Page 24 of Snowflakes Over Micklewick Bay

‘Well, the pair of them are in for a heck of a shock, and it’s not before time. I only wish I could see their faces when it happens.’

FIFTEEN

The following morning, Hannah blinked her eyes awake to find a pale sliver of light reaching in through a gap in the bedroom curtains. It told her that she’d slept late, which was something she hadn’t done for longer than she could remember. And not just that, she’d barely moved from her position when she’d drifted off to sleep. She must’ve slept soundly right through, helped in no small way by the hearty meal she’d devoured at Birdie’s.

Hannah rubbed her eyes and stretched. She was feeling unexpectedly refreshed. She flicked on her bedside light and squinted at the alarm clock, her eyebrows arching upwards when she registered the time. ‘Twenty to ten? No wonder it’s light!’ Hannah was an early bird and as a rule never slept beyond seven, even on the days when she wasn’t working at the Bougie Burger van.

She flopped back onto her pillows, taking a moment as thoughts filtered into her mind, everything that had happened yesterday sitting squarely at the top. There’d been a lot to take in, but talking to Birdie had offered her a welcome degree of clarity. It made it easier to see through the clutter and confusion. She’d also reread her aunt’s letter before she’d gone to bed, the words taking on a greater resonance since her chat with Birdie. Before she’d drifted off to sleep, Hannah had made the decision that she was going to put her aunt’s wishes into action. She was going to pull herself out of her gloom, stop feeling sorry for herself and do something that would make Auntie Coll proud. Her aunt had invested so much in her over the years – Uncle Len, too. Not just in time and money, but love and affection. That had been given in abundance. They weren’t obliged to, but they’d taken her in when Hannah felt she had nowhere else to go, treating her with kindness and compassion. Their cosy home had been a sanctuary to her. She owed it to them to put their love and care, not to mention the decent values they’d instilled in her, to good use. It was time to push herself, and get out of that shell her aunt so regularly referred to. Hannah wasn’t fooling herself, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but she wasn’t going to lock herself away and let her grief – or Polly and Darryl – take over. As these thoughts had run around her mind Hannah could almost hear her aunt’s voice, spurring her on. ‘Come on, young lady. It’s time you shaped yourself!’ she’d say, using a Yorkshire expression that meant sort yourself out!

Which was exactly what Hannah had decided to do.

A surge of decisiveness pushed her up and out of bed. Yes, her grief was still there, but it didn’t feel as overwhelming as it usually did when she first opened her eyes. Instead, it had receded into the shadows, allowing other emotions and thoughts a moment of prominence. Maybe shedding so many tears yesterday had been cathartic. Whatever it was, it felt like a turning point, and Hannah was glad of it.

Recalling last night’s promise to herself, she felt a frisson of apprehension running up her spine, but she wasn’t going to let it change her mind. Today, she was going to channel her inner Auntie Coll and get things moving.

She slid her feet into her slippers, pushed her arms into her dressing gown, flicked her hair from under the collar and made her way downstairs where she headed straight to the kitchen. The first thing she did was to turn the radio on full blast for the first time since her aunt had passed away, in a bid to chase away the stillness that pervaded the cottage. It was almost as if the very fibres of the building were anticipating her return. As a rule, Colleen would’ve had the radio belting out her favourite station and she’d be singing along tunelessly at the top of her lungs while banging and clattering crockery as she prepared breakfast. She even managed to make setting the teapot and a couple of mugs on the scrubbed pine table sound like there was a herd of wildebeest charging around the room. Nothing about her aunt had been quiet, from her voice to her choice of clothes – the garments in her wardrobe were particularly loud – not to mention her garish taste in jewellery! Oh, my days! Some of that was bold with a capital ‘B’. But she’d had the personality to carry it off and always managed to look stylish and more youthful than her seventy-four years. The same went for her fashionably spiky grey crop that showcased her stunning O’Riordan cheekbones and bright blue eyes.

Hannah filled the kettle and set it on the Aga hotplate before making her way over the flagstones to the large, mullioned window. She threw back the curtains to see yet more snow had fallen overnight. The view from the front looked out over Beckinthwaite Dale and took in the broad, undulating expanse of moorland that stretched across to the village of Beckinthwaite. There, the little cluster of houses with their thatched rooftops were covered in a thick layer of snow, lines of smoke curling upwards from their chimney pots. The vibrant red berries of the holly tree in the front garden gleamed brightly against the glimpses of dark green foliage, a stunning contrast to the pure white backdrop. It made for an achingly pretty scene.

Hannah stood for a while gazing out at the landscape, when a barn owl caught her eye, gliding down from the great, gnarled oak tree in Tom Verrill’s field. It flew over a huddle of sheep that were feeding at the scrappy remnants of the hay bale he’d delivered yesterday, before hovering above a drystone wall, focusing intently on whatever had caught its eye. Hannah watched as it swooped down, before rising and taking off above the fields, a small object clutched tightly in its claws.

She switched her attention to a hare that was bounding along the lane, the deep snow hampering its progress. Hares featured prominently at Fern Cottage, with them being one of her favourite creatures. Each Christmas and birthday, her aunt had always sought out a gift with a hare theme, whether it be an ornament, a picture, a notebook and everything in between. Last year, Colleen had presented her with a delicate silver necklace with a moon-gazing hare pendant. Hannah had worn it every day since.

The shrill whistling of the kettle brought her back to the moment. She scooped it from the hotplate and poured the boiling contents over a clutch of teabags she’d thrown into the teapot in readiness. Allowing the tea time to mash, she headed over to the door that opened on to the large back garden, swapping her slippers for her wellies. Sliding the bolts across, she swung it wide and stepped out into the crisp frosty air. She inhaled deeply, her nose detecting a hint of woodsmoke from Birdie’s log burner next door.

