Page 4 of A Snowy Seaside Christmas
‘Bet that went down well.’ Bear was known for enjoying a pint or two with his mates at the pub.
‘Aye, it did. And getting back to the subject of the cottage, I reckon there’ll be more clothing which you’re welcome to.’
A flurry of excitement rippled through Lark at the prospect of more items all with their own stories to tell. ‘Ooh! Let’s hope so, mind, you’ve got to let me give you something for them.’
‘Don’t be so daft! I got a decent rate for the clearance, plus, you’re doing me a favour by taking them; I’ve got no use for clothes so you might as well have them. Plus, you’ve fed and watered me which is payment enough.’ He gestured to the now empty bowl in front of him.
‘In that case, I don’t want any money for the ticket to Jack and Jenna’s Christmas reading at the bookshop next week.’ Though Lark spoke in her usual soft tone, the look in her eyes told Nate she’d brook no argument.
‘Aye, fair enough,’ he said reluctantly.
Jack Playforth and Jenna Johnstone were well-loved, nationally famous authors who shared a cottage not far from Lark’s home. The couple regularly gave readings at The Happy Hartes Bookshop in the town. Their self-deprecating sense of humour and gift for storytelling meant their events were always popular and sold out quickly. Luckily for Lark, she was best friends with Florrie Appleton who co-owned the bookshop with her boyfriend, Ed Harte, and she, together with the rest of their group of friends, always had first refusal on tickets for the events held there. Lark was looking forward to the latest reading, especially since it was to have a Christmas slant.
‘In the meantime, how d’you fancy a warmed mince pie? They’re from the deli; I popped some in my basket when I was buying the bread.’
‘Are they the ones with the chunks of crystallised ginger?’ he asked, a hopeful gleam in his eye. She’d picked up a couple earlier in the week and he’d raved about them then.
‘They are indeedy. I can heat up some custard to go with them, if you fancy?’
‘You really need to ask?’ Nate grinned, rubbing his hand over his stomach as she got to her feet and reached for the tin containing the mince pies.
Much as she was itching to delve inside the suitcases – after her conversation with Nate regarding the rumours about Crayke’s Cottage, it was almost beginning to feel like the items locked within were calling to her, pleading for her to listen to their stories – Lark’s conscience wouldn’t let him leave without at least offering him a mince pie, especially considering how much he liked them. She’d bought another two before he’d even mentioned the clearance of Crayke’s Cottage, knowing he’d call round at some point over the weekend; he usually did, unless they were off on one of their sourcing trips.
Sliding the festive pastries into the oven, it wasn’t long before the spicy aroma of Christmas filled the air, making her mouth water in anticipation.
THREE
Nate didn’t hang around for long once they’d devoured the mince pies and custard. After scraping his bowl clean, he helped with the small pile of washing-up – as he always did – then gathered up his coat, declaring it was time he headed home.
With his woolly hat pulled over his ears, he delivered a gentle kiss to Lark’s cheek, his eyes soft with affection. ‘Thanks for feeding me and for your help with Crayke’s Cottage.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Lark smiled up at him, thoughts of how handsome he was crossing her mind. ‘Thanks for the suitcases. I’ll let you know if I find anything exciting.’
‘I hope you do – find summat exciting, that is.’ He lingered a moment as if contemplating saying something. ‘Right then, I’ll be in touch about tomorrow.’ He opened the door and stepped out into the elements. Despite the shockingly cold wind howling around the huddle of houses and sucking the warmth from Seashell Cottage, Lark found herself rooted to the spot. She was unable to tear her eyes away from her friend, watching as he disappeared into the night, his head bent against the swirling snow. She pressed her hand to her mouth as the unwelcome sense of foreboding crept over her once more.
Closing the door, she headed back into the cosiness of the living room, her unease building and her stomach churning as she flopped onto the sofa. ‘Why am I feeling like this?’ She scrubbed her face with her hands. ‘I wish it would stop!’
Today wasn’t the first time her senses had alerted her to something inexplicable about Nate, but the sensation had never been as intense as this, never been as disconcerting. Perplexing as it was, she’d always known instinctively it wasn’t simply a warning telling her to avoid him, that he was a “wrong ’un” intent on causing her hurt or heartache. There was no escaping he was a genuinely kind and decent man who had the biggest heart. And it wasn’t just Lark who held him in such high regard; all who knew him thought so, too. He was well liked and well respected by the locals of Micklewick Bay. Her instincts had always been quick to detect those with dubious intentions who should be treated with caution. Local “businessman” Dick Swales – or Dodgy Dick as locals referred to him – with his increasingly unscrupulous dealings, was such a person. He tried to pass himself off as some sort of respectable gentleman, but he fooled no one. He was the polar opposite of Nate who, like Lark, had a gentle nature and saw the good in everyone. From their first meeting, her gut had told her that he was as honest as the day was long, that he didn’t have a bad bone in his body. She trusted that feeling implicitly and he’d never given her cause to doubt it. Despite this, the puzzling background feelings he aroused held her back from taking their relationship to the next level. She just wished she could fathom out what the heck they were all about, gain some understanding of them. It didn’t help that the sensations or, rather, “premonitions” she regularly experienced with other people usually presented themselves more clearly – she’d known that her friend, the relationship phobic Stella would find love with Alex, and determinedly single Jasmine would fall head over heels for Max. Those feelings hadbeen clear and strong. But the fuzzy “image”, for want of a better word, that filled her mind whenever she thought about Nate was too vague for her to decipher. Yet it was still enough for her to take it as a sign that she should steer clear of becoming romantically involved with him. In fact, she’d grown so used to its presence over the years, she barely noticed it now, which she assumed was owing to her acceptance that she and Nate were destined never to be more than friends.
