Page 65 of Christmas at the Little Bookshop by the Sea

Hearing those words sent happiness surging through her. ‘I love you, too, Ed Harte.’

He flopped back, a smile spreading over his face. ‘Why don’t we text Jean and Jack, see if they want to meet up at The Cellar tomorrow night? We can tell them we’d love to have them on board at The Happy Hartes Bookshop, seal the deal with a glass of fizz. The sooner we set things in motion, the better. Hopefully they won’t change their mind when they hear about my dad’s demands.’

‘I’m sure they won’t. If you remember, Jack actually asked if we’d be okay with him including us and the bookshop in his autobiography. He’s respectful of people’s wishes and I’m sure he’ll understand.’

‘Yeah, you’re right.’

And just like that, her world was back on track.

FORTY

CHRISTMAS EVE

‘Any idea of what you’d like to do today, or are you just fancying a chill in advance of the big day tomorrow?’ asked Ed. They were sitting at the kitchen table in their pyjamas, munching on buttery oven bottom muffins, a large teapot of freshly made tea sitting between them.

‘Hmm.’ Florrie scooped a dollop of marmalade from the jar. ‘I’ve got something else to add to The Happy Christmas Memory Project.’ She gave him a mysterious smile.

‘Something else? Haven’t you done enough? The project is groaning with happy memories.’

‘Another one isn’t going to hurt.’ She grinned as she bit down on her muffin, making Ed laugh.

‘Fair enough. And are you going to give me any clues?’

‘Nope. Only that you need to dress up warm, maybe put that Christmas jumper to good use again. Oh, and you’ll have to stay out of the kitchen for an hour.’

‘Oh, right.’ Ed’s eyebrows drew together in bafflement.

‘All will be revealed when the time’s right. You just need to be ready to go out at about one o’clock.’

‘The plot thickens,’ he said with a smile.

Bang on the dot of one o’clock, Florrie and Ed left the house, taking Gerty with them. Ed followed as Florrie headed towards the car, zapping it with the key fob. It was another beautiful wintry day with clear blue skies above. There’d been a light dusting of snow overnight, but nothing that would hinder Florrie’s plans. She’d already been out earlier and had cleared the car’s windscreen, giving it a thorough spraying of de-icer for good measure.

‘Can you tell me where we’re heading yet?’ Ed asked, as she turned the engine on and set the air vents on full blast.

‘Patience.’ She grinned at him as she flicked the indicator and put the car into gear. A thrill rushed through her as she anticipated Ed’s reaction to her latest plan in The Happy Christmas Memory Project.

Soon they were heading down the steep incline of Skitey Bank. Though the gritters had been out earlier, Florrie still drove cautiously; she didn’t want to risk losing control of the car and have them careering down to the bottom prom, as some unfortunate driver had done the previous winter, ending up crashing into the wooden railings.

‘We’re going for a walk on the beach?’ Ed said, when she pulled up in the seafront car park. Gerty peered gleefully out of the rear window, the prospect of a run along the sand making her shiver with anticipation. Most of the snow had gone there, with just traces by the edges of the wall and around the kiosks, the salty sea air making short work of it.

‘Not just yet.’ She stilled the engine and gave him a smile, her eyes glittering. ‘But we need to get out here.’

‘Okay.’ Ed laughed.

‘Right, it’s this way.’ Florrie hooked the backpack she’d taken to the car earlier over her shoulders. ‘It’s not far.’ She slipped her gloved hand into Ed’s and cast him a smile.

‘I’m intrigued,’ he said, grinning down at her.

A short walk later, she stopped outside a chalet painted a tasteful shade of duck-egg blue. A festive wreath hung from its door, the inclusion of seashells giving it a seaside twist. ‘This is us,’ she said, pushing the key into the lock and opening the door, while Gerty had a good sniff around the ground.

Inside they were greeted by an achingly cosy sight. The chalet’s compact exterior belied the spacious room within. The walls were clad with white painted matchboard while the floor was covered with a rustic sisal carpet, in keeping with the location. At the back of the room was a set of built-in bunkbeds; to the right was a compact fitted kitchen painted a smoky shade of blue, as was the dining table and its two chairs. To the left was a lounge area with two small armchairs that flanked a wood-burning stove. The accessories had a tasteful seaside theme, with the soft furnishings in variations of blue and white, while watercolour paintings of Micklewick Bay beach and Old Micklewick adorned the walls. But best of all, the beach hut had been decorated for the festive season, and a small Christmas tree stood by the door, while twinkling fairy lights were draped around the walls, and a reed diffuser infused the air with the aroma of cinnamon and ginger.

‘Oh, wow! This is amazing,’ said Ed, looking around him in awe.

‘I know. It belongs to Stella’s mum. She said we could use it for today.’ She went to plug in the electric heater Alice had told her about. She’d advised her to put it to use while the stove got going.

‘She did?’ Ed asked, looking puzzled.

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