Chapter 7
SEVEN
‘What the flippin’—?’ Ed exclaimed, knocking his chair over with a clatter.
‘Jack! It’s good to see you.’ With her face burning, Florrie went to gather the plates together, doing all she could to sound casual, and acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Though it was impossible to ignore the tingle in her lips left by Ed’s meaningful kisses.
‘Aye, but I’m not so sure your young fella would agree.’ The author laughed, nodding in Ed’s direction.
‘Hey, it’s always good to see you, Jack. Mind, I won’t argue, your timing could’ve been a little, shall we say, better?’ Ed grinned, having composed himself, setting his chair straight while Jack continued to chuckle.
‘Ey, lad, there’s nowt up with my timing.
’ He pushed the sleeve of his jacket back and looked at his watch.
‘Ah, apologies, you’re absolutely right, it’s twenty past eleven; I’m a smidge early.
Would you like me to come back in ten minutes, so you can carry on with your “break”?
’ He put finger quotes around the word, his eyes twinkling teasingly.
‘Jen’s in the shop, chatting weddings to my mother, so I could always go and join them. ’
Now he’d mentioned it, Florrie could hear snatches of his fiancée’s melodic Geordie accent floating through from the bookshop as she chatted away enthusiastically.
Ed shook his head, laughing. ‘No, you’re fine to stay, Jack. The moment’s gone.’
‘Sorry about that,’ said Jack, the mischief in his eyes at odds with his apologetic expression. ‘Just call me Passion-Killer Playforth; wouldn’t be the first time.’
Ed chuckled while Florrie directed her gaze anywhere but Jack’s way, the heat in her cheeks showing no evidence it was going to calm down any time soon. Reserved by nature, Florrie wasn’t one for public displays of affection, even if they were inadvertent.
‘Don’t suppose there’s any tea going spare in that pot, is there, lass?
’ Jack asked in his broad North Yorkshire accent.
He was evidently keen to move the conversation on and help disperse Florrie’s embarrassment.
‘We’ve had a right busy morning – I’ll leave it to Jenna to tell you all about it – but it’s left me gagging for a cup of tea. ’
‘’Course, there’s plenty.’ Florrie smiled, her embarrassment ebbing away. ‘I’ll pour a mug for Jenna, too. We can take our drinks through to the reading room, have our chat there.’
‘Grand, I’d be grateful if you’d chuck in a biscuit or two, an’ all. All this wedding talk hasn’t ’alf got me famished as well as parched,’ Jack added with a grin.
Jack’s down-to-earth personality belied the fact he was a nationally revered author whose books had hit the Sunday Times bestsellers list several times over – his fiancée, Jenna’s, too.
She had a loyal following of readers, not to mention a book that had been optioned for a successful television series, with talks of yet more in the pipeline.
Since the couple had moved to the town, they held regular author readings and book signings at the bookshop.
The events were always a huge draw, not least because of their matching self-deprecating sense of humour that spilled over into copious giggles, much to the audience’s delight.
Indeed, Jack had announced their engagement at one such reading last year, when his comical description of him getting down on one knee had the audience crying tears of laughter.
Florrie followed Ed and Jack into the shop, relieved that the air between her and her fiancé was so much lighter after their chat.
Jean caught Florrie’s eye and the knowing smile that passed between them confirmed Florrie’s suspicions: Jean had clearly had a subtle word with Ed about his mother’s motives for turning up so out of the blue.
She understood that Ed might not have realised that Florrie would need some reassurance.
Florrie gave a smile and a quick lift of her eyebrows in acknowledgement.
It was fair to say Jean wasn’t Dawn and Peter Harte’s biggest fan, and not just because of how they’d treated Mr and Mrs H, blocking all contact for decades.
She’d also witnessed the negative effect they’d had on Florrie and Ed’s relationship, and she seemed determined not to allow it to happen again.
‘Florrie, pet, it’s good to see you,’ Jenna said in her singsong voice, her softly highlighted hair framing her friendly face that was wreathed in smiles.
In her mid-forties, she was over ten years younger than Jack.
‘I can’t wait to tell you our news.’ She rushed over to Florrie and pulled her into a hug, delivering a noisy kiss to her cheek.
Her enthusiasm was infectious and Florrie couldn’t help but smile back. ‘Hiya, Jenna. Don’t tell me, you and Jack have set a date for your wedding?’ Florrie knew Jenna had been desperate to get a date fixed, and, unlike Florrie, the author was keen for a big, all-singing, all-dancing, elaborate do.