She gave a sigh, recalling the look in his eyes when he’d kissed her cheek just before he left. It had been enough to send a warm glow spreading through her. How could such a pleasant sensation have dissipated so quickly? Talk about frustrating! And what had caused such an unsettling feeling to leap into its place and snuff out the positive vibes of mere moments before? But much as she’d like to know the answer, she was afraid to search her mind too deeply, fearful of what she might find.
Not for the first time did she regret that she’d inherited her mother Serena’s ability to read auras and her gift of precognition. Having a sense or an awareness of something that was going to happen in the future wasn’t always a good thing. At times, it had the power to make Lark’s skin prickle with unease, and she’d wish the ability away. Which was what she’d done just now after the unsettling vibes she’d picked up from Nate.
She swallowed the lump of stress that had lodged itself in her throat. Lark knew exactly why this feeling was causing her such concern, making her afraid to search her mind too deeply for answers. The last time she’d been overwhelmed by a premonition with such a sense of foreboding, it hadn’t turned out well, and had resulted in her being distraught and desperate to distance herself from her psychic abilities. Being in possession of such knowledge had become too stressful for her. Become a burden rather than a gift. So much so, that it had resulted in her making a concerted effort to keep her attentionaway from reading auras and doing all she could to block any sense of precognition that presented itself to her. It hadn’t been easy, especially since she’d taken the time over the years to hone her skills.
Lark had first become aware she could read auras when she was a young child, seeing what she’d described to her mum as “glowy colours” around people and even animals. She’d soon learnt that different coloured auras signified different things – a blue aura meant a person was calm, while a yellow aura usually signified someone was full of energy. And sometimes a person’s aura could change. It had taken her a while to learn how to concentrate sufficiently such that she could not only read an individual’s aura, but also understand the different colours that made up their “auric field”, as it was known. This had eventually become something she did automatically, without giving it a second thought. But after what had happened just over three years ago, Lark had become almost resentful of her ability and deliberately avoided the temptation to read anyone’s aura, consciously blocking her mind to it. It still sneaked in from time to time and her skin would prickle as an unexpected sense of whatever it was came over her, but it wasn’t anywhere near as heightened as it had been. It was the same with moments of precognition, though that hadn’t been so easy to ignore. Despite this, she’d managed to reduce her psychic moments to a manageable level, consciously pushing away anything that aroused a feeling of unease and not engaging with it. It could be draining at times, which was why she was vigilant in her distribution of crystals around her home and her person in a bid to add a layer of protection and support.
Lark was glad, and not a little relieved, that her endeavours hadn’t stripped away all of her psychic abilities, and she was still able to pick up on the vibrations of people and places. They still came through loud and clear. She valued this aspect of herextrasensory ability for when she was selecting vintage garments and items to sell in Lark’s Vintage Bazaar. Since that didn’t involve anyone or anything personal to her or those she loved, she was happy to put it to good use for such purposes. That way, only things with a good energy would make it to her shop; she didn’t want to risk anything that was hanging on to negative vibes sneaking in. Other than that, Lark decided to also focus her attention on her aromatherapy range and crystal healing which had become a passion of hers and which she hoped would engender a more positive and less stressful existence for her. She’d been pleased to find her new strategy had worked. Until now, with Nate.
The reminder sent a wave of disquiet washing over her. She tipped her head back and released an exasperated gasp, causing Luna to jump down from her spot on the armchair where she’d been quietly observing her and leap up onto Lark’s lap, mewing as if sensing her owner’s thoughts.
‘Oh, Luna, you can tell something’s not right, too, can’t you?’ She smoothed her hand over the cat’s silky fur, Luna purring loudly as she made herself comfortable. ‘I wish I could understand what it is.’Please be okay, Nate.
If she was being honest, Lark would admit that the feelings she had for Nate ran deep. Deeper than she dared admit to herself, never mind anyone else – and definitely not her best friends! If only she had the courage to face how she felt. The emotions he stirred inside her were more than those of simply friendship and there’d been times when she’d struggled to keep a lid on them. But the inexplicable warnings that something wasn’t right, meant that she’d quashed her feelings, telling herself she and Nate were only meant to be friends. Nothing more. But now, with this dark sense of foreboding shrouding Nate, there was a whole maelstrom of emotions raging around inside her, sending her mind into turmoil.
But one thing stood out loud and clear: she felt scared. Scared of whatever it was that was generating this new level of warning regarding Nate. And scared that she didn’t know what to do about it.
What she did know, however, was that she needed to rein in her anxiety before it spilled over and alerted him, and others, that something was wrong.
