Chapter 6

SIX

The walk along the top prom to the bookshop that morning could only be described as bracing. Stretched out above the town was a vast expanse of cornflower-blue sky, white clouds scudding along on the brisk breeze. Seagulls called as they dipped and dived, skimming over the waves. Florrie and Ed strode forth at a vigorous pace, Gerty trotting along in her familiar jaunty way, tail swishing, nose twitching as it was assaulted by myriad interesting smells. They nodded at the familiar faces they encountered, dog walkers, people making their way to work, all wrapped up well against the wintry weather. Cyclists whizzed along the cycle lane in a whir of wheels. A particularly vocal herring gull was perched on the chimney pot of one of the imposing Victorian houses that enjoyed spectacular views of the bay, screeching for all it was worth, its cries carried off by the wind. The sea to the left looked bitterly cold, the frothy white breakers crashing on the shoreline sending foam splashing into the air. The usual group of surfers was loitering by the pier, bobbing in and out of the water, their shiny black wetsuits giving the appearance of a pod of seals.

Florrie and Ed followed the curve of the road, bringing the commanding line of cliffs on the opposite side of town into view. Standing proud was the mighty Thorncliffe, its vast hulk a powerful presence on the coastline. From here it was easy to make out the quaint, whitewashed Clifftop Cottage that was home to Maggie and Bear. It sat within the curtilage of Thorncliffe Farm, to which the cliff had given its name, and its patchwork sprawl of fields sparkled with frost. Nestled below was the cluster of characterful cottages where Micklewick Bay had its origins. The higgledy-piggledy houses clung onto the cliffside like a cluster of limpets, their red-pantile rooftops glowing in the pale, winter sun. Here the meandering network of alleyways and snickets had a collection of names that tickled the tourists, amongst which was Micklemackle Yard, Herring Lass Row, Gabblewickgate and Blatherin Alley.

Standing before these cobbled streets was The Jolly Sailors pub facing bravely out to sea where it hunkered down against the elements. It had sat there stoically for several centuries, withstanding all that the salt-laden sea air and brooding high spring tides could throw at it. The hostelry was a favourite haunt of Florrie and her close group of friends, particularly so on a Friday evening. It had been their meeting place for years, where they'd indulge in the landlady Mandy's famously hearty portions of fish and chips and a good old catch-up, sharing what had gone on in their week, offering words of comfort and support where needed over a bottle or two of wine and a good old belly laugh.

Gerty paused at a wooden bench, its pale wood and shiny brass plaque betraying its newness. The Labrador looked up at them with enquiring amber eyes – she'd already picked up on their new routine.

‘Good lass.' Ed patted her head and she wagged her tail.

Florrie's eyes scanned over the newly inscribed plaque that was fixed to the backrest of the seat, her heart squeezing.

Dedicated to the memory of Dinah and Bernard Harte of The Happy Hartes Bookshop, who loved this view.

It still stung that they'd both gone, but Florrie and Ed had agreed that funding a bench here on the prom, looking out to sea, would be the perfect way to commemorate them.

No words were exchanged as Florrie and Ed sat down, lost in their own thoughts, his leg pressing against hers as they gazed out at the view. A couple of ro-ro ferries in the distance punctuated the undulating dark blue of the North Sea, gulls dipping and diving and skimming over the waves. An unforgiving wind was blowing in off the sea, whipping around the couple and nipping at their cheeks. It was only a matter of minutes before the cold of the bench started seeping through Florrie's duffle coat. She tucked her chin deeper into her scarf and hugged her arms around herself.

Ed gave a sigh. ‘I could never tire of looking out at this.'

‘Yeah, me neither. I still get a thrill every time I look at it – it's different every day.'

‘I can see why my grandparents loved it so much.'

Florrie inhaled slowly, the chilly air filling her chest. ‘Me too.' She felt a wave of sadness rise up through her as she recalled how Mr H used to push his wife along the prom in her wheelchair, stopping here so they could take a moment and sip tea from a flask while they savoured the view. Mrs H had suffered a stroke a couple of years before Mr H had died. It had affected her mobility, but her husband had been determined that nothing was going to stop her from enjoying her daily venture along the top prom and glimpse of her beloved Thorncliffe. Florrie and Ed had thought it fitting to fund a bench here in their memory and, since its installation, they'd taken to stopping at it for a few minutes each morning.

‘Here's where I feel closest to my grandad,' Ed said, pushing his wind-tousled hair off his face before wrapping his arm around Florrie. ‘I know the bookshop would be the most likely place, but it's here, with this amazing panorama that he used to enthuse about all the time, where I really feel he's near.'

‘I get that.'

‘We've picked the perfect spot for a bench in his memory – my grandmother's, too.'