‘Aye, that we have. I’ve just been telling Jean here our big day’s been booked at Danskelfe Castle for the twelfth of June next year – I know it seems a long way off, but that was the first date they had free for the bigger wedding package.
The venue’s gorgeous, which is why it’s massively in demand, but we really wanted to have our wedding there, so we’re happy to wait.
And, of course, we’ll have one of Jazz’s gorgeous wedding cakes.
We’ve booked a follow-up appointment at the castle to discuss things in greater detail, like catering, flowers, décor of the dining room, music and so forth.
I’m so excited!’ Jenna said, rubbing her hands together enthusiastically, her exuberance bubbling over.
‘Can’t say we’d noticed,’ Jack said dryly, though the happiness that danced across his face told them he was as thrilled as Jenna.
‘Well, I’m chuffed to bits for both of you, I’ve heard how amazing they are,’ Florrie said.
And much as she genuinely meant it, hearing all that was involved in organising a wedding on such a big scale only served to make her glad she and Ed had been in full agreement that a low-key ceremony was more their style.
Jenna’s high-spirited personality, not to mention her huge family with endless cousins, and wide circle of friends, was far better suited to something more elaborate.
‘Me too,’ said Ed. ‘And at least it’ll give you plenty of time to find a suitable hat, Jean.’ He grinned at her, making her chuckle.
‘Eee, we could go shopping together, Jean. I know this totally fab shop in Newcastle that sells the most amazing headwear. We could stay over, make a real treat of it,’ Jenna enthused.
‘And I’ve noted you’re wearing your new desert boots we bought on our last shopping trip – they look awesome on you, pet! ’
‘Thank you, lovey.’ Jean beamed. ‘I have to say, they’re very comfy.’
‘Bet you wish you’d bought the apple-green pair as well now, don’t you? But no worries, we can pop back to the shop the next time you and me have a girls’ weekend in the Toon. In fact, let’s get one in the diary after Jack and me have finished our meeting.’
Jack hooted with laughter at his fiancée’s enthusiasm. ‘By ’eck, you don’t hang around, do you, lass?’
‘Not a blinkin’ chance.’ Jenna treated him to one of her warm smiles.
To say Jenna could be something of a whirlwind when she was excited would be an understatement. Florrie didn’t know about Jean, but she sometimes felt like she needed a moment to catch her breath when Jenna was on a roll like this.
They were distracted as the bell above the bookshop door jangled cheerily and a dapper-looking gentleman stepped in.
He was wearing a well-tailored tweed coat and neatly pressed trousers, a pair of highly polished brown shoes on his feet.
The well-groomed look was topped off by a trilby hat set at a jaunty angle.
‘Good morning,’ the gentleman said, casting a warm smile around the group, his kind blue eyes shining.
‘Good morning, Amery,’ said Jean, her face lighting up with a smile. Her hand fluttered to her hair while the apples of her cheeks were suddenly tinted with a blush.
‘Morning, Mr Wallace,’ said Florrie, aware of the others observing with interest as Jean and Amery continued to beam at one another. She was clearly not the only one who could sense the sparks that had started dancing between them.
‘Ey up, what’s this, then?’ Jack said, sotto voce. Florrie slid him a sideways look and a knowing smile.
A chorus of hellos, tinged with more than a hint of curiosity, followed as Jean made her way over to the counter.
‘I’m afraid the book you ordered hasn’t come in yet – we’re expecting it tomorrow – but one came to mind yesterday that I thought you might like.
I took the liberty of setting a copy aside for you.
I hope you don’t mind, but they’ve been selling rather quickly?
R.J. Kingston’s a newly published author but he’s already gaining quite a fanbase.
Dark Night’s been generating a lot of interest here and going from the sort of books you like, I think you’ll enjoy this. ’
‘That’s very kind of you, Jean, I’m always keen to find new authors.
’ Amery came to a stop before the counter where Jean now stood, tipping a friendly nod at Leah who, judging from her smiles, was enjoying this interaction as much as Florrie.
‘Good morning, Leah,’ he said, removing his trilby and revealing a headful of snowy-white hair that was neatly barbered and swept back off a strong forehead.
‘Hi, Mr Wallace.’
Gerty heaved herself out of her bed and waddled over to him, sniffing his trousers.
‘Hello there, Gerty.’ He bent and gave her a pat and was rewarded with a wag of her tail.
Satisfied that he had no dog treats lurking in his pockets, the Labrador lost interest and headed back to her bed where she flopped down with a ‘Hmph’, resting her head on her paws.