Page 19 of Snowflakes Over Micklewick Bay

‘That’s kind, as long as it’s no trouble. I don’t want to be a nuisance.’

‘It’s no trouble at all. And the last thing you are is a nuisance,’ Hannah said, reaching for Birdie’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

‘Thank you, lovey.’ Birdie’s frown was replaced with a smile, her cheeks rosy from the warmth of the room.

The two women sat in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, Birdie stroking Smudge, Hannah watching the flames dance in the log burner, her thoughts going to Florrie Appleton and the text she’d promised to send her. Despite her decision not to contact her, Hannah was beginning to feel torn which came as something of a surprise. If she sent one when she got back to Fern Cottage, would it look odd, arriving so late? she wondered. Or was it best just left?

‘Have you eaten much today?’ Birdie asked, drawing her back into the moment.

‘Um, not really, no.’ If Hannah was being completely honest, not a single morsel of food had passed her lips all day, but she thought better of sharing that with Birdie after her earlier comments about Hannah looking pale and not taking care of herself. She didn’t want her neighbour fretting about that on top of everything else.

‘How about some nice, hearty soup? I made a big batch earlier. It’s cream of winter vegetable – I had some veggies that needed using up. Baked some bread, too.’

Mention of food roused Hannah’s appetite from its torpor. A warming bowl of soup sounded surprisingly tempting. Her stomach evidently agreed if the loud rumble that emanated from it was anything to go by.

‘I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?’ Birdie chuckled. ‘Come on, flower, you can join me in the kitchen, we can continue our chat there.’ Birdie lowered the footrest on her armchair and eased Smudge off her knee before carefully getting to her feet.

‘Sounds like a good plan.’ Hannah heaved herself from her comfy spot on the sofa. She’d resigned herself to the fact that she wasn’t going to get the opportunity to rake over the day’s events and her trip to the solicitors any time soon, or give any further consideration to whether she should text Florrie. And besides, she was enjoying spending time with Birdie in her cosy little home.

The mouth-watering mix of aromas intensified as soon as Hannah stepped into the kitchen and it was easy to see why. Not only was there a large pan of soup warming gently on the hob, a rustic-looking loaf of wholemeal bread sitting on the breadboard, and a pile of ginger biscuits arranged on a plate, but there was also an enormous slab of fruitcake on a cooling-rack and what appeared to be a fruit crumble on the worktop beside it. Her stomach grumbled again; Birdie’s crumbles were legendary. She felt suddenly ravenous.

‘Wow, Birdie, you have been busy!’

‘I was trying to keep myself occupied so I didn’t… Yes, well, you know how I don’t like to sit around and do nowt. Idle hands and all that… And anyroad, I was thinking you could do with fattening up a bit. Weight’s been falling off you since…’ Birdie bit her bottom lip, her brow furrowing.

Hannah rested her hand on her shoulder in a gesture of understanding. That her neighbour had tried to keep her mind occupied to stop herself from fretting about her while she was out made Hannah’s heart squeeze. Being mindful that she’d been told not to keep apologising, she kept the realisation to herself. As for the reference to her weight loss, that was no bad thing, especially if what Evan used to say about her curvaceous figure was anything to go by, but again, she reminded herself, there was no room for him in her thoughts right now. ‘Well, it all smells absolutely delicious, Birdie, and I can’t wait to get stuck in. What can I do to help?’

Brightening, Birdie shook off her frown and replaced it with a smile. ‘You can slice some bread while I serve up the soup, if you like? The breadknife’s just in the drawer next to the sink.’

‘Will do.’

As Hannah watched the older woman ladling soup into two bowls the calls and texts from Darryl couldn’t have been further from her thoughts.

TWELVE

The soup was every bit as delicious as Hannah had imagined. She demolished it with great enthusiasm, mopping up the remaining drops with a thick hunk of bread topped with a generous smear of creamy local butter. If it had been up to Birdie, Hannah would have devoured a second bowlful, but if she’d agreed to that, there was no way she’d have been able to indulge in the generous portion of apple and ginger crumble served with lashings of creamy custard. It was comfort food at its finest.

