Page 42 of A Snowy Seaside Christmas
Lark went on to tell him about the theft of the out-of-print books from The Happy Hartes Bookshop, and how Ed was hoping to find the thief on the store’s CCTV. Silas had shaken his head, tutting disapprovingly. Talking about it reminded her that she should text Florrie. A thought had struck her last night when she’d first gone to bed, her mind winding down in preparation for sleep. Lark had been thinking about what her friend had told them regarding the theft of the books, when Dodgy Dick and Wendy popped into her thoughts along with the couple they’d joined at the tearoom. Something told her they were involved one way or another. Lark recalled she’d had a conversation with Florrie in which they’d discussed old books on local history, and how collectible some of them were, but she wasn’t certain if it was before or after Dodgy Dick and Wendy had arrived at thetearoom. If it was after, then there was a risk the unscrupulous duo had overheard them. They’d know being out of print would make the books difficult, if not impossible, to get hold of. And she wouldn’t put it past Dodgy Dick and Wendy to do something simply out of spite. She knew they were still smarting over Florrie and Ed’s refusal to sell the bookshop. And the more she’d thought about it, the more she could see it had all the hallmarks of their previous behaviour. Stealing the books, or having someone else do it on their behalf, was exactly the sort of thing they’d do. They’d get enormous pleasure out of the distress the theft would cause. Lark had given up trying to get her head around their nastiness. Their behaviour and values were so far removed from her own, she couldn’t apply any logic to it.
When she ran her theory about the books by her dad, who was all too well aware of the slippery businessman’s reputation, it was his strenuous agreement of it that made her resolve to text Florrie straight after breakfast and mention her suspicions. She hoped there’d be a chance they could get the books returned undamaged, though an uneasy feeling told her otherwise.
TWENTY-SEVEN
With her dad out at the heritage centre, Lark was pottering around Seashell Cottage, tidying up, having just woven a number of tiny plaits into her hair and fixed them with beads. She’d already booked Zara to work in the shop for the day and didn’t want to mess her about by cancelling, so she decided to make the most of having some time to herself. She’d do a spot of meditating, hope it would help clear the clutter from her mind, restore its usual sense of calm. But what was calling out to her the loudest was the suitcase of Betty’s clothes. She felt the need to take another look at them, which was something she hadn’t had a chance to do all week. It crossed her mind that maybe she should pass the suitcase and its contents on to the heritage centre too, rather than putting them up for sale in Lark’s Vintage Bazaar. After all, it wasn’t just a museum about smuggling, it was about the heritage and history of Micklewick Bay. And Betty’s story was a part of that, especially with the newspaper articles Louisa had unearthed.
She was about to retrieve the suitcase from the cupboard under the stairs where she’d tucked it out of the way, when there was a knock at the door.
She opened it to find Nate standing there, his easy smile making her stomach flip. It took her a moment to register he had Buddy by his side.
‘Nate!’
‘Hi, Lark.’
‘Come in out of the cold.’
He hesitated a moment. ‘Am I okay to bring Buddy inside?’
‘Of course! We can’t leave the poor fella on the doorstep. I should imagine he’s done enough of that recently.’
‘Thought I’d better check since I wasn’t sure how Luna was with dogs, not that I would leave him on the doorstep, of course. I’d take him for a walk instead.’
Buddy’s gaze darted between the two of them as they spoke.
‘I’m sure he’ll be fine in here. Buddy’s a good lad. Come on in, the pair of you.’ She held the door open wide.
Buddy wagged his tail on hearing his temporary name. Taking Nate’s cue he stepped into the vestibule. Lark bent to fuss him, her bracelets jangling, while Nate heeled off his boots and hung up his coat.
‘Ahh, you’re a gorgeous lad, aren’t you?’ She ruffled Buddy’s ears.
‘That’s what all the lasses say,’ said Nate, shooting her a jokey grin.
Lark rolled her eyes. ‘I was talking about this boy here, wasn’t I, Buddy?’
Buddy closed his eyes, basking in the attention, his tail thudding against the door frame. He was oblivious to Luna eyeing him from her chair by the stove.
Lark unhooked the Labrador’s lead and hung it over Nate’s coat. Buddy didn’t waste a moment and trotted off into the living room, giving everywhere a thorough sniffing. He stopped abruptly when he got to Luna’s chair, Lark and Nate observing them.
‘I’d love to know what he’s thinking.’ Lark chuckled.
They watched as Buddy stretched his neck, coming nose-to-nose with the cat, his tail wagging. Lark was just about to say he’d made yet another new friend when Luna’s paw shot out and swiped Buddy on the nose. His head darted back, his eyes wide with shock. After a couple of seconds, he turned to Nate wearing an expression that said, ‘Did you see that?’
Nate and Lark burst out laughing.
‘I think we know what’s going through Luna’s mind,’ said Nate, his shoulders shaking with mirth.
‘Oh, poor Buddy,’ Lark said through her giggles.
‘’Fraid that’s women for you, fella. It’s called keeping you on your toes.’ Nate’s comment earned him a nudge from Lark. Buddy backed away from Luna and plodded into the kitchen, his nose stuck to the ground.
‘Have you got time for a cuppa?’ She tilted her head to look up at Nate.
‘Aye, why not?’ He playfully tugged on one of her plaits as he followed her toward the kitchen.
‘How’re things going?’ She got the feeling he had something on his mind.
Nate pulled out a chair at the table and flopped into it, dragging his hand down his face. ‘I’ve got a massive backlog, but I thought Buddy needed a break. He’s been very patient just sitting in the workshop, watching me as I work. And to be honest, I needed a change of scenery myself. I’m feeling a bit knackered. What with sorting out the stuff from Crayke’s Cottage and making space for it, I’ve been starting early and finishing late. And on top of that, I’m being hassled by a couple from Lingthorpe expecting their stuff to take priority. The bloke rang this morning telling me his wife was going to be disappointed if the units weren’t in situ at their house by Christmas. It was all said in a bit of a weird manner, kind offriendly but with a slightly menacing undertone. He finished off by saying that he does what it takes to make sure his wife’s never disappointed.’
