Page 61 of Christmas at the Little Bookshop by the Sea

‘No, sorry.’ Leah fiddled with her fingers. The poor girl looked decidedly awkward.

‘There’s no need for you to apologise, flower.’ Florrie reached out and squeezed Leah’s shoulder. ‘I’m just surprised – it’s all a bit out of the blue and unexpected. I daresay he’ll be back soon.’ She spoke with more conviction than she felt.

Florrie waited for Leah to head to the front of the shop before she tried Ed’s mobile, but, frustratingly, it just rang out before the voicemail kicked in. She tapped her phone against her chin, not welcoming the feeling of disquiet that was beginning to creep over her as she recalled the last time he’d taken off and left her like this.

By the time quarter to five arrived and there was still no sign of Ed, Florrie was thoroughly agitated. She’d spent the afternoon swinging between feeling annoyed and being concerned. And whenever the bell went above the shop door, her heart leapt, hoping Ed would walk through it, all smiles. But each time she was disappointed.

She tried his phone numerous times, but it always ended up going to voicemail.Ed Harte, what the heck are you playing at?Her mind went to the attic at the cottage, wondering what he’d been searching for. She couldn’t shake the feeling it had something to do with that. Her pulse started to race, panic prickling over her skin. How she hated feeling this way. Is this what life with him was going to be like? she wondered. Periods of calm, followed by more of his unsettling flaky behaviour?Stop jumping to conclusions! He hasn’t been gone long at all! Give him a chance.

And now she found herself in the uncomfortable position of having to call Jean and tell her they couldn’t make it to The Cellar. It was something she didn’t relish. She hardly knew what to say, dreading hearing the disappointment in her friend’svoice. She didn’t want Jean to think they were messing her and Jack about.

She was relieved and, not to mention, thankful when Jean took it well.

‘Don’t worry, lovey, we can meet up when Ed gets back. And try not to dwell on it. I’m sure it’s not like last time when he wanted to get away from everything. I expect he’s gone to source a Christmas present for you or has maybe even got wind of something fabulous for the new tearoom,’ she said kindly.

But Florrie wasn’t so sure.

Arriving back at Samphire Cottage, Florrie soon found the reason Ed hadn’t been answering his phone: he’d left it on the kitchen table, along with a dog-eared brown envelope. Its address had been crossed out, rendering it illegible.

She ran upstairs to the attic where her worries were confirmed. Papers had been pulled out of boxes and strewn all over the floor. She felt tears sting her eyes. Her suspicions had been right. He’d got cold feet.

Back downstairs, Florrie sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands, her mind spinning with confusion. She felt too annoyed to cry. After the wonderful day they’d had yesterday, how could he do this to her? Never mind that! After this last eighteen months with them growing closer every day, how could he just make some sort of rash decision to up and off like this? Did their relationship mean so little? And it was one thing treating her this way, but leaving without having the good manners to speak to Jean and Jack was another. The last time he’d done this, he’d come back, his tail between his legs, full of apologies, and she’d told him she couldn’t go through it again, the uncertainty, the insecurity. She thought from what he’d said afterwards that he understood. He’d promised her he wouldn’tdo it again, promised her that if he ever had any doubts or worries about being involved in the bookshop, he’d talk to her about it first. Agreed to be honest and upfront.

‘Pft!’ Florrie snorted. ‘Once a flaky loser, always a flaky loser.’

She wouldn’t give him the chance to do it again. Though it didn’t stop her from making a mental note to check through the papers he’d so recklessly cast around the floor. Despite her anger, she was curious to find out if it would offer any clues as to his hasty departure.

THIRTY-SEVEN

TUESDAY 19TH DECEMBER

Florrie functioned on autopilot since Ed did a runner. Not wanting to worry her parents, she’d kept his sudden disappearance to herself, and had asked Leah to do the same. Florrie hadn’t shared her concerns with her young assistant, and had just said he’d gone to see a friend he hadn’t seen for a while and who wasn’t going to be in the country for much longer, by way of explanation. She didn’t want to risk Dodgy Dick finding out she was alone. She hoped her excuse hadn’t sounded as lame to Leah as it had to her own ears.

