Page 30 of Snowflakes Over Micklewick Bay

As she made her way along the broad pavement of York flagstones, the loud jangle of a bell behind her made her start. She turned to see a Lycra-clad cyclist pedalling towards her as if he was in training for the Tour de Yorkshire, the face beneath the bright yellow cycle helmet blazing with fury. ‘Argh!’ She quickly jumped out of his way.

‘You’re in the flaming cycle lane,’ he yelled angrily, shaking his fist as he whizzed by in a whirr of wheels, missing her by mere millimetres.

‘Sorry,’ she called after him, then muttered under her breath, ‘Keep your Lycra on, grumpy shorts! And you were actually over the line!’ She watched as he hurled abuse at other pedestrians who’d unwittingly strayed into his path. Some people were just predisposed to be angry, she thought to herself. He must feel permanently unhappy with himself.

She continued along the promenade, the fresh air and sun on her face sending a feeling of invigoration rushing through her, pushing her on while simultaneously forcing her self-doubt further out of reach. It reminded her how her aunt had always espoused the benefits of spending time outdoors. It was something Hannah knew she herself hadn’t done anywhere near enough, and not just because she’d been busy in the Bougie Burger van. Her lack of self-confidence had meant she’d hidden herself away, which she accepted was a tragedy considering the beautiful location of her home. Purchasing the Bougie Burger van and setting up their business had gone some way to alleviating what she knew her aunt feared had the potential to develop into agoraphobia. Hannah decided she owed it to Auntie Coll’s memory to keep pushing forward with getting herself out. It was another thing to add to her already lengthy list and many personal challenges. But since her circumstances had changed, she was undecided what to do about the Bougie Bertha. All she knew was that reopening and carrying on without her aunt by her side didn’t bear thinking about. Though that was the least of her worries right now, thanks to Auntie Coll.

As she continued along the promenade, she glanced over at the imposing line of grand Victorian houses with huge windows that maximised the view. The five-storey sandstone buildings exuded an air of haughty grandeur, as if looking down their noses at the locals bustling by and going about their business. She recalled her aunt telling her they’d originally been built as holiday homes for the folk who’d made their money from industry in Teesside further up the coast. How they’d pop down to Micklewick Bay and partake in a spot of sea bathing or a walk along the newly constructed pier, accessing the bottom prom via the new-fangled funicular – an impressive feat of Victorian engineering that involved pulleys and weights filled with water. Hannah and her mother had taken a ‘flight’ – as it was known – in it when she was a small child, but she’d been terrified it would break free from the thick metal runners and tumble all the way down to the beach. Times had changed since Micklewick Bay was in its heyday, though, and the grand houses had been divided up and converted into apartments, albeit pretty fancy ones that commanded a hefty asking price.

As she strode on, Hannah spotted a couple dressed in running gear heading towards her. It sent her thoughts scattering and she quickly turned away, dipping her head and letting her loose hair fall over her face. Despite what she’d told herself about pushing through her anxiety, and after what Florrie had told her, she still felt uneasy about what locals would think of her after the rumours Polly and Darryl had circulated. That particular worry was going to take a lot of getting rid of if she was to visit the town again. She kept her face averted as a tall man walked by with a bouncy red setter on the end of a lead. There was something vaguely familiar about the loping way he strode along. She couldn’t put a name to him, but she hoped he wouldn’t recognise her.

Hannah continued with her walk until she reached Skitey Bank, the steep road that wove its way down to the bottom prom. A couple of motorbikes roared by as she checked her watch, wondering if she had time to head down to the beach. Tempting as it was, she decided it would no doubt make her late for her appointment. Telling herself if she felt up to it she could venture down there after her catch-up with Florrie, she turned on her heel and doubled back on herself before taking a left on to Resolution Row and retraced the steps into the town centre she’d taken last week. Her heart felt suddenly jittery.

TWENTY-TWO

‘Thank you for coming back, Miss Merryweather, please take a seat,’ Mr Cuthbert said in a well-spoken voice as he gestured to the two leather chairs set out before the large partner’s desk that dominated the room. He had thinning grey hair that was combed back off his forehead.