‘That was yummy, thank you.’ Hannah sat back in her seat and patted her stomach, delicious flavours lingering in her mouth and keeping her tastebuds busy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten so much.

‘You can take some of the ginger biscuits home with you in case you fancy a couple for your supper,’ Birdie said, when they were back sitting in the living room. Her neighbour seemed reluctant to let her go this evening, insisting they made themselves comfy again and shared a pot of tea to ‘help the food go down’, as Birdie had put it.

‘Birdie! After what I’ve just devoured, I very much doubt I’ll have room for a tiny crumb never mind a couple of ginger biscuits! In fact, it’s going to take every ounce of strength I have to heave myself up off this sofa and walk the short distance home. There’s a real danger you’ll have to roll me.’

‘Give over, lass.’ Birdie chuckled. ‘All I’m saying is there’s plenty of time between now and supper, and you never know, you might have changed your mind by then.’

Hannah laughed, shaking her head affectionately.

Conversation over the course of the meal had been light, and hadn’t touched on Hannah’s lengthy absence earlier that day, for which she was grateful. Instead, Birdie had chatted away, reminiscing about her childhood memories of growing up on a farm, from tractor rides to the local school when heavy snowfall had made it difficult to walk, to the back-breaking job of picking potatoes for hours on end in the ‘taty fields’, and to the orphaned lambs they’d fed by hand and kept warm in a box next to the Aga. Though Birdie had recounted her stories many times before, she always spoke with such fondness that Hannah never tired of hearing them.

‘Did I ever tell you about the time me and Colleen went sledging in that big, steep field yon side of Est Rigg farmhouse,’ Birdie had asked as they were tucking into their crumble. Noting the gleam of happiness in her eyes, and despite having heard the story numerous times over the years, Hannah had shaken her head and replied that she hadn’t. She wasn’t going to put the dampeners on her neighbour’s pleasure, especially knowing how low she’d been since she’d lost her best friend. And not just that, Hannah was always keen to hear heartwarming stories about her beloved aunt.

Birdie had needed no further encouragement. ‘Well, as you know, when I was a lass it’s where all the local young ’uns went as soon as there was a deep enough covering of snow – still do, by all accounts.’ Hannah knew it well; her aunt had taken her sledging there many times when she was younger. ‘On this particular day Colleen was sharing my sledge since she’d forgotten to bring her own, and we were belting down the field at a right pace – everything was whizzing by in a blur. I can remember it as if it was yesterday; the sky was the brightest blue and the air was so fresh and crisp. Colleen and me were screeching with laughter. Anyroad, Billy Jowsey starts walking across the field lower down, pulling his own sledge behind him, but for some reason, the daft apeth stops right in our path. Me and Colleen started yelling at the top of our voices as we hurtled towards him, telling him to get out of the way, but he just stood there gawping at us like he was frozen to the spot. Everyone else joined in shouting for him to shift but he stood still as a statue. And much as we tried, we were going too fast to stop in time and ended up clipping him and sending him and a load of snow flying.’ Birdie had been so tickled by the memory she’d had to pause her story until her giggles had subsided. Her amusement had been infectious and set Hannah off laughing as well. ‘The other kids told us later that he’d done a kind of backwards flip in mid-air. Everyone was howling with laughter, even Billy when he’d recovered from the shock – I should probably mention he was unhurt, just a bit winded, that’s all. Quite enjoyed being centre of attention, too.’ Birdie wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. ‘He was a nice lad, even if he wasn’t the sharpest. Married a lass from over Danskelfe way; I think they still live there.’

‘That’s a wonderful story, Birdie.’ Hannah couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘I bet Billy’s family have enjoyed hearing it over the years.’

‘Aye, I bet they have, lovey. Happy days, they were.’ She smiled fondly. ‘But my favourite has always been the one your Auntie Coll used to tell me about how she’d first met your Uncle Len. Granted it was entertaining, but, by, she had a real flair for telling stories, did Coll, your mum as well. Things sounded even more hilarious for Coll’s retelling. Sometimes it was just the look on her face that would have you in stitches.’

‘Oh, yes! Talk about a Netflix-worthy meet cute.’ Hannah smiled, the story of her aunt’s first encounter at a Young Farmers’ meeting with her future husband filling her mind.