Page 55 of Christmas at the Little Bookshop by the Sea

‘How about torture by tickling your feet?’ Ed raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Would that get a straight answer out of you?’

‘Don’t you dare!’ She chuckled, tucking her slipper-clad feet under her chair and well out of his reach, the awkwardness of moments earlier floating away.Time to move on to a different subject!She reached for the teapot, topping up their tea. ‘I’m still getting my head around Jean and Jack’s offer. I keep thinking it must be a dream. I mean, it’s been a bonkers week, what with everything that’s happened. Talk about being one of wild contrasts.’

‘You’re not wrong there.’ Ed picked up his knife and started buttering another slice of toast. ‘At least we’ve got tomorrow to devote to properly thinking their proposal through.’

The words, ‘Not quite all of tomorrow,’ were just about to leave her mouth but she pulled herself back in time. They would have to leave a good hour before the sleigh ride, probably sooner if the roads were dicey with the snow. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to think about much else today, actually.’

‘I reckon you will. With it being the Christmas market, we’ll be rushed off our feet if last year’s was anything to go by,’ Ed reminded her.

Each year, on the third Saturday in December, the town held its Christmas market. It was always a popular affair, filling the square with a mixture of festive aromas from roasting chestnuts to mulled wine. The traditional sweet stall was a particular favourite of Florrie’s, the smell of candy infusing the air around it. Adding to the air of nostalgia were the musicians who played at the Jolly of a Friday evening. They pitched up at the entrance to the station, their cheerful, lilting tunes blasting forth. The stallholders did a roaring trade, as did the local shops, reaping the rewards of the extra business the market brought in. The event was topped off by carol singing around the large Christmas tree at the head of the square, accompanied by the local brass band and the Micklewick Bay choir. Florrie only hoped a certain dodgy businessman didn’t seize upon the moment to cause moremayhem, especially since she and Ed had decided to give the carol singing a miss. They were going to use the time to decorate their home for Christmas since they hadn’t had the chance to do it before now. Florrie had never been so late getting her home decked for the festive season!

Florrie told her friends of her concerns over Dillon Swales and his uncle when they’d had their catch-up at the Jolly the previous evening. They’d all offered much-needed words of reassurance, just as she’d hoped they would.

‘You might find things quieten down now, flower,’ Stella had said. ‘Especially if Dodgy Dick thinks the police are watching him and his grubby little sidekicks.’

‘I’m sure Stells is right. Just don’t let it dominate Christmas and your exciting plans for Ed and The Happy Christmas Memory Project. Focus on having a wonderful time instead.’ Lark had smiled kindly at her.

‘I always say there’s no point fretting over something that hasn’t happened yet,’ Jasmine had said.

‘Do you, Jazz?’ Maggie had asked, scrunching her nose up.

‘No.’

‘Didn’t think so.’

‘Just thought it sounded good.’ Jasmine had given a mischievous smile, making them all laugh, which was just what Florrie had needed.

‘Anyroad, what’s the goss with Jack and Jenna? I heard they’d been seen snogging at the end of the pier.’ Jasmine had skilfully changed the subject, lightening Florrie’s mood in the process.

Though she’d kept it to herself, Florrie had considered inviting Jenna to join them for their get-together that evening, knowing the others would be fine with it – as Alex’s sister Zaradid whenever she was in town – but had thought better of it. With Jenna heading back up north the following day, she’d no doubt be keen to spend as much time as possible with Jack.

‘Doesn’t surprise me, the sparks flying between them at her book reading the other night were pretty obvious.’ Stella had arched a knowing eyebrow. ‘Even when the lights went out.’

‘More so when the lights went out!’ Maggie had added with a chuckle.

Their good-natured banter had gone some way to easing Florrie’s disquiet over Dodgy Dick, and she’d managed to put him to the back of her mind. Until his reappearance that afternoon.

She’d been taking Gerty for a walk when she became aware of a large car crawling along on the road beside her. She’d been startled to see it was the one that belonged to Dodgy Dick, the blacked-out windows magnifying his menacing air. She’d eventually shaken him off by ducking into a narrow snicket that led back into town, her feet losing purchase several times on the icy path, causing her to slip over. By the time she got back to the bookshop she was trembling, panic squeezing in her chest.

This was getting out of hand. And it made her all the more determined to accept Jean and Jack’s offer.

THIRTY-TWO

SUNDAY 17TH DECEMBER

Florrie opened her eyes, the remnants of sleep slipping away. In the next moment a feeling of excitement rushed through her. The day of the sleigh ride at Danskelfe Castle had arrived! Beside her, Ed was breathing deeply, cosy in the embrace of slumber, oblivious to the surprise that awaited him. She squinted at the alarm clock beside her until the numbers came into focus. It was seven thirty. Much as the bed was blissfully comfy, Florrie was already too wide awake for sleep to reclaim her. Plus, she was eager to get everything in place for when she could share her surprise with Ed. All she’d told him so far was that he needed to keep the day clear and that he shouldn’t question it – just as she’d done with Jasmine.

She eased herself out of bed, being careful not to disturb him, wriggled her feet into her slippers and reached for her dressing gown.

By the time Ed had landed downstairs in his pyjamas almost half an hour later, Florrie had the table set and Christmas carols playing in the background. The mouth-watering aroma of bacon was floating around the kitchen, Gerty drooling from her vantage point in her bed.

‘Mmm. Something smells good.’ He ran his fingers through his sleep-ruffled hair before making his way over to the oven where Florrie was tending a skillet full of sizzling bacon rashers. He wrapped his arms around her, delivering a kiss to the back of her neck, making her knees go weak.

‘Thought I’d treat us to a couple of bacon butties with a side order of scrambled eggs.’

‘Mmm. Perfect.’ He kissed her again, sending delicious electric pulses firing through her. ‘Need a hand with anything?’

‘No, thanks, everything’s under control. You just park yourself at the table and I’ll bring this over to you in two ticks. Oh, and there’s tea in the pot, by the way. Should be the perfect temperature.’

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