part of such a loyal and supportive group of friends. ‘I just wanted to let you know what was going on, but I've taken up enough of the evening and I didn't intend to bring the mood down. Though remind me to tell you all about the exciting plans we have for the bookshop later on, but I'm not going to utter another word about myself until you've all had a chance to share what you've been up to.'

‘Sounds intriguing. And you haven't brought the mood down at all.' Stella smiled at her. ‘You've been there for us when we needed you, my recent situation with my errant father being a prime example.'

‘And for me with that horrendous cousin of mine, and all the hassle she brought with her.' Maggie shook her head disdainfully at the memory. Her cousin Robyn had turned up out of the blue and managed to wangle her way into their lives. It hadn't taken long for her to put a huge strain on Maggie and Bear's marriage, with her manipulative and deceitful ways. At one point, they thought she'd never leave. When she eventually did, she'd left a cloud of drama in her wake that had almost broken Maggie.

‘So, how's the trial going, Stells?' Florrie asked, keen to direct the focus on someone else. ‘Sounds like you were having a right scrap with that defence barrister you were against.' Stella was a well-respected barrister who specialised in serious crime. When the friends were at The Cellar earlier in the week, she'd mentioned that she was prosecuting a particularly vicious assault trial against counsel who believed every client he defended was innocent, no matter how heinous the crime they were charged with. He'd gained a reputation at the bar for relentlessly attempting to wear his opponents down in the hope they'd accept a lesser plea. Stella never backed down which frustrated him – and all her opposing counsel – no end.

Stella reached for the bottle of wine, topping up all but Maggie's glass. ‘As far as Rory Sinclair is concerned, he fights his corner. I respect him for that. Though he wasn't very happy when the jury came back with a guilty verdict for his client. The fact that it was unanimous on all counts made the victory extra sweet. That, and the knowledge a dangerous criminal has been locked up and the streets are safer for it.'

‘Well done, Stells,' said Florrie. She admired her friend for how she could tackle such horrific cases and pack them away, not letting them intrude on her personal life. It took a strong person to be able to do that, she thought.

‘And has he got over his disappointment at you being all loved up with Alex?' asked Jasmine, flashing her a cheeky grin.

‘Not so sure disappointment's the right word, but he's given up asking me out for dinner.' Stella smiled back at her.

Stella had been resolutely single and had never been in love until she'd met Alex Bainbridge earlier in the year. Before then, Stella's approach to dating had meant for some entertaining stories of a Friday evening, as she'd shared details of her latest dalliances. But Florrie and the others had always thought there'd be someone who'd capture Stella's heart when she least expected it. Which is exactly what had happened.

Just then, the pub door opened and an icy breeze whooshed in. The friends turned to see Ando Taylor holding it open as if waiting for someone to come through. Whoever it was evidently wasn't in a hurry.

‘Brrr! Bloomin' 'eck, get that door shut!' Jasmine shivered.

‘Jeez, it's freezing.' Lark frowned, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

‘Why would you keep the door open like that?' Florrie asked.

‘I think common sense has clearly escaped him this evening,' said Stella as a round of complaints went up from the other customers. Still, Ando seemed oblivious.

Eventually craggy-faced local fisherman Lobster Harry rolled in wearing a gap-toothed smile and a light dusting of snow on his well-worn mariner's hat.

‘Take your time, why don't you, Harry?' Maggie rolled her eyes as the door slammed shut and the pair ambled their way over to the bar.

Jasmine had just started telling them about the latest problems with her ex-in-laws, who appeared to take great pleasure in making life difficult for her, when Ando appeared by their table. Florrie was relieved to see he wasn't worse for drink as he often was by this time of the evening, having propped up the bar for several hours.

‘All right, lasses?' he asked, resting his hand on the back of Stella's chair. She gave a small lift of her eyebrow. In his mid-forties, he had a weather-beaten face that belied his usual youthful garb of battered leather jacket, slashed jeans and a baseball cap worn back-to-front, covering his straggly bleach-blond ponytail.

‘Aren't you freezing in those jeans?' Jasmine asked, frowning. ‘Surely they won't be any use at keeping the cold out. I feel nithered just looking at them.'

‘I don't feel the cold, like,' he said, with a hint of a swagger.

Florrie expected him to break into a smile, or a laugh to show he was joking, and was surprised when he didn't.

‘Just as well.' Jasmine didn't appear to be impressed.

‘Aye, it is.' He flicked his limp ponytail over his shoulder. ‘Anyroad, I thought I should warn you it's snowing out there so it might be a good idea to keep an eye on the weather.'

‘Thanks, Ando, that's kind of you to let us know.' Lark smiled up at him.

‘It is, thanks, Ando.' Florrie smiled, too. He may be a bit of an overgrown daft lad sometimes, but he had a good heart.

‘You doing all right, Maggie?' he asked, shuffling from foot to foot.

‘I'm fine and dandy, thanks, Ando.' She smiled. He'd made a habit of checking she was okay since he'd witnessed a car accident she'd been in during the early stages of her pregnancy. He'd acted quickly, calling for an ambulance and contacting Florrie and Ed. The friends' respect for him had grown considerably since that time, despite his tendency to act the goon when he'd had a few pints of Micklewick Magic.

‘Cool.' He gave her a bashful smile.

Just then Immy, one of the waitresses, hurried over and threw a couple of logs onto the fire, sending sparks dancing up the chimney and the sweet smell of woodsmoke into the air. She turned, treating Jasmine to a knowing smile, before heading back towards the bar.