Florrie nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. ‘You're right. They'd both be thrilled with it. This view really touched him, he used to say it was almost a part of him, spoke about it all the time.' She cast her gaze along the vista that stretched out before her, the silhouettes of industry looming way along to the left of the coastline, sweeping along the broad stretch of golden sand, all the way up to the cliffs. It really was breathtaking and easy to see why it had been so popular with wealthy Victorian holidaymakers, and why so many had built their grand homes in the town. In fact, the "new" part of town on this side of Skitey Bank was built on the money generated by the very industry that still powered ahead further up the coast. ‘I feel your grandad's presence here, too.' The happy thought prompted a smile. Her old boss had made a huge impact on her life in so many positive ways, as had his wife. If it hadn't been for him, she'd never have got to meet Ed; she'd never have found out how a proper, all-encompassing love felt, which was nothing like the lukewarm version she'd had with Graham. She glanced upwards, her smile widening. Thank you, Mr H.

Ed clapped his hands on his knees, pulling her back into the moment. ‘Right, I don't know about you but I'm in danger of freezing to the spot here. I reckon we need to get cracking so we get warmed through by the time the bookshop opens.' He got to his feet, pulling up the collar of his coat, then held out his hand to Florrie.

‘I'm not going to argue with that.' She grinned up at him, slipping her gloved hand into his. The biting wind had started to make her eyes water and she could barely feel her fingers. The thought of wrapping them around a steaming mug of tea when they got to the bookshop was most appealing.

‘Come on, best foot forward,' Ed said, slipping her arm through his, setting the pace as he strode ahead.

Before long they reached the top of Skitey Bank that twisted and turned its way down to the bottom prom and the beach. Taking advantage of a gap in the traffic, they hurried across to the other side, passing the derelict shell of the once magnificent Micklewick Majestic Hotel that occupied the end of a block with views out to sea. It had been on the market for a considerable amount of time, with rumours aplenty as to why it hadn't sold, who was in the bidding for it and tales of what had become of its previous owner. In that time, it had fallen further into disrepair and Mother Nature had taken over, weeds self-seeding with abandon here, there and everywhere. The guttering was hanging off in places, water cascading down the former hotel's walls when it rained. Florrie dreaded to think what another winter would do to the building.

Soon, she was unlocking the door of the bookshop, the mouth-watering aroma of freshly baked Christmas cakes wafting up from the bakery two doors down. As soon as she stepped into the warmth her nose started tingling and her glasses steamed up.

‘First things first,' she said, removing her glasses and wiping them with a tissue she'd fished from her pocket, ‘I'm going to stick the kettle on. I won't be able lift a finger – literally, they're frozen! – until I have a hot mug of tea inside me and I've properly thawed out.'

Ed looked at her and laughed. ‘You usually can't lift a finger unless you've had a hot mug of tea inside you whether they're frozen or not.'

‘Fair point.' Florrie giggled as she popped her glasses back on and began unwinding her scarf.

Satisfied that Ed was busying himself at the front of the shop, Florrie ensconced herself in the small kitchen. She hurriedly filled the kettle, then fished her phone from her bag. She fired off a quick text to her friends, sharing her idea for The Happy Christmas Memory Project, saying how she'd love them to be involved and that any suggestions would be gratefully received.

It was Lark who replied first.

Ooh! Love it!! Very happy to be involved. I'll get my thinking cap on! xxx

Maggie's text arrived hot on her heels.

Count us in – Baby Marsay's arrival permitting! How about ice skating over at Middleton-le-Moors? I can eat cake it was something she'd only done a couple of times herself, but the rink at Middleton sounded fun, especially if they could nip into the pub afterwards. It was definitely a contender, especially with the stylishly characterful market town decked out in its festive finery. A frisson of excitement ran through her. It hadn't taken long to get her Happy Christmas Memory Project underway.

Stella's reply landed just as Florrie was filling the teapot with hot water.

Brilliant idea! Danskelfe Castle has lots of Christmas events. Sure I saw mention of sleigh rides. Think you have to book in advance. Count me in on anything! Sx

‘Hmm. Sleigh rides?' Florrie tapped her finger against her mouth. Danskelfe Castle was in a stunning location, perched on a precipitous crag over on the moors and set in extensive grounds. Stella's mum Alice had paid it a visit a couple of months ago with her partner Rhys. The pair had returned singing its praises.

Florrie's imagination started running wild, picturing herself and Ed hurtling around the castle's beautiful grounds in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. She chuckled at herself for getting carried away. ‘It's hardly likely to be reindeer, Florrie!' she said softly as she hurriedly tapped "Danskelfe Castle" into the search bar on her phone. But reindeer or not, it sounded like an ideal contender for The Happy Christmas Memory Project and she was keen to learn more.

Her heart lifted as the website filled the screen; it looked glossy and professional. She clicked on the "Christmas" tab, her eyes dancing over the array of events and experiences on offer, including the sleigh rides Stella had mentioned – pulled by three horses. Florrie zoomed in on the details. Each "sleigh"– which was a festively decorated open carriage complete with roof, and an achingly nostalgic Christmas air – had seating for twelve people and ran at multiple intervals throughout the day starting from ten a.m. ‘Oh, wow!' With excitement rushing through her, thoughts started blooming in her mind. Would their group of friends be interested in joining them? she wondered. There were enough of them to just about fill a whole sleigh ride, and their presence would make the experience even more memorable for Ed, of that she was sure. For all of them, too, for that matter.

