‘Give over, Charlie, you daft thing,’ Paula said, laughing, catching Florrie’s eye, an unspoken message conveying their happiness that he was back on form passing between them.
‘Two ticks,’ said Ed. He had a quick check of the sockets where the electrics linked to the display were plugged in, then loosened the ties of the curtains that hid his work. ‘Right, we’re good to go.’ He looked over at Florrie, the pair exchanging an excited smile. This was the first display she’d never had a preview of and she was intrigued to see what it would be. She’d have to wait until the crowd had dispersed before she’d get the chance.
‘Right then, folks, let’s get the evening underway.’ With that, Jack opened the door and stepped out onto the chequered tiles of the bookshop’s entrance. In an instant, a roar went up from the crowd, accompanied by a round of applause and much cheering and whistling.
‘Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming and for your patience.’ But his words were lost in the cacophony. He tried again, this time holding his hands up in a bid for them to quieten down, laughing happily as he did so. ‘Well, that was quite the welcome, but I know it’s not for me, and that you’re all here to see what delights are lurking behind these curtains. And I can tell you this,so are the rest of us here at the bookshop. Ed’s been working on it solidly and none of us has a clue as to the theme. Anyroad, that’s enough of me wittering on, but before we start the countdown, can we make sure we have all the little ’uns at the front so they can see what’s going on?’
In the doorway, Florrie peered over Jack’s shoulder, excitement swirling inside her. Light was already fading as dusk inched its way over the sky. She caught sight of Jasmine and Max, standing behind their mix of kids, Zak, Chloe and Connor. Jasmine beamed a wide smile at her, giving a happy wave, which Florrie returned. As she scanned the crowd, checking for a glimpse of their other friends, her gaze snagged on an unexpected face. Her heart jolted and her breath caught in her throat.Please, no!She blinked quickly, but the face was gone. Her eyes darted back and forth over the crowd, searching the sea of faces that were eagerly looking towards the shop. Had she been seeing things? she wondered. Surely, if she was still in town, Luella wouldn’t have the brass neck to come to the unveiling of the bookshop’s window displays after Ed had been so blunt with her, would she? Florrie would’ve hot-footed it out of town in a blaze of humiliation if an ex had told her in no uncertain terms that they were finished and she was foolish for turning up at his new home. There was no way she’d ever want to look like she was clingy and desperate or feel like some sort of stalker.
But then, there was Peter and Dawn’s influence to factor into this odd situation which was probably why she’d woken with the nagging worry that they were going to make an appearance that evening.It didn’t help that Ed had said he’d heard nothing from either Dawn or Luella all day. She’d at least hoped he’d get word that they’d left town and were heading back to London. Only then would she be able to relax sufficiently for the fingers of concern to loosen their grip and allow her to properly enjoy the evening.
‘Right then, I think we’re all sorted, so, without further ado, I’d be very grateful if you could join me in a countdown.’
Jack’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she made thehurried decision to sweep all concerns of Ed’s parents and Luella from her mind and focus on what he was saying.
‘From five, here we go! Five… four… three… two… one!’
A great roar went up as Ed flicked a switch at the rear of the window on the right-hand side, and the curtain slowly swept back. The anticipation in the air was tangible. It was as if a collective breath was being held as the crowd fell silent, instantly followed by an ‘ahh’ as the full view of the window was revealed, showing Ed’s creative talents in all their glory.
An enthusiastic round of applause rang around the square with yet more cheers and whistles. The mood of the crowd was infectious, and Florrie found her heart dancing with anticipation. It didn’t help that she was certain she kept hearing her name being mentioned out on the street.
But what she couldn’t see from her position in the doorway was that the crowd were gazing upon a bride and groom in miniature form that bore more than a passing resemblance to her and Ed. The bride, whose brunette bob was a carbon copy of Florrie’s, was wearing a pair of tortoiseshell glasses and was dressed in an empire line, floor-length gown in ivory silk, the short sleeves and neckline finished with an antique gold braid trim. Mini Florrie’s bouquet was made of paper roses, their petals cut from the pages of damaged books that Ed had retrieved from the skip for paper at the recycling centre in Lingthorpe. He’d even fixed a diamanté tiara to her head, the faux diamonds twinkling in the light. The ‘couple’ were standing at opposite ends of the window before a backdrop that included a scaled-down version of the bookshop’s frontage. It was set against a background of Thorncliffe, a bright blue sky above with occasional puffy white clouds. Clifftop Cottage – home to Maggie and Bear – was visible on the fields of the cliff, and even the Jolly was included, nestling in Old Micklewick –where the couple were holding their wedding reception. Ed had skilfully managed to include great detail without making the backdrop look cluttered or clumsy. Standing between ‘Florrie’ and ‘Ed’ was a blackLabrador who was a dead ringer for Gerty, a basket of spring flowers clenched between her teeth.
Seconds later, the bride and groom started to move slowly towards one another, the sound of church bells chiming joyfully in the background. ‘Gerty’s’ tail began to wag as her head bobbed up and down. With the Labrador between them, the bride and groom came to a halt before bending towards one another and sealing the scene with a lingering kiss. In that moment, a cascade of faux rose petal confetti started to fall from above.