‘Aye, well, no probs.' Ando loitered a moment longer as if toying with the idea of saying something else. The friends all regarded him with interest. ‘I was just gonna say, Jazz, that if you need walking home, I'd be happy to take you back, like. Thought we could maybe share a bottle of wine at your place, if you know what I mean?' He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. ‘I've got one going spare back home, won it in a raffle. S'only cheap plonk, but I reckon it'll be better than my home brew – you have no idea what that did to my guts last Friday.' He gave a throaty laugh.

Jasmine listened, an array of horrified emotions crossing her face. Florrie daren't make eye contact with the others for fear of bursting out laughing.

‘Erm, Ando, I?—'

Jasmine was cut off by her admirer. ‘We could stop off at my place and pick it up. I got a massive bag of crisps, an' all – a couple of weeks past their sell-by date, but the booze should mask the stale taste. And I've got half a jar of pickled eggs that need eating up, which I opened last Christmas. It'd be a shame for 'em to go to waste.'

Hearing Maggie stifle a snort, Florrie pressed her lips together, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on Jasmine, whose expression had morphed to one of utter mortification at mention of the eggs.

‘Er, much as I appreciate your offer, Ando, I think I'll pass, thanks.' Jasmine forced a smile. Every week Ando propositioned her for a date and every week she turned him down.

‘Aye, right, well. Fair enough.' He went to walk away but clearly had second thoughts. He turned and said, ‘I'll just be at the bar if you change your mind. I reckon it'll be the best offer you get tonight.' With that he gave her a wink and sauntered his way back to the bar.

‘Did I just hear right?' Jasmine glanced around at her friends who all collapsed into a fit of the giggles. ‘How does he know I won't get a better offer, cheeky so-and-so? I can't imagine anything worse than spending an evening with him and his cheap bottle of plonk that's no doubt been doing the rounds with all the local raffles. It'll be one that no one wants and keeps getting donated over and over again, more like vinegar than wine.'

‘It'll go well with the pickled eggs, then, Jazz.' Maggie could barely speak for laughing.

‘Don't forget the stale crisps,' said Stella.

‘Good point, and there's his home brew,' added Florrie.

‘Ugh! Don't go there.' Jasmine shook her head, her top lip curling in distaste. ‘And, please, no one mention what he said it did to his guts. I don't even want to think about that!'

‘Yep, he sure knows how to treat a lady,' Stella said, dryly.

‘Ahh, bless him,' said Lark, tender-hearted as ever. ‘He means well, we shouldn't laugh at him.'

‘You're right, he does,' agreed Maggie. ‘But someone should have a word about his approach. Maybe Alex could give him a few tips, Stells?' She chuckled.

‘Where would he start?' said Stella.

‘Why, though?' Jasmine raised her palms in question, her eyes sweeping around the table. ‘Why me? What is it about me that says my idea of a date with a bloke is a night in, stuffing my face with past-their-best pickled eggs and swigging the remnants of his home brew, which if I remember rightly, he calls "Gut Rot". Please , one of you tell me, I'm dying to know.' She looked at them imploringly, before joining in with their laughter. ‘And I'm not having a pop at Ando here, I'm just trying to get my head around why he thinks I'd find that appealing.'

‘To be honest, Jazz, I don't think he appreciates how awful his offer sounds. I get the impression he just says the first thing that comes into his head, hoping that it'll tempt you or that his persistence will eventually wear you down. He gets full marks for trying.'

‘Aye, well, I wish he flippin' wouldn't keep trying. I don't have the time or the inclination for a fella in my life. The kids are my priority.' Jasmine sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘Do you think he's ever going to get the message?'

‘Doesn't look like it'll be any time soon, flower,' said Florrie.

‘Anyroad, it's not that long since he had the hots for you. How come he's moved on to me?'

‘He seemed to switch his affections once Ed arrived,' Florrie said, with a shrug. It was true, he'd regularly propositioned her – though, thankfully, not with the culinary horrors he was using to tempt Jasmine – asking her out on dates. But as soon as Ed had arrived on the scene and they'd become an item, Ando had backed off.

‘Pfft.' Jasmine puffed out a frustrated sigh. ‘Well, there's no way I'm going to hook up with a bloke just to put Ando off the scent. I'll just keep turning him down and hope he finally gets the message.'

‘I feel sorry for him. He has a good heart if you look through all the bravado and the daft things he comes out with when he's had a drink,' Lark said kindly.

‘I hope you're not trying to suggest I take him up on his offer, Lark!' Jasmine shot her a horrified look.

‘Oh, no, not at all! That's not what I meant. I just think if he had someone to love him, he'd behave differently, that's all.'

‘From what I can gather, he's never seemed keen on getting tied down,' said Maggie.

‘Maybe he hasn't found the right woman, yet. I'm sure there's somebody out there who's perfect for him,' said Lark, her gaze drifting off into the middle distance.

‘Aye, well, don't look at me,' said Jasmine, chuckling.

‘On that note, I reckon we should get our food ordered,' said Maggie.

‘Good plan,' said Jasmine, wearing an expression of relief.

‘In that case, I'll go and place our order at the bar, and grab us another bottle of wine while I'm there. Snow or no snow, I intend to enjoy myself tonight. It's been a full-on week.' Stella pushed herself up and strode over to the bar in a waft of crisp perfume. She made for a striking image with her long legs and high-heeled boots, exuding an air of confidence, turning heads as she went.