Chapter 4 #3
Like her, Ed wasn’t a fan of confrontation; they both preferred a quiet, peaceful life, rubbing along easily with everyone.
Though, Florrie had to admit, she wasn’t averse to standing up for what she believed to be right or if an injustice had been done, particularly if it involved supporting her family or one of her friends.
But right now, she couldn’t work out what Ed was trying to tell her.
Had he taken the path of least resistance and told his mum what she’d wanted to hear and agreed to her staying with them?
Her stomach started churning. Please don’t let Dawn have worn him down.
After all, his mother had been at Samphire Cottage for hours while Florrie was at the Jolly with her friends, which meant she’d had plenty of time to work on him.
But surely, he’d run it by her first before agreeing to anything as monumental as his mum staying with them for who knew how long?
Ugh! Just thinking about it sent anxiety churning up her insides even more.
And, as if that wasn’t enough, Florrie had a nagging doubt Dawn’s reason for coming to Micklewick Bay had nothing to do with helping them prepare for their wedding.
Such an offer was so far removed from the woman she’d heard nothing good about from as far back as she could remember, not to mention her own experience of her since Ed had settled in Micklewick Bay a couple of years ago.
There was no way it could be true. She’d be a fool to think so.
Florrie drew in a deep breath, secretly crossing her fingers and hoping with all her might Ed had been firm with his mother and told her she couldn’t stay with them. ‘So why do you think she didn’t rant or shout?’
He turned, locking his eyes on hers. The look she saw there told her what she was about to hear would be the truth, though his troubled expression suggested he’d been wrestling with the question just as much as she had.
‘I’m not a hundred per cent sure, to be honest. Maybe she’s realised that her old ways don’t work with us and arrived at the conclusion that it’s time to try a different tack.
Maybe it’s her way of building bridges.’
‘You think?’ Florrie was unable to keep the incredulity from her voice.
If that was the case, Dawn Harte had a gargantuan task on her hands.
And she wasn’t so sure Ed really thought that, either.
Old habits die hard, after all; she couldn’t see either of his parents going to such lengths any time soon.
‘I mean, both her and my father seem to have lost a fair bit of their steam since the diagnosis of his heart condition and their move back to the UK – I’m still puzzled as to why they’ve been reluctant to share details about what the condition actually is, though knowing them, it shouldn’t surprise me.
I got the impression they’d accepted my grandfather’s reasons for bequeathing the bookshop to us and not them. ’
‘Hmm.’ Florrie couldn’t argue with that.
She turned her gaze back to the sea, mulling over Ed’s words.
His parents had definitely gone unexpectedly quiet after a sustained and relentless bombardment that included browbeating phone calls, demanding that Ed hand over the bookshop to them, telling him in no uncertain terms they were the rightful owners.
At one point, they’d even enlisted the help of local unsavoury businessman, Dodgy Dick, to assist with their fight.
But Florrie had just put them going quiet down to them finally getting the message that she and Ed were going to respect his grandfather’s wishes and retain ownership of the bookshop.
That said, there’d always been a doubt lurking at the back of her mind that it could be resurrected at any moment.
After all, they’d gone quiet before, and then all the tiresome drama had started up again when they’d got wind that Jack Playforth had signed a deal with his publishing house to write his autobiography.
They’d taken exception to it, objecting in numerous aggressive tirades, saying that by giving Jack the go ahead to include mention of The Happy Hartes Bookshop in the telling of his story, it would risk exposing the Harte name to scandal.
It was only in recent years that Jack had discovered the identity of his birth mother and, even more intriguingly, that Mr and Mrs H had been involved in his secret ‘adoption’ by a childless couple.
Teenager Jean Davenport had fallen pregnant, the father of her unborn child having washed his hands of her.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, her parents had threatened to disown her if she kept the baby.
Devastated, Jean had confided in Dinah Harte, who, together with her husband, had stepped in and found Jack a loving home with a couple they knew who’d been desperate for a child for years.
The circumstances of Jack’s ‘adoption’ had remained a secret until he’d traced a family connection back to Micklewick Bay.
But what nobody knew was that Peter Harte had overheard his parents discussing Jack’s ‘adoption’ one evening when he was still living at home.
He’d been outraged, accusing them of taking the law into their own hands and telling them to never breathe a word of it to another living soul; he’d never be able to live with the shame if the details got out.
Knowing that Jack’s impending autobiography would reveal this long-kept secret, he and Dawn had done all they could to get Ed and Florrie to refuse Jack’s request for full disclosure, saying it would cause untold damage to the Harte name.
They’d finally had to accept defeat and their anger had eventually fizzled out.
Which is why Dawn’s unexpected arrival had put Florrie on high alert.
After all, it was more than a year since they’d last had any drama from his parents; the longest they’d gone since Ed and Florrie had taken the reins of the bookshop.
It made her wonder if they were regrouping, checking the lie of the land before one final attempt at getting their hands on the bookshop.
That thought sent a spike of alarm shooting through her.
She wouldn’t put it past them deliberately resurrecting their campaign again just before the wedding.
No doubt thinking their son and Florrie would be too distracted to be aware of what was going on under their noses.
‘My mum did mention something that’s got me… um… well… thinking…’ The cautious note in Ed’s voice didn’t escape Florrie. She turned to face him, her whole body tense.
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah, I can’t remember her exact words’ – Ed scratched his head – ‘but having slept on it, it has made me wonder if she’s come here to test the water about maybe…’ He paused for what felt to Florrie like an age.
‘About maybe…?’ If she could’ve physically dragged the words out of her mild-mannered fiancé, she would.
‘It’s just a thought, and I’m sure I’m on the wrong path, so please try not to get stressed about it…’ It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Florrie. He gulped audibly and took another pause that seemed to go on even longer than the first.
Argh, Ed! Spit it out! Florrie felt ready to pop at any moment. Didn’t he realise those words were guaranteed to get anyone stressed out? ‘You’ve got me really worried now, Ed.’
‘Sorry.’ He winced. ‘It’s just, with some of the things she’s been saying, it made me wonder if she and my father were toying with the idea of… of moving to Micklewick Bay.’
His words slammed into her, leaving her too stunned to speak, the implications charging around her mind. Ed’s parents, moving here? Please, no! If this were true, then their peaceful, happy existence was over.
Their eyes met, and Florrie saw her fears reflected back in his.