Page 18 of Christmas at the Little Bookshop by the Sea

‘Aye, it would,’ agreed Bear.

‘Especially with the way you’d tell it,’ Paula added. She’d been a huge fan of Jack’s for years, and her bookcase was bulging with everything he’d had published.

‘So would you use it as inspiration for a novel?’ asked Alex. ‘Or would it be a straightforward autobiography, with you actually tellingyourstory?’

‘Aye, well, see, that’s the reason I’m bringing it up now. They want an autobiography, for me to tellmystory, warts and all.’ His eyes dropped to his pint; having a modest nature, he was clearly embarrassed by this. ‘Which would mean I’d have to mention Florrie and Ed, and The Happy Hartes Bookshop.’ He took a moment, his eyes flicking between the couple. ‘I didn’t know how you’d feel about that, kind of being pushed into the spotlight, as it were – if anyone was interested enough in buying a book where I blether on about myself, that is. As my agent pointed out, it’s not as if I’ve kept my background a secret. Folk know I was adopted, and I’d come to Micklewick Bay in search of my birth family. The autobiography would obviously go into greater detail, clear up any rumours or duff information that’s floating around. And it’s common knowledge I do readings at the bookshop, so folk know of that connection. But if you’d rather I didn’t, then I’d respect your wishes.’

Florrie didn’t miss a beat. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Jack, I think yours and Jean’s story is such a special one, it really should be shared. I don’t doubt for a second your fans would love to read about it –I’dlove to read about it from your perspective,’ she said. ‘And I’d be absolutely fine with you mentioning me and the bookshop. Wouldn’t you, Ed?’ She glanced up at him, expecting to see him smiling, but instead she found an expression that she could swear bordered on hesitant, anxious, even.

‘Oh, me too,’ said Paula, who clearly hadn’t picked up on Ed’s reaction.

‘Yeah, same here,’ said Leah. ‘I reckon they’d be clamouring for it.’

Hoping Jack hadn’t detected Ed’s sudden change in demeanour, Florrie injected her voice with a generous dash of enthusiasm and said, ‘Ooh, Jack, how wonderful would it be if you could do a reading of your autobiography for the bookshop? If you wouldn’t mind, that is?’

Jack’s face broke out into a broad smile, and he gave one of his trademark throaty laughs, apparently oblivious to whatever was troubling Ed. ‘It’d be my pleasure, lass.’ He raised his pint to her. ‘Cheers to that.’

‘Aye, and cheers to a bloomin’ brilliant night, and another one to look forward to by all accounts,’ said Nate, raising his pint of Micklewick Mellow. They all followed suit – including Ed, who, much to Florrie’s relief, had resurrected his smile – a chorus of “cheers” ringing out.

It was while Jack was elaborating on his autobiography that the reason for Ed’s sudden change of mood dawned on Florrie: Jean Davenport. She couldn’t shake the feeling it had something to do with his father mentioning her friend’s name in the phone call. Whatever it was, she was determined to find out, though itwasn’t going to be easy with Ed’s habit of clamming up. She only hoped Jean wouldn’t end up hurt as a result.

ELEVEN

TUESDAY 5TH DECEMBER

Florrie and Ed, together with Lark and Nate, were the last of their group still lingering at The Cellar. The others had been keen to take Bear up on his offer of a lift to their respective homes in the Land Rover, especially since the north easterly wind had upped the ante, adding a biting edge to the cold.

Florrie had been glad of the time to unwind after the hectic build-up to the unveiling of the windows and Jack’s reading and, tired as she was, she wasn’t in a rush to head off. There’d still be time to give Ed the little gift she’d got him when they got back home. Sitting beside him in the booth, she relaxed into him, his arm stretched out on the back of the bench behind her. He appeared to have put his odd reaction to Jack’s proposed autobiography behind him, but it had loitered at the back of Florrie’s mind, nudging her to follow it up. Despite that, she still managed to enjoy the rest of the evening, Lark and Nate being laid-back, easy company.

They’d been listening with interest as Nate described some of the fascinating items he’d encountered in his job upcycling and restoring furniture. He had a good eye and the ability to see potential in even the most dilapidated piece of furniture, sourcing new stock from a variety of places. On top of that, hisprices were reasonable, ensuring turnover was quick. Thanks to this winning combination, his business was beginning to outgrow the little shop he occupied on Endeavour Street. Indeed, Florrie had sourced many of the items that furnished Samphire Cottage from Nate, including the vintage pine dresser in her kitchen and the small console table that sat below the window in the living room, not to mention a variety of bookshelves.

From the conversation that had followed once Florrie and Ed were relaxing in the kitchen at home, Nate had evidently set Ed’s mind whirring.

Ed took a slow sip of his tea, before carefully setting his mug down on the kitchen table. The pair were looking shattered after their hectic day with the window reveal and Jack’s reading. He glanced over at Florrie. ‘So, I’ve been thinking about the future of the bookshop.’

Uh-oh.Florrie’s heart nose-dived all the way down to her fluffy slippers as her heart simultaneously lurched up to her throat. Disconcertingly, his response to Jack’s autobiography flashed through her mind. ‘What do you mean?’ She searched his face, hoping to find a clue in his expression, relieved so see a pair of happy eyes looking back at her. It clearly didn’t involve anything horrendous, like handing it over to his parents or selling it to Dodgy Dick.

‘Well…’ A smile was hitching up the corners of his mouth. ‘I’ve been thinking of a way around it for a while, but tonight’s conversation with Nate provided what could be the perfect solution.’

‘The perfect solution to what?’ She couldn’t help but smile back as puzzled thoughts started capering around her mind.

‘So, you know he mentioned how he’d recently bought a staircase, the one that had been salvaged from Walker’s at the bottom of the square?’

‘Yes,’ she said slowly; she couldn’t even begin to imagine where the heck this was going.

‘It got me thinking…’ He grinned at her.

‘Thinking what?’ Her heart lifted at the happiness shining in his eyes.

He took another slow sip of his tea.

‘Argh! This is torture! You’ve got to tell me! The suspense is too much,’ Florrie said. Despite her protestations, she found herself giggling.

Ed laughed, his blue eyes crinkling in the way that made her heart flutter. ‘You know how you said your dream was to have a tearoom at the bookshop but didn’t know how we could get it to work with the layout and space we’ve got?’

Oh my days! This is exciting!‘Yes, but how come the conversation with Nate got you thinking about that?’

‘That’s where the staircase comes in.’

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