Chapter 18 #2
‘Well, you hoped in vain. It was like the lovechild of Mr Potato Head and some mythical sea creature! Not pretty. Oh, and remind me again how you explained away the fact that you’d given me a moustache?’
Stella was laughing so hard, she was bent double. ‘Same reason as the third eye. I’d had to rub something out; it left a bit of a shadow.’
‘Yeah, you’re not wrong – a five o’clock shadow,’ quipped Jasmine.
‘And that’s not the worst of it, Mags.’ Jasmine reached over and tapped Maggie’s hand for emphasis.
‘The teacher only went and put it up on the wall in the entrance area with all the other portraits for the whole school to see. And some of the kids even guessed it was me! Can you believe that? Scarred me for life, it did.’
‘Oh my days, Jazz, you really need to stop before I piddle my pants,’ said Maggie, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
‘What is it with you lot and your bladders? Don’t you ever think of popping to the loo before you leave the house?’ Jasmine shook her head.
‘My bladder still isn’t right since I had Lucy, so I’ve got an excuse,’ said Maggie. ‘What’s your excuse, Stells?’
‘On that happy note, shall we go and choose something to paint?’ Florrie pushed her chair back and stood up, her cheeks aching from laughing so hard.
‘I think that’s a very good idea,’ agreed Stella, still chuckling.
‘Me too,’ said Jasmine.
A few minutes later, Florrie returned to the table with a chunky mug, as did Jasmine, while Stella had chosen a small tea plate and was muttering something about not having a clue how she was going to decorate it. Florrie couldn’t help but laugh at the face her friend was pulling.
They’d just got settled in their seats when Pippa arrived, detailing her instructions and sharing tips in a cheerful manner, explaining that they needed to keep it in mind that the paint colour would deepen once their pots were fired.
‘I think that’s everything,’ she said. ‘Enjoy yourselves, ladies, and shout up if you have any questions.’ That done, the friends selected their paint and tools in a babble of excitable chatter, Florrie deciding to go for a simple design of a sky-blue background with large dots in contrasting shades.
Lark picked up the conversation Stella had started earlier. ‘So, Florrie, what’s been happening? I’m sure I saw Dawn head into the bookshop this morning. Looked like she was chatting to a tall woman – I got the impression they were together.’
Florrie’s happiness of moments ago scattered and her mood sank like a lead weight.
She glanced around the room to make sure no one would be able to hear their conversation.
Noting that the level of background music and chatter would make it difficult for anyone to eavesdrop, she took a fortifying breath.
‘Well, you’re right about both things. Dawn did come into the bookshop, and she was with the tall woman; it was Ed’s ex-girlfriend, Luella, and – I can hardly believe I’m saying this – Dawn had invited her to Micklewick Bay.
’ Saying it out loud made the situation sound even more ridiculous.
A collective gasp ran around the table. Lark’s hand flew to her mouth as Stella tutted and shook her head.
‘Why would she do that?’ Lark asked.
‘You could ask the same of everything she and her husband have done right through Ed’s life,’ Florrie said wryly.
‘Fair point,’ agreed Stella.
Florrie swallowed as she went on to share what had happened since their Friday catch-up at the Jolly. By the time she’d finished, her stomach was in knots. She swept her gaze around the table to see four stunned faces looking back at her.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ said Maggie in disbelief. ‘I mean, are they for real?’
‘I thought they’d finally accepted that Mr H had wanted you and Ed to have the bookshop. Didn’t they tell you as much well over a year ago?’ asked Stella.
Florrie nodded. ‘They did – well, Peter told Ed when he went to see him in London two Christmases back.’
‘Says exactly what sort of people they are that they decide to resurrect it just weeks before you’re due to get married.
And if that’s not bad enough, they stoop even lower and drag an ex-girlfriend into it, hoping to tempt Ed away from you.
’ Jasmine shook her head in disgust, her cheeks flushing angrily.
‘He’s their son, for God’s sake! Who does that? ’
‘They’ve really gone too far this time, Florrie.
’ Lark gave her a sympathetic look. ‘They’re beginning to sound deluded.
’ These were strong words coming from Lark who rarely said anything bad about anyone.
‘But it’s reassuring to hear Ed’s standing up to them, leaving them in no doubt that you’re not going to be bullied or manipulated into doing what they want.
