Page 51 of A Snowy Seaside Christmas
‘Oh, right.’ Nate looked stunned, as if he’d been slapped across the face.
‘I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.’
‘No, no. I’m the one who should be sorry. I got it wrong. But we can just forget it, act like it’s never happened.’ He reached for his coat and clicked his tongue for Bobby.
‘Nate—’
‘I’ll see you later, Lark. Like I said, thanks for the food.’ With that he headed through the door, leaving Lark feeling utterly wretched.
Lark pulled up outside Louisa’s house as her father’s text had instructed her to do. She couldn’t decide whether to knock on the door or simply text her dad and let him know she was there – if she did the former, would it mean they’d still have the problem with “the goodnight kiss” or would it seem unfriendly if she did the latter? Blimey, this was tricky.
As if she didn’t have enough on her plate with Nate and what had happened before he’d left Seashell Cottage. She clapped her hands to her face and groaned loudly at the memory, just as her dad headed through Louisa’s front gate.
‘Hi, Dad.’ She fixed a smile to her face as he climbed in beside her.
‘Hello, sweetheart, thanks for this.’
‘No problem. How was your evening?’
He turned to her and smiled. ‘It was quite wonderful actually.’
‘Oh, Dad, I’m so happy for you.’
‘I know it’s going to sound like a corny old cliché, but it feels like I’ve known Louisa for years. She feels the same too, says we’re kindred spirits.’ He gave an embarrassed laugh.
Lark could have done a happy dance on the spot. Instead, she fired up the ignition and pulled out into the road.
‘I’m over the moon for you.’
‘Thank you, sweetheart. And how’s your evening been?’ he asked, blissfully unaware of how loaded his question was.
THIRTY-ONE
SUNDAY 7TH DECEMBER
After dropping her father off at Nate’s workshop, Lark had headed straight to her shop. She hadn’t called in to say hello to her friend – if she could still call him that; he might not think of her that way any longer – as she normally would. After what had happened last night, it would’ve felt too strange, and she didn’t want her dad to pick up on any weirdness between her and Nate. It would only lead to him asking questions, and the last thing she needed was to have to navigate those first thing on a Sunday morning. She hadn’t even got her head around it all herself without having to explain whatever it was to her dad. It was bad enough trying to think of a way to get him to come round to Lark’s Vintage Bazaar rather than her pick him up at Nate’s workshop without him asking questions. They’d agreed to finish whatever they were working on at twelve o’clock, which would give them enough time to get home and get changed before heading to the Jolly for the Sunday dinner she’d promised her dad. As a rule, she wouldn’t think twice about picking him up from Nate’s, and her dad would know that too. But today, Nate was the last person she wanted to see, which wasn’t an ideal situation since Nate and Louisa were supposed to be joining them for the meal.
She puffed out her cheeks as she parked her car in a space a few doors down from her shop. ‘How have you even got yourself into this mess?’ she asked herself out loud. She didn’t know where things were going to go from here. How could they ever be the same? And as for that dratted feeling that just wouldn’t go away. Jeez, if anything was outstaying its welcome, it was that! It was all such a crazy mix in her head and she didn’t know what to do about it.
She swept her gaze around the square through the car window, taking in all the festive displays and halting at The Happy Hartes Bookshop, which was a delicious Christmas confection. Everywhere was cheerfully oblivious to the turmoil that was raging inside her.
Heaving herself out of the car, she made her way to the shop, avoiding the icy patches that had managed to dodge the salt. She’d just put her key in the door when she heard a voice calling her from further up the square.
She turned her head to see Ando Taylor in his usual garb of ripped jeans, battered leather jacket, the latest trainers favoured by students and baseball cap turned back-to-front. His hair was hanging down his back like over-bleached rats’ tails. No matter what the season, or how inclement the weather, Ando always wore exactly the same. Today, he must be freezing, thought Lark.
‘’Ow do,’ he said, giving a familiar Yorkshire greeting and a lopsided smile. His eyes were bleary, and he looked somewhat worse for wear. She wondered if he was hungover from indulging in the home brew he regularly spoke of. Gut Rot, he called it. He seemed to have an endless supply and had regularly tried to tempt Jasmine back to his digs with the promise of a glass or two to help wash down his out-of-date pickled eggs. Despite the fact Jasmine had never taken him up on his offer, he’d persisted until she’d started dating Max. Which was when he’d turned his attentions to Lark.
Lark massaged her brow with her fingertips. She didn’t want to hurt Ando’s feelings, but she’d hardly slept a wink last night, fretting about what had happened with her and Nate. And she could really do without Ando’s clumsy, ill-advised advances right now.
‘Morning, Ando.’ She busied herself with opening the door, hoping he’d get the message that she didn’t want to talk.
‘That’s a couple of fit birds you’ve got there.’ He nodded towards the mannequins in the shop’s window display. ‘Just my type, they are an’ all.’ He gave a leery smirk that made her instantly picture Stella wiping the floor with him for his inappropriate comment.
Not knowing how to answer his rather odd statement, she said, ‘I’ll see you later, Ando, I’ve got lots to do today.’
‘What? On a Sunday? Who works on a Sunday?’
Ando didn’t seem to work on any day. As far as anyone knew, he spent his time with the skateboarders at the local park.