The next moment, the loudest roar of the evening rang out, the happy sound ricocheting off the buildings and bouncing around the square.
Jack, who’d been watching the display from the side of the window, turned to Ed. ‘By ’eck, I reckon you’ve excelled yourself there, lad. Your missus-to-be is going to be chuffed to bits with it.’ Switching his gaze to Florrie, he said, ‘Wait till you see this, it’s nowt short of bloomin’ fantastic.’
Florrie’s heart skipped a beat. She looked across at Ed who was wearing the widest smile. She knew he’d secretly be relieved that everything had gone without a hitch. ‘Go and take a quick look; it’s already on repeat, but I can set it to play from the start,’ he said to her, the remote control poised in his hand.
‘Are you sure? I don’t want to delay the reveal of the other window.’
‘Get yourself out here, lass, no one’ll mind,’ said Jack. In his next breath, he addressed the crowd, gesturing for them to lower their voices, which took a while. ‘I think we all know, the bride and groom in the window here are The Happy Hartes Bookshop’s very own Florrie and Ed, however, as I mentioned earlier, our Florrie hasn’t seen it yet with all the cloak and dagger secrecy during its creation. She’s been waiting here like patience personified, so I’m sure you kind folk of Micklewick Bay wouldn’t mind if she came out here and took a quick shuftie right now, am I right?’
His question triggered a cacophony of words of agreement mixed with calls of ‘Florrie!Florrie! Florrie!’
Jack held out his hand to her. Feeling suddenly bashful at being the subject of everyone’s attention, she took it and let him lead her outside as a chorus of ‘I’m Getting Married in the Morning’ struck up from the gathering. Feeling her cheeks burn, she stepped out onto the pavement and turned to face the window just as Ed pressed the button for the moving parts to start from the beginning.
Florrie watched the scene play out, pressing her hands to her chest, a gasp escaping her mouth. ‘Oh wow!’ She laughed, delighted to see herself and Ed in scaled-down form. ‘It’sfantastic!’ After the festive displays he’d created last Christmas, with everyone saying they were his best yet, she couldn’t imagine how Ed was ever going to top them, but this, with its personal message, had done just that. ‘Oh, look, Gerty’s there, too.’ Her eyes dancing with happiness, Florrie took in the detail of the mini Labrador’s gold braided collar made from the same trim that featured on mini Florrie’s dress, the colourful spring blooms in the basket Gerty was holding, not to mention the dog’s shining amber eyes, so like the real thing.
‘Pretty amazing, isn’t it?’ said Jack beside her. ‘He’s a talented lad.’
‘It is amazing, and he is.’ In that moment she found herself wishing Mr and Mrs H were here to see it; she knew they’d be in raptures over their grandson’s artistic flair and imaginative creations. They’d have lavished praise on him, their faces glowing with pride. They were the polar opposite of his parents who, Ed had told her, used to refer to him as useless and disappointing. The scars of those words were still visible today, though it gladdened Florrie’s heart to know that they were gradually fading.
A frown fleetingly troubled her brow as it crossed her mind that it was a shame his mum and dad didn’t feel able to visit the town without an agenda, that they let their bitterness cloud their view such that it stopped them from seeing their son’s talent, and taking pride in him and the praise his work received. Surely they would get enormous pleasure from that? But now, she told herself,wasn’t the time to dwell on Peter and Dawn Harte. There was another window to be revealed and an author reading to enjoy.
Florrie slipped back inside the bookshop, rushing over to give Ed a hug. ‘It’s gorgeous! I love it!’ She kissed him hard on the mouth, making him laugh.
‘Glad you approve.’ His smile and the sparkle in his eyes told her he was thrilled. ‘I think you’ll like the second window, too.’
‘Can’t wait to see it,’ she said, happiness racing through her.
‘Are you all ready to see what’s behind the curtain of the next window?’ Jack’s voice rang out into the square and was quickly followed by a resounding yes, the enthusiasm making him laugh. ‘Okay then, let’s count down same as last time, folks. Five! Four! Three…’
The curtain swept back and another gasp ran around the gathering as everyone took a moment to absorb the rustic scene before them with hints of time gone by. This one was of rugged moorland, complete with swathes of rich purple heather in full bloom. It included a weathered moorland cross, the words carved into it being swallowed up by lichen. The backdrop created a scene that led the eye to believe they were at a point high up on the moors, with unspoilt views all around, a clear blue sky above. A young woman in a long Georgian style dress of floral cotton was standing upon a mossy sandstone crag, her hair loose around her shoulders, wispy curls framing her face. She held a small piece of paper in one hand and what appeared to be a quill in the other, while a leather-bound novel bearing a well-known title was set on the ground beside her. A worn signpost was pointing towards an austere looking house of grey sandstone behind her. It bore the words ‘Top Withens’, painted in a cursive hand.
The group watched as the scene came to life and a faux pheasant glided behind the girl, its cackling cry spilling out into the square, while flimsy wisps of cloud floated by in the background. In the next moment, the girl lowered her head as her hands slowly began to move together until the quill was resting on the paper. As she was moving, a breeze appeared, gently blowing herdress and the tendrils of her hair. Despite its undeniable air of melancholy, the scene was utterly mesmerising.
