Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
‘How’s your father doing, lovey?’ Jean asked, handing Florrie a mug of tea. The bookshop had been busy all morning and they were taking advantage of a quiet spell before they were hit with the lunchtime rush.
‘Thanks, I’m ready for this.’ Florrie took the mug and set it down on the counter.
‘My mum said he was feeling a bit better when I spoke to her last night. The doctor diagnosed him with labyrinthitis and prescribed some antibiotics which should, hopefully, kick in soon.’ She gestured, crossing her fingers.
‘Looks like he’ll be off work for a while, though, which he’s not happy about. ’
‘That I can believe.’ Jean chuckled. ‘Well, at least he knows what’s wrong with him now.’
‘I just hope he’ll be better in time for the wedding. Apparently, the doctor told him it could take up to six weeks to be fully recovered.’
‘Ooh, goodness, that is a long time. Mind, knowing your dad, he’ll be right as rain before you know it.’ Jean gave her a reassuring tap on the arm. ‘He’s in good hands being looked after by your mum. She’ll have him back on his feet well before he needs to walk you down the aisle.’
‘I hope so.’ It was another thing to add to her worries. ‘Mum said she’d push him down in one of his wheelbarrows if necessary.’
‘That would be worth seeing.’ Jean’s hearty chuckles made Florrie laugh, too.
The two women were alone in the bookshop since it was Leah’s day off and Ed had taken Gerty for a walk and was picking up some glue at the local DIY store while he was out – apparently it was something he needed for the display.
There’d been no sign of Dawn that morning and Ed said he hadn’t heard from her.
Florrie was torn between feeling relieved that his mum wasn’t there and unease, wondering what she’d do next.
On paper, it seemed wrong that she was happy for her mum to have a key to Samphire Cottage, yet felt beyond irritated that Dawn had managed to get her hands on one.
But those who knew their backstory would fully understand Florrie’s misgivings.
There was also the fact that Florrie had bought the property before she’d met Ed and it was still in her sole name – it was something she was keen to rectify once they’d got married, unless they decided to move, which was something they’d touched on once or twice.
She’d given both her parents a key right at the start, telling her dad to hang on to the one he’d used to let himself in while he was doing the building work on it and Florrie was still living at home with her parents.
Dawn, on the other hand, had never wanted anything to do with Florrie, and hadn’t spoken two words directly to her until she’d turned up at the bookshop last Friday.
‘How about her majesty?’ asked Jean. There was no love lost between Jean and Ed’s parents either.
Florrie rolled her eyes and updated her friend on the events of the previous day, Jean’s expression morphing from disbelief to outrage.
‘She has no business coming in here and taking over! It’s not five minutes since she and her husband were trying to browbeat you and Ed into selling the place and giving them the proceeds.
It was disgraceful! Bernard’ll be turning in his grave.
She’s up to something, mark my words. You need to watch her, lovey. ’
Florrie’s heart lurched. Jean had vocalised her own concerns.
‘As you know, Bernard rarely used to speak about the situation with his son and daughter-in-law, but on the occasions he did, he used to say that he got the impression Dawn worked away behind the scenes, pulling the strings while Peter did most of the talking.’ Jean took a slow sip of her tea, thoughtful for a moment.
‘Does make me wonder why Dawn’s suddenly planted herself at the centre of things. It’s very much out of character.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,’ said Florrie. Though it was good to know she wasn’t being paranoid, it only added weight to her fears about Dawn’s reasons for being in the town.
‘All I know is that they’re a right toxic pair, her and her husband, and I wouldn’t trust either of them as far as I could throw them.’
Florrie couldn’t argue with that.
Their conversation was brought to an end by the return of Ed and Gerty. Fresh salty air clung to the pair of them. Ed was ruddy-cheeked while the Labrador was panting. Once released from her lead, she trotted off to the kitchen, no doubt to avail herself of the water bowl that was kept in there.
‘That’s what I call good timing, young Edward.’ Jean beamed at him. ‘There’s some fresh tea in the pot; I’ll just go and pour you a mug.’
‘I’ll go, there’s no need for you to trouble yourself, Jean.’
‘It’s no trouble, lovey. Two ticks.’ She set her mug down on the counter and headed off to the kitchen.
‘Good walk?’ Florrie asked, looking up at him, his blue eyes shining from the exercise.