She hurriedly scanned the available dates, one eye on the door, willing Ed not to venture down there, curious as to what she was up to. Her heart began to sink as she scrolled through the slots, the words "Fully booked", "Fully booked", "Fully booked" appearing as if on a loop. ‘Oh, no!' She could feel her excitement slowly ebb away. She'd left it too late. Of course she had! Sleigh rides at Danskelfe Castle were bound to be a popular attraction.

Despondently, she continued to scroll, the odd single space showing up here and there. She'd almost lost hope when… ‘Oh!' She stopped, doing a double-take as her eyes alighted on a completely empty sleigh for Sunday the seventeenth of December at three fifteen p.m., the final slot of the day. She blinked, checking it again to make sure she'd read right. Her heart gave a happy leap. She had! There was a whole sleigh completely empty! ‘Talk about lucky,' she said, her insides dancing – she could hear Lark's voice in her mind, telling her it was meant to be.

With each sleigh ride taking approximately half an hour, the timing couldn't be better; the level of light would be perfect – not too dark, but sufficiently dusk and cosy for them to appreciate the twinkly lights shown in the website's photos that lit the way to and from the castle's courtyard. Her pulse started galloping. This was perfect for inclusion in The Happy Christmas Memory Project, but she needed to make a decision quickly before the seats were snapped up by someone else, which they invariably would be if she left it too long.

‘Right, no time like the present.' Florrie seized the moment, and another round of hastily tapped out texts to her friends followed. Last on the list was Jasmine. Florrie's fingers paused over her number as she pondered over the wording of the message. She was reluctant to put her friend under any extra financial pressure; there was no getting away from it, the sleigh rides were expensive, though not extortionate like some she'd heard of. She knew Jasmine struggled to afford any extras at this time of year and she didn't want to make her feel awkward, or that she'd have to miss out on something the rest of them were all taking part in. She also knew the suggestion of her covering the cost of her friend's ticket ran the risk of hurting Jasmine's pride, which was the last thing Florrie wanted. She needed to handle this carefully.

Florrie's mind moved quickly, searching for a solution that would mean she wouldn't have to put Jasmine on the spot. She desperately wanted Jazz to be a part of the experience (the thought of her missing out for financial reasons didn't feel right) – and there was enough room for the kids, which though it was even better, added to the dilemma. In the next second, an idea lit up in her mind. The group of friends clubbed together to buy one another Christmas presents each year, and they hadn't organised Jasmine's yet as they'd been struggling to agree on what to get her – she was the trickiest of the friends to buy for, not being one for the usual toiletries and perfume. A ticket for the sleigh ride would be perfect! On top of that, getting tickets for Zak and Chloe would solve the problem of what to get them for Christmas, too; she'd be happy to cover the cost of those if the others had already organised their gifts for the kids.

A wave of relief and happiness washed over Florrie simultaneously and she tapped out a text to Jasmine, simply asking her to keep the date free for herself and the kids, saying she'd explain later. As an afterthought, she added that they should all wear Christmas jumpers. She knew her friends well enough to know she didn't need to run it by them before booking the tickets; they'd be of the same mind as her and more than happy to go with her suggestion.

While she'd been dithering over what to do about Jasmine, the others had responded with an assortment of enthusiastic texts and celebratory festive emojis. All were eager to come, asking for partners to be included – Nate was apparently keen to join as Lark's "friend". It made Florrie chuckle. She wondered if poor old Nate was ever going to escape from the "friend zone". In the next moment a text pinged from Jasmine.

Have put it on the calendar! Most mysterious!! Jxx

Buzzing with happiness, and with no time to lose, Florrie fished in her bag for her purse, hoping with all her might that no one else had snapped up the places in the meantime. She couldn't tap in her details quick enough, her pulse jumping as the order went through. Tucking her purse away before Ed spotted it and wondered what she was up to, she fired off a quick text to Maggie, Stella and Lark, explaining briefly how she'd got Jasmine and the kids' Christmas presents sorted but asking them to keep it under wraps for now.

Florrie quickly poured the tea then picked up the mugs and headed out of the kitchen, her heart pounding with happiness. It was impossible to stop the smile that was spreading across her face as she made her way back to the front of the shop. The Happy Christmas Memory Project was underway! It was going to take some willpower to keep this surprise to herself till the moment was right.

She found Ed leaning over his laptop at the counter, deep in concentration, his fringe flopping forward. The creak of the floorboards alerted him to Florrie's return. He looked up, brushing his hair off his face. ‘I was just about to send a search party out.' His eyebrows quirked as he spotted her expression, a grin hitching up the corners of his mouth. ‘You're looking rather pleased with yourself.'

‘Just got sidetracked with a few texts from the lasses.' She beamed at him, doing all she could to rein in the excitement that was currently fizzing away inside her. Much as she couldn't wait to tell him about the sleigh ride, she wanted to print off the tickets, tuck them into a Christmas card and present them to him that way.

‘Well, from the way you're smiling, it looks as though they've been entertaining.'

‘Just a bit.' She chuckled, setting the mugs down on the counter.

Oh, if only you knew!