Page 10 of A Snowy Seaside Christmas
‘That’s good to hear, Dad.’ His news may have struck like a bolt out of the blue, but Lark was thrilled to hear of her father’s decision.
‘I’m glad you think so, sweetheart. I’ve decided it’s time for a completely fresh start. Thought I’d get a little part-time job, nothing too taxing.’ He chuckled at that. ‘And I quite fancy doing a few stints as a volunteer somewhere. I’m financially secure, so I’m hoping that should all work out quite nicely. I’ve got my savings, and with what I get for this place, on top of the… um… I should be able to manage quite nicely.’
Lark knew the “um” was about the life insurance cover her dad and Greer had taken out years ago. It had paid out on Greer’s death, which Lark knew had tortured her father, him saying it was no better than “blood money”. She’d had to sit him down and explain it was anything but, asking him to think about Greer being in his position. ‘You both took it out to make life easier for the one left behind. It offered you reassurancethat Greer would be taken care of and have no financial worries if anything happened to you. It would’ve been the same for her. You know it would, Dad.’ He’d reluctantly agreed with his daughter’s logic.
‘Well, if I know you, Dad, you’ll have given this a huge amount of thought and I’m chuffed to bits you’ve decided to come home.’ It felt like a step in the right direction, rather than him being over in High Nedderton, where his memories still had the power to drag him under. Even the school where he worked reminded him of Greer.
Lark found herself bouncing with happiness at the prospect of having her dad live close by again. ‘Well, don’t feel you need to rush in and buy something that isn’t exactly what you want. You’re welcome to stay here with me till a decent property turns up. I know it’ll be a bit of a commute from here to work, but it’s doable and would give you a good idea of what it’d be like if you did move here permanently.’
‘I couldn’t impose on you like that, Lark. What if I don’t find anything suitable for months?’
‘I don’t care how long it takes, I’d love to have you here. I miss you, Dad,’ she said softly.
‘I miss you, too, sweetheart,’ he said, his voice gruff with emotion.
It had been over six months since she’d last seen him, and any contact with him prior to that had been sporadic to say the least. Lark knew he’d been avoiding her so she wouldn’t see the battle he was having with his grief, but the dark circles beneath his eyes had been a dead giveaway. He’d thrown himself into doing up the house, making the changes he and Greer had talked about but had never actually got round to, doing all he could to keep busy. But he was in danger of running himself into the ground. If he moved in with her at Seashell Cottage for a while she’d be able to keep an eye on him, feed him up and get him outand about again. He’d stopped socialising and hidden himself away, and if the amount of weight he’d lost was anything to go by, he’d been barely eating. He was in danger of becoming an old man before his time if he wasn’t careful, which Lark thought would be a tragedy, especially since he was only fifty-nine.
She swallowed down the lump of emotion that had lodged itself in her throat. ‘And it’s been an age since you last sampled the Jolly’s fish and chips,’ she said, forcing a laugh into her voice. ‘And I can assure you, they’re as yummy as ever.’
‘That’s good to hear.’ He laughed too, the sound sending a wave of warmth washing over Lark. ‘Looks like I’d better take you up on your offer, then.’
‘Fab! And how about in the meantime, you come for Sunday dinner next week and stay over for the weekend? We could do some house-hunting for you. It’s a shame school hasn’t broken up for the Christmas holidays already, Jack Playforth and Jenna Johnstone are giving an author reading at the bookshop on Thursday evening and I know for a fact there’s a ticket going spare. You could come for that.’
The enthusiasm in her voice made Silas laugh. ‘I’ve heard so much about these author readings, and as you know, I’m a huge fan of Jack Playforth, which means it’s just as well we’ve got a training day booked for Friday so school’s actually closed – Hilary, the head, lets us do the training online. I could set off straight from school on Thursday afternoon and get to you in plenty of time, provided the weather behaves itself, of course.’
‘Fab! I’ll text Florrie straight away, ask her to keep the spare ticket for you. I promise you’ll have a great time, Dad.’ A year ago he’d have turned the offer down immediately, not wanting to be around people, but his acceptance and the prospect of him moving back to Micklewick Bay was a positive sign as far as Lark was concerned.
‘I daresay I will, flower.’
‘There’s going to be nibbles on afterwards, in the bookshop’s new tearoom.’
‘I was sold at the mention of fish and chips, but nibbles at the new tearoom has just confirmed my decision.’ He chuckled some more. ‘Anyroad, you said you had something to run by me.’
‘Ooh, yes. Well, do you remember Crayke’s Cottage? It’s tucked away down in Micklemackle Yard here in the old part of town, been empty for as long as I’ve been aware of it.’
‘I do, yes. Hasn’t crossed my mind for years. Why? You’re not thinking of moving there, are you?’
‘No, nothing like that – though it is going on the market soon.’ Was that a hint of concern she detected in her father’s voice? ‘Long story short, the two brothers who inherited it want to sell it ASAP and booked Nate to take all the contents off their hands.’
‘I thought Nate didn’t do house clearances.’
‘He doesn’t usually; this was a one-off. Anyroad, I went to give him a hand and… Oof! What a place! Honestly, Dad, you’d love it. It was fascinating, just like it’d been frozen in time.’
‘And how did you feel when you were there? I expect you’ll have picked up all sorts of vibes.’
‘I did, though because it was so bone-numbingly cold there, it interfered with it a bit. You’ll know it’s supposed to be haunted – definitely looks and feels the part. And there’s all sorts of rumours linked to it.’ She went on to share what Nate had told her of Mr Thurston describing it as being cursed.
‘Yeah, from what I can remember, it has a colourful past,’ Silas said, sounding thoughtful. ‘I’m sure it features in some of the books I have on the houses of Old Micklewick. I’ll dig them out and bring them with me.’
‘That would be great.’ Her stomach gave a flutter at the prospect of delving deeper into the history of the place.
‘How’s Nate doing, by the way?’
A shadow momentarily crossed her face as she recalled the feelings she’d been getting about her friend. It disappeared quickly once she reminded herself of her theory of him picking up negative vibes from the vintage clothing he wore and the furniture he worked on.
Her dad had always been fond of Nate and the feeling was mutual. Lark assumed it was because they shared a good-natured temperament, a mischievous sense of humour not to mention an interest in old furniture. Lark knew her dad would not-so-secretly be thrilled if she and Nate became an item. He’d dropped it into conversation enough times, but she’d just laughed it off.
‘He’s fine; he’ll be chuffed to bits when I tell him you’re coming to stay.’