‘Bracing.’ He grinned, pulling off his gloves and stuffing them into his pockets.
‘Did you manage to get what you needed from the DIY store?’
‘I did. And you might be surprised to hear I finally caught up with my mother. Got my key back, too.’ The way he hitched his eyebrows suggested he shared Florrie’s surprise.
‘Oh, right.’ This was good news. ‘Did she say why she didn’t come back to the shop?’
‘She did.’ Ed nodded, unravelling his scarf from round his neck.
‘Apparently, after she’d taken delivery of the kettle, she’d gone for a walk and bumped into someone she used to know.
They got talking which led to them organising a meal for later in the evening so they could continue their catch-up.
Would you believe this person – it’s a woman, by the way – is on holiday here in Micklewick Bay?
What’s the chances of her being here at the same time as my mother, not to mention them bumping into one another?
Talk about a coincidence.’ Ed gave a chuckle as he unbuttoned his jacket.
Myriad thoughts raced around Florrie’s mind, questioning if it really was a coincidence, wondering as to the identity of the person.
She was thankful they could rule out local unsavoury businessman Dodgy Dick who Ed’s parents had at one time enlisted to wage a campaign of bullying and intimidation in the hope of forcing Ed and Florrie to hand over the bookshop; he was local and had lived here all his life.
And besides, the last she’d heard, he and one of his equally undesirable colleagues were doing a stint in prison.
Yet something about this set a niggle gnawing away in the pit of her stomach.
‘I wonder who it was?’ she said, thinking it was better to keep her thoughts to herself for now.
‘She didn’t say. When she eventually answered her phone, I told her I needed my key, so she agreed to meet me on the top prom so she could hand it over.
She was in a bit of a rush, said she didn’t have time to stop and chat, so any forthcoming information was sparse.
Oh, and she’s still at her original B didn’t say why she hadn’t moved to a different one and I forgot to ask. ’
Florrie wondered if it all sounded as odd to Ed as it did to her.
Her gut was telling her something was off, and her gut had never let her down yet.
As if sensing her concerns, Ed pulled her into his arms, hugging her close and dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
Florrie inhaled the scent of fresh sea air that was still clinging to him, felt the chill of it on his clothing.
‘Here you go, Ed, lovey.’ Jean returned, all smiles with a mug in her hand. ‘It’s still nice and hot.’
‘Thanks, Jean.’ Ed flashed her a grateful smile as he released Florrie from his embrace and took the mug. ‘So, how’re things going with you and Amery, if you don’t mind me asking?’ He blew on his tea, his eyes peering over at her questioningly.
Florrie watched as Jean’s cheeks flushed pink and her eyes lit up. ‘Well, I don’t mind telling you he’s the perfect gentleman and has lovely old-fashioned manners.’ Florrie hadn’t seen her friend look so animated before.
‘I’d expect nothing less of the man who’s stepping out with our lovely Jean,’ said Ed.
‘Same here,’ Florrie added.
Jean gave them a warm smile. ‘I think I mentioned we used to know one another many years ago, and I don’t mind admitting I used to have quite a crush on him when I was a young lass – most of the girls at school did – but he was a couple of years above me so he was completely oblivious to my existence! ’ She giggled at that.
‘I kind of get the impression that’s changed quite a bit,’ Florrie said, her eyes soft with affection for her friend.
‘I was surprised he even remembered me, to be honest,’ Jean said bashfully.
‘So, when’s Amery next wining and dining you?’ Ed asked.
‘Well, he’s coming to Jack and Jenna’s reading on Thursday – he bought that ticket Josie Bedford had to return with her having to go in for her operation, poor lass – and he’s booked us a table at Oscar’s Bistro for afterwards.’ Jean glanced between them, unable to contain her smiles.
‘How lovely.’ Florrie’s grin was almost as wide as Jean’s. She was thrilled at the prospect of her friend enjoying a bit of romance. ‘What’s wrong?’ She was taken aback to see Jean’s smile had suddenly fallen.
‘The only thing is, I haven’t told him about Jack and… and how I had to give him up.’ She cast a troubled glance between them. ‘I’m worried he might think I’m a terrible person and hate me for it. Goodness knows, I hated myself for it long enough.’
‘Oh, Jean, I’m sure he won’t hate you.’ Florrie reached over and rested her hand on her friend’s arm. ‘I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t feel anything but compassion for what you went through, don’t you agree, Ed?’