Chapter 8
EIGHT
‘Right then, folks, climb aboard.’ Maggie grabbed the handle of the Land Rover’s heavy rear door, pulling it wide open. Bear had parked up in a space opposite Samphire Cottage while his wife had nipped across the road to let Florrie and Ed know they’d arrived.
‘Thanks, Mags.’ Florrie climbed in to see Lark and Nate sitting side by side on one of the benches that acted as rear seating and was rather basic by all accounts.
The couple were wearing wide smiles. ‘Hi, folks,’ she said as she slid along the bench opposite, tucking her backpack containing her change of clothes between her feet. Ed followed suit.
‘Hi, both,’ said Lark.
‘Now then,’ said Nate, offering a Yorkshire greeting.
‘All right?’ Bear called from the driver’s seat. ‘Are you both belted up?’
‘Yep, we’re good to go,’ said Ed, clicking his seatbelt in the dock. With that, Bear put the vehicle into gear and pulled out onto the road, setting Florrie’s heart pumping with anticipation.
‘So, Mags, are you going to tell me what you lot have got planned for today? My mind’s been in overdrive, wondering what we’re going to be doing since I first opened my eyes.
’ Florrie held back from saying how it wasn’t the only thing that had occupied her thoughts.
Dawn Harte had taken up a huge chunk of them.
Since Ed’s mum had driven off on Friday night, they hadn’t heard a peep from her, which had been worrying.
Florrie couldn’t help but think the woman would be plotting and scheming somewhere in Micklewick Bay.
Ed had offered a modicum of relief when Florrie had asked if he knew why they hadn’t heard from her.
‘Much as she was never bothered about our home being a tip when I was growing up, she was always very picky about hotel rooms or anywhere else she and my dad stayed. She’ll be that busy going round town, inspecting all the B they help with stress levels.
Thought you could do with them. And here’s a lavender and chamomile pulse point for you to use whenever you need it.
’ She smiled, the look in her eyes was telling.
Lark was a great believer in the healing power of crystals and aromatherapy and sold an extensive range in Lark’s Vintage Bazaar.
She regularly bestowed gifts on her friends when they were in times of need.
Even ever sceptical Jasmine now swore by their benefits after she’d put them to use during a particularly tumultuous time last year.
The bracelet would be to offer Florrie support and protection during Dawn’s visit.
And, boy, did Florrie get the feeling she was going to need it.
‘You need to make yourself comfy, Florrie – well, as comfy as you can on the rock-hard bench seats of a Landie – we’re in for a bit of a drive,’ Maggie piped up from the front.
‘Oh? Don’t suppose there’s a chance you can tell me where we’re heading?’
‘Nope. ’Fraid not.’ Maggie turned and grinned. ‘All I’ll say is that the others are meeting us there.’
‘Helpful.’ Florrie caught Ed’s eye and giggled. He gave her a wink and an affectionate nudge of the shoulder. ‘S’alright for you, you’re in on where we’re going, which doesn’t seem fair somehow,’ she said good-naturedly.
Forty-five minutes later, Bear followed the route through the tasteful Georgian market town of Middleton-le-Moors, continuing along the winding road, the scenery becoming more rural and undulating as they drew closer to the turn-off for the North Yorkshire Moors.
Light-hearted conversation filled the Landie, bubbling away and interspersed with copious amounts of laughter as old memories were relived.
They landed on how the friends had teased Florrie mercilessly about their plans for the hen party while they were at the Jolly on Friday night.
‘Ah, fellas, I wish you could’ve been there. Florrie’s face was a right picture when Stells mentioned Ando and Lobster Harry joining forces as a strippagram,’ Maggie had said, causing them all to fall about laughing.
‘I heard you’d said something about Ando incorporating his pickled eggs into the routine,’ Bear had added, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
‘Oh, man, please stop before the terrifying mental image that’s forced its way into my mind is permanently scorched there,’ Nate had said, shaking his head.
‘Aye, it’d be the talk of the town for a fair bit of time afterwards, that’s for sure,’ Bear had chuckled, the Landie rumbling on.
They’d been laughing so hard, Florrie’s cheeks were still aching when Bear slowed the Land Rover in readiness to take a corner.
She peered through the gap in the window between Lark and Nate, her brow crumpling in puzzlement as she noted the signpost for the villages of Danskelfe, Lytell Stangdale and Arkleby.
The last time she’d been in this neck of the woods, she’d been taking Jasmine to Danskelfe Castle for her appointment with Lady Carolyn Hammondely to discuss the possibility of Jazz becoming their permanent wedding-cake maker.
It had been the start of a much-welcome change in her friend’s fortunes.
Jazz had gone from baking celebration cakes as a side hustle to her two part-time jobs working in the local bakery as well as working shifts for the cleaning company owned by Stella’s mum, Alice, to being a full-time wedding-cake maker.
It was a role she loved, and she hadn’t had a moment’s regret.
Clocking Florrie’s confused expression, Lark gave a gentle smile. ‘We’ll be there soon.’
‘Still can’t tell you though,’ added Maggie as the Land Rover rattled noisily over a cattle grid.
‘I have to say I’m intrigued as to why you’d be bringing Ed and me out here for a joint hen and stag party celebration, and I’ve honestly no idea what it could be,’ Florrie said, catching snatches of the stunning scenery as they drove by.
Vast swathes of moorland merged with the patchwork fields of farmland, edged with drystone walls and hawthorn hedges and punctuated by cosy looking farmsteads.
Bear braked to allow a huddle of free-roaming sheep to amble their way across the road as if they had all the time in the world.
‘Hurry up, ladies, we have somewhere we need to be,’ said Bear, as one of the ewes stopped in the middle of the road, masticating slowly as it stared him out.
Maggie turned from her place in the front passenger seat, a look on her face that said mischief. Florrie had seen it many times before. ‘All I’ll say about us bringing you out here is that I hope you like pigs.’
‘Pigs?’ asked Florrie, incredulous. ‘Why pigs?’ She flicked a questioning look Ed’s way, hoping to read his expression, but he was just laughing, as was Lark.
‘Pigs are fabulous,’ said Bear, a deep chuckle rumbling up through his chest.
‘Being the son of a farmer, you’re bound to think that,’ said Florrie dryly.
‘Fair point,’ Bear conceded.
‘I suppose we’re nearly there so I might as well tell you,’ said Maggie. ‘We’re going – brace yourself – pig herding! Ta-da!’ She made jazz hands, a wide smile on her face.
‘What?’ Florrie asked, glancing around at everyone, wondering if she’d heard right.
Bear gave a couple of oinks, making everyone but Florrie laugh some more – her brain was too busy scrabbling about and trying to work out what pig herding would involve.
It sounded messy and chaotic, and she was overwhelmed by the sinking feeling that it was something she wouldn’t enjoy.
Surely, it was another wind up? But, then again, they were driving through the countryside where there would no doubt be pig farms aplenty, so it did lend an element of truth to Maggie’s words.
And if they really were supposed to be herding pigs, how big would the said pigs be exactly?
She bit down on a sigh as some vague memory of a countryside television programme she used to watch with Mr H told her they could be quite large creatures, not to mention occasionally bad-tempered.
Oh, please no. One thing was for sure, she didn’t fancy getting on the wrong side of an angry pig that was bigger than her!