Jean Davenport had knocked at the shop door before opening time and before Leah was yet to arrive. She’d swept Florrie into a warm hug, offering her words of comfort as the young woman had sobbed on her shoulder, Jean reiterating what she’d said the previous day. ‘Honestly, lovey, anyone can see from the way he looks at you, he’s besotted.’

‘If that’s the case, why hasn’t he rung, Jean?’ She’d dabbed at her eyes with the paper tissue Jean had handed her. ‘I know he’s forgotten his mobile, but there are other phones. He could’ve called me from one of those, set my mind at rest.’

Jean hadn’t been able to argue; his lack of contact did look bad. ‘I still think you’re jumping to conclusions, Florrie, love. Hewas so fired up about having a tearoom here, and you saw what he was like about the staircase. Mark my words, he’ll have a valid excuse for dashing off so suddenly – mind, I have to agree, he could’ve handled it better. He’s definitely got more than a drop of his grandad’s spontaneous nature about him. Dinah used to go mad about Bernard sometimes.’

Though Jean’s words had offered a tiny glimmer of hope, Florrie still couldn’t excuse the way he’d made her feel. It was as if she’d had her heart ripped out and given a thorough stomping on. Again.

The only highlight of Tuesday morning was when she received a text from Maggie telling her she was home and settling into her new routine with baby Lucy. It came with an invitation for her and the rest of their friendship group to call in and meet the new arrival the following day after the bookshop had closed. Much as she valued her friends’ opinion on, well… everything, Florrie made a conscious decision not to mention Ed’s disappearance to them. This was Maggie and Bear’s time – and baby Lucy’s – for celebrating the arrival of a much-longed-for baby. There was no way she was going to wade in and spoil it with her moaning and negativity.

‘We’ve had a really weird phone call,’ Leah said, joining Florrie in the kitchen.

‘In what way was it weird?’ Florrie’s thoughts went straight to Ed, wondering if he’d try to contact her on the bookshop’s landline. If he’d left his phone at home, it was more than likely he wouldn’t remember her mobile number. In truth, she wouldn’t know his off the top of her head, or anyone else’s for that matter. And they’d had the landline at Samphire Cottage disconnected recently since they used it so infrequently, so he couldn’t call on that number.

‘Well, whoever it was that called sounded like they had their head in a metal bucket and were gargling under water.’

‘Oh.’ Florrie tried to imagine what that might sound like. ‘That would’ve made for an interesting conversation.’

‘They hung up before I could get any sense out of them.’

It had fleetingly crossed Florrie’s mind that it might be Dodgy Dick or one of his lackeys in another attempt at spooking them by making creepy phone calls; there had been a couple yesterday and a handful on Saturday. Florrie had been too busy, her head too full of thoughts of Jean and Jack’s offer and then the sleigh ride to pay much attention to them.

That evening, after Florrie had pushed away her half-eaten bowl of soup – her appetite had disappeared along with Ed – she headed up to the attic, hoping to find any clues as to what he’d been up to, what had made him flee so suddenly. Her heart sank at seeing the chaos again.Why would he leave so hastily and with all his stuff in such a mess?Feeling guilty at going through his paperwork, she tidied it all into a neat pile and set it beside the shelf where he kept some of his boxes. What she’d found hadn’t revealed anything anyway, and had mostly been bumph about art exhibitions and old posters advertising them. Feeling utterly despondent, she headed back downstairs.

Just as she had the night before, Florrie had lain awake for hours, her head going over everything up to the point Ed had left. Each time, she came back to the same thing: the bookshop and his father’s phone call. She’d convinced herself that, as keen as he’d originally been about Jean and Jack’s offer, it had made him focus his mind on what he really wanted for his future. Made him realise, when it came down to it, he didn’t see the bookshop in those plans. He was going to hand his share to his parents, or sell it to Dodgy Dick, and she’d have no choice but todo the same. There was no other explanation for it. And it made her sick with worry.

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