Page 31 of A Snowy Seaside Christmas
Alex was a self-employed architect who’d made a name for himself with his sympathetic conversions and creative designs. He and Stella had been dating for the last year which was unheard of for lovephobic Stella who’d been scornful of love and relationships. Until Alex Bainbridge had walked into her life and forced her to rethink her stance.
With all the women in her friendship group now being in romantic relationships, it had left Lark wide open for teasing and hinting about moving Nate out of the friend zone. ‘If you’re not careful, he’ll take root there, Lark, and you won’t be able to budge him when you finally realise you fancy the pants of him,’ Jasmine had said the last time they were at the Jolly and the group were teasing her about him. She knew it was good-natured and kindly meant, and she took it in her stride, but the recent butterflies that had started fluttering in her stomach whenever she caught his eye or even thought of him, werehappening more often than she cared to admit. And they were beginning to rock her equilibrium. It didn’t help that she wasn’t quite sure what to do about it, especially with all the other things she’d sensed recently.
She scanned the gathering for sight of the man in question – being so tall he was usually easy to pick out – but she couldn’t see him. The pang of disappointment she felt quickly morphed into unease. She hoped he hadn’t decided to go back to Crayke’s Cottage tonight. It would be pitch black, not to mention absolutely freezing, and it would be nigh on impossible to search for any hidden cupboards or false panels. But then again, she reminded herself, he’d told her he’d be here, that he was keen to catch up with her dad. It would be most unlike him to forget, especially considering how fond he was of Silas. The thought offered a degree of reassurance.
A flurry of activity behind the glass door of the bookshop sent a ripple of excitement around the crowd. In the next moment, the door to the bookshop opened and Jack Playforth stepped out, a broad smile on his face.
‘Good evening, everyone,’ he said in his gravelly North Yorkshire accent.
Cheering and clapping rang out, accompanied by whistles and whoops, the sounds bouncing off the buildings and filling the square.
Laughing, Jack raised his palms in a bid for quiet, but it was met with yet more whistles and cheers.
‘Sorry I’m late.’ Nate’s voice in Lark’s ear startled her and the feel of his hand on her shoulder set off an unexpected tingle. She turned to see him gazing down at her, making her stomach loop the loop. The shadows under his eyes weren’t so pronounced in the half-light and she was glad to see he looked more like his old self.
‘Nate!’ A wide smile spread across her face. ‘No worries, you’re here now. Had a busy afternoon?’
‘Put it this way, it’s been eventful.’ He pulled a face for emphasis.
‘Oh? Not in a bad way, I hope.’ She was half-aware of Jack’s voice in the background, asking for the children to be brought to the front of the gathering to ensure they weren’t stuck behind the taller grown-ups who would block their view of proceedings.
‘I’ll explain later. How’s your dad?’
‘He’s good, thanks. Been looking forward to having a catch up with you.’
Nate looked genuinely pleased to hear that. ‘The feeling’s mutual.’
‘So, good people of Micklewick Bay, without further ado, it’s time for me to reveal the first of The Happy Hartes Bookshop festive window displays. And what a great honour it is!’ Jack’s voice brought an end to Lark and Nate’s conversation as he drew the crowd into an enthusiastic countdown. ‘Please feel free to join in with the countdown. Five! Four! Three! Two! One!’
Magical sounding music filled the air as the curtain eased back, revealing a sparkling winter scene set against a stunning Alpine backdrop complete with bright-blue sky. A collective gasp ran around the crowd as they looked on, enraptured to see miniature hand-crafted rabbits, mice and red squirrels dressed in an array of colourful woollen jumpers, bobble hats, scarves and ski goggles whizz down a faux snow-covered mountain. While above, a cable car transported skiers back up the slope. At the foot of the mountain, woodland creatures skated on a mirror-like frozen pond as glittering fake snowflakes floated down.
More clapping and cheering ensued before a second countdown struck up and the curtains opened on another festive scene. This one was set against a starry, moonlit sky with SantaClaus driving his sleigh, the legs of the reindeer moving as they raced above snow-covered rooftops. Lark noted the miniature town below bore more than a passing resemblance to the huddle of cottages in Old Micklewick, with fake smoke curling from their chimney pots. The stars started twinkling as the moon began to shine. But it was when Rudolph’s nose glowed red that the younger members of the audience went into raptures.
‘Oh, wow! That’s stunning!’ Lark clapped her hands excitedly. She knew behind the scenes Ed, who was working the controls, would be enormously relieved it had all gone off without a hitch. He created everything himself and Florrie had told her how he spent hours crafting the various characters and components, working on the moving parts until everything was perfect.
‘I think we can all agree Ed’s created another couple of festive masterpieces for us to enjoy,’ said Jack. Another appreciative round of applause went up. The author waited for it to settle. ‘Now, those of you who’ve come for the reading, if you’d like to form an orderly queue at the right just here, then we’ll start taking tickets and you can get in out of the cold before you get frozen to the spot. As soon as everyone’s in, those of you who’re left can start queuing to take a closer look at the displays. In the meantime, thank you all for coming and supporting The Happy Hartes Bookshop this evening.’
The crowd were clearly in high spirits as yet more cheering and applause followed before they started to slowly disperse, filling the square with the sound of their excited chatter. It mingled easily with the music that floated from the bookshop speakers.
‘Nate, lad! It’s grand to see you,’ said Silas, who’d suddenly clocked the younger man. He went over and gave him an affectionate clap on the back.
‘Silas, it’s grand to see you too. Feels like ages since you were last here.’ Nate’s expression said he was genuinely pleased to see Lark’s father.
‘It has been ages. Lark’s been telling me all about Crayke’s Cottage and the interesting items you found there.’
‘Aye, it’s not what we expected at all. Mind, Louisa, the curator at the heritage centre, was really helpful in shedding light on what some of the items were.’
‘So Lark was telling me. And I’ve brought a couple of books from home that have a bit of info about the cottage and some of the other properties in Old Micklewick. It was quite the smugglers’ paradise by all accounts, what with all the tunnels and secret cellars.’
‘So it would seem.’
A nearby bark drew Silas’s eyes downwards. Lark followed her father’s line of sight, her gaze settling on a black Labrador with a greying muzzle. She couldn’t remember noticing it there before. It took a couple of moments for it to dawn on her that Nate was holding the Labrador’s lead.
‘Who’s this fella, then?’ asked Silas, bending down and offering his hand for the dog to sniff. That done, he smoothed his hand over its ears, which if the tail wagging was anything to go by, was gratefully received.
Lark’s brow crumpled as she wondered why Nate had a Labrador with him, and why he would bring it to the reading. Her next thought was that maybe he wasn’t going to hang around for that.
But Nate answered her questions before she could vocalise them.