And that it’s you he loves. I hope that makes you feel better? ’
Florrie nodded. ‘It does, actually. It seems different from before, when he used to go quiet and ignore their calls, or – worse – disappear. He faced them head-on this time which will, hopefully, make them back off.’
‘I’d love to help them back off, send the old witch packing out of town as fast as her broomstick can carry her.’ Jasmine’s eyes shone angrily. ‘Mind, there’s somewhere I’d like to shove it first.’ The look of utter distaste on Jasmine’s face made the friends laugh.
‘Oh, Jazz, I do love you,’ said Florrie, her heart filling with affection for her friend.
‘Just know we’re here for you if you need us. I’m happy to nip over to the bookshop if Dawn or this Luella turn up; I don’t want you to have to deal with them on your own,’ said Lark.
‘Same here,’ added Jasmine. ‘I’d be more than happy to down tools and come and give you some moral support.’
‘Me too,’ said Maggie.
‘Much as I’d really love to, I think I’d struggle to get Judge Hoskinson to adjourn the trial while I race over here from York. I’ll be with you in spirit, though.’
‘Thanks, lasses,’ said Florrie.
‘Oh, Jazz, that looks gorgeous!’ Lark exclaimed, looking over at the mug Jasmine had in front of her, clearly sensitive to the dip in Florrie’s mood.
‘It’s really pretty, Jazz, you’re so creative.’ Florrie took in the bold-coloured poppies Jasmine had painted onto the mug, grateful to have attention directed away from her and the chance of a change of subject.
‘Come on then, Stells, let’s see your efforts.’ Maggie peered over the table and let out a loud guffaw. ‘Oh, wow!’
‘What the bloomin’ ’eck is it?’ asked Jasmine, who was sitting beside Stella.
‘I don’t mean to be unkind, but I’m not sure.’ Lark stretched her neck, her brows drawn together. ‘Is it meant to be a face?’
Stella held up the plate she’d been painting, showing it around for them all to see. It was met with much squinting and head tilting as the friends tried to work out what it was.
‘Oh no! Stella’s portraits strike again,’ said Florrie.
‘If you close one eye and squint, it has an almost Daliesque quality to it.’ The corners of Maggie’s mouth twitched with amusement.
‘You think?’ asked Lark, not sounding quite so sure.
‘Lark’s right, it’s a person – slightly offended you can’t tell who, though. Thought the bright red hair would give it away,’ said Stella, perusing her handiwork. ‘Thought I’d have another go at painting Jazz, see if my artistic skills have improved over the last twenty or so years.’
‘No way! This is victimisation! My feelings are in tatters.’ Jazz feigned outrage.
‘And if you’re comparing me to a creative genius like Salvador Dali, then I guess I have my answer.’ Stella treated them to a wide grin. ‘Good to know if my career fails at the bar, then I can always fall back onto my art.’
‘I suggest you do all you can to make sure your legal career never fails,’ Florrie joked.
‘I’ll second that,’ quipped Jasmine, as the group fell into more hilarity.
‘It sounds like you were all enjoying yourselves earlier,’ said Pippa, smiling. The friends were standing at the counter of Pippa’s Paint Pots, settling up for their session.
‘We were, it was brilliant. And the hot chocolates are to die for,’ said Florrie.
‘That’s good to hear, thank you. I hope to see you again.’
Out on the street, the chilly air, nipping at their cheeks, stood in stark contrast to the warmth of Pippa’s shop.
‘Thanks for organising such a fab evening, lasses. I’ve loved every minute.’ Florrie beamed round at them, her eyes shining with happiness.
‘And the good news is, it’s not over yet,’ said Jasmine, her hair glowing red under the vintage streetlight. ‘We’re heading back to Stells’ place where we’re going to stuff our faces with pizza and cheesy garlic bread from Pepe and Chiara’s.’
‘Really?’ Florrie was delighted to hear this.
‘Really,’ said Stella. ‘I’m going to drive us all back to my apartment where we’ll order the pizzas and garlic bread and get it delivered. And, best of all, Jazz has made one of her wickedly indulgent chocolate cakes for pudding.’
‘Mm-hm. To steal the title of Jenna’s latest book, you had me at chocolate cake.’ Florrie grinned.