Her thoughts drifted to Lachie, a hint of sadness sneaking in. Seeing him in Micklewick Bay yesterday had been an unwelcome reminder of the feelings she’d had for him – still had, if she was honest. ‘Don’t go there, Hannah! Get him out of your head!’ she said aloud. Hopefully, he’d move on or go back to Scotland. With that, she headed back indoors and back to her plans for the day.

Once she’d showered and dressed, she was going to take a proper look at the documents old Mr Cuthbert had given her yesterday. If she’d understood everything correctly, her aunt had set her up with an opportunity that, despite being utterly daunting and way, way out of her comfort zone, had sent an unexpected buzz of excitement running through her. But there were a couple of things holding her back and, unfortunately, the ‘things’ in question were pretty big. She really needed to give this some careful consideration and not just act on a whim and be filled with regret later.

That wasn’t the only thing Hannah had made up her mind to do today. With her aunt’s words about friendship ringing in her ears, she was going to text Florrie and let her know she’d got back home safely. She’d even considered Florrie’s suggestion of having a catch-up, which would provide the perfect opportunity to broach the subject of Darryl and the bookseller’s obvious dislike of him. Hannah knew her aunt would encourage a friendship with Florrie – over the years, she’d regularly said how highly she thought of her and her family. You go for it, lass! You and Florrie will get on like a house on fire! she could imagine her saying. The thought brought a smile to her face.

Hannah was also going to call in on Birdie and while she was there, she’d fetch some logs from the outside log store; make sure her neighbour had enough to see her through the day. She was also going to invite her to Fern Cottage for lunch so she could share her plans with her, get Birdie’s take on things. Hannah couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she told her she was going to carry out her aunt’s wishes!

SIXTEEN

Hannah had an array of documents set out in neat piles on the kitchen table. In her hand was Mr Cuthbert’s accompanying letter that outlined what everything meant clearly and concisely. It felt slightly surreal that she was actually considering going ahead with her aunt’s wishes, but she was undeterred.

The small business card alongside the documents caught her eye, a reminder that she was going to text Florrie Appleton. Guilt had been prodding at her. And not only that, once she’d got it out of the way, it would free up some headspace for the rest of her thoughts – of which there was a multitude! She needed to focus and give each one her undivided attention, especially considering the impact they were likely to have on her life. She set the letter down, picked up the business card and reached for her phone. Once she’d added Florrie’s number, she began tapping out a message, her fingers and thumbs moving swiftly.

Hannah reread the message a couple of times, wondering if it sounded a little on the cool side. She was conscious she had a habit of texting like that in her bid to keep people at a distance and discourage further communication, but it somehow didn’t feel right to be that way with Florrie. She added a smiley face emoji after ‘much appreciated’ and signed off with a single “x”, deciding that made the tone altogether more friendly. As she pressed send, she wondered if Florrie would buy the white lie about misplacing her phone.

Hi Florrie, so sorry not to text you when I got back – misplaced my phone. As you can probably guess, I got home okay! Drive was a bit tricky in parts. Thank you for your kindness yesterday. Much appreciated. Hannah Merryweather x

Next up, she needed to tackle the ridiculous number of calls and texts from Darryl which appeared to have continued long after she’d turned off her phone. Rather than having to read the abuse they no doubt contained, she did a mass delete of his messages then went to her contacts list and blocked his number, feeling inordinately relieved when she’d done so. Hannah knew it was only a temporary fix, but she’d already decided, after how they’d spoken to her at her father’s funeral, the only way she was going to deal with him and his mother was via solicitors. She wouldn’t allow any space for the worry that was trying to sneak in: that there was a chance he, and maybe even his mother, would turn up on her doorstep. And though the prospect had made her shudder, she told herself she’d tackle that if and when it happened. There was no way she was going to let either of them through the door. She made a mental note to warn Birdie when she popped in on her, just in case. Hannah didn’t want her kind and gentle neighbour getting dragged in to her grievances with Polly and Darryl.

It was when she was adding a splash of milk to her mug of tea that her phone pinged, sending her thoughts scurrying. Her hand stilled and her heart sank as an image of Darryl’s angry face shot through her mind. It took a couple of seconds for her brain to play catch-up and remember that she’d blocked his number. With curiosity replacing her momentary panic, she placed the milk jug on the countertop and made her way to the dresser where she tentatively picked up her phone. She was pleasantly surprised to see a reply from Florrie Appleton.

Hi Hannah, thanks for your text. So glad you didn’t get stranded on t’moors! It was lovely to bump into you yesterday, hope you’re feeling brighter today. Don’t forget what I said about giving me a shout when you’re next in Micklewick Bay. Would be fab to see you. Maybe we could grab that cuppa and some cake while you’re here! Fxx

Hannah found herself tapping out a speedy reply, her spirits brightening further as she did so. ‘You’d be so proud, Auntie Coll!’ she said light-heartedly.

Thanks, it was lovely to see you too! I have to pop back your way soon. Not sure when exactly, but might call at the bookshop when I’m there. Would be fab to see you too! x

She’d originally included that her reason for popping back was for an appointment at the solicitor’s office but thought better of it. She didn’t want to look like she was oversharing, so she quickly deleted that part and added the last sentence – usually so un-Hannah! – before pressing the send arrow.

It didn’t take long for a reply to land.

Yay! Might be an idea to text beforehand in case it’s my day off. Very happy to meet up with you at the tearoom – or anywhere else you fancy! xx