Entering the room had the same effect on her as it had on her last visit. It wasn’t just the formality of the place or that her nerves had taken hold again, it was like taking a step back in time, but for the computer monitor set to one side on the desk. A greying, heavy net curtain hung at the large bay window affording clients a degree of privacy. Vintage legal prints adorned the oak-panelled walls while behind Mr Cuthbert was an impressive floor-to-ceiling wall of law books. Many of them looked more than a little battered from use, though she rather got the impression some were displayed for aesthetic purposes. Her father used to tell her legal publications were very quickly outdated which was why new editions had to be bought, often on an annual basis. She assumed it was these that contributed to the slightly fusty air of the room.

‘Thank you.’ Hannah sat down and rested her bag on the floor beside her. The nerves squirming in her stomach were in no small part down to the frosty greeting from the receptionist. The woman’s hostile body language told Hannah she hadn’t imagined it last week. Moreover, it strengthened her suspicions that she was the person who’d given Darryl the tip-off that she was in town – if, indeed, that was why he’d been trying to contact her.

‘And how are you?’ The solicitor placed his fountain pen on the desk and peered over his half-moon spectacles perched on the end of his generous nose. Hannah would put him in his late sixties to early seventies. ‘I hope you don’t think it impertinent of me, but I must say, you look rather better than you did last week.’ He offered her a kind smile.

‘I don’t mind at all. I feel much better, actually.’ She returned his smile. She hardly dared to think about how she must have appeared to him at her last appointment. She just remembered feeling dazed as she’d left his office.

‘Good. I was very conscious that you had an awful lot of information thrown at you at our last meeting, but I hope my letter set it out clearly and concisely for you, and went some way to helping you understand the situation.’ He looked at her enquiringly.

‘It did, yes, thank you. It actually helped me see things very clearly. The part I found most difficult to get my head around was the size of my aunt’s estate. I mean… it’s vast. I had no idea she and my mother owned so much property between them, or that Midsummer Haven belonged to them and wasn’t owned jointly by my parents, which was what I’d always assumed.’ She still couldn’t fully comprehend why her aunt had been so secretive and never shared this detail with her despite Birdie saying it was her aunt’s way of protecting her.

‘Completely understandable, my dear. I’ll do all I can to help shed light on anything you feel needs further clarification.’ Mr Cuthbert gave another smile. At both appointments, he wasn’t at all as stern or aloof as she’d been expecting. Quite the contrary, he actually seemed kind in a stuffy, old-fashioned sort of way. ‘In fact, I anticipated you having lots of questions so I took the liberty of blocking out a double appointment for us – I do hope that’s okay with you and you don’t need to rush off anywhere. There’s still quite a lot I’d like to go over with you. I feel it’s extremely important that you have a good handle on everything; your aunt was very eager for that, too. Because of certain individuals involved, she wanted to make sure there was no risk of ambiguity or that things could be left open to interpretation. I’ve done everything within my power to ensure every “I” has been dotted, every “T” has been crossed, and every single loose end has been tied up as tightly as possible. Your aunt was satisfied with it all and, if I recall correctly, she told me that it was more watertight than the proverbial duck’s bottom.’ His bushy grey eyebrows lifted as his mouth twitched with amusement.

Hannah couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Good old Auntie Coll – you know, I can actually hear her saying that. Mind, I imagine she didn’t put it quite so politely.’

‘Yes, you might be right there,’ he said, giving in to a chuckle. ‘But, joking aside, you can rest assured that I have decades of experience in such matters and that everything will be fine as regards the O’Riordan estate. Your stepmother and her son will no doubt kick up a fuss but there’s not a thing they can do about it.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, falling serious once more. She recalled Birdie saying how highly her aunt and mother had regarded Mr Cuthbert, that he’d been the O’Riordan family solicitor for decades. ‘And as far as wondering if I have to rush off, I’m meeting someone, but we haven’t set a definite time, so the double appointment’s fine, thank you.’ Unsure of how long her appointment would take, the two women had agreed that Hannah should just pop over to the bookshop when she was done at the solicitor’s office. ‘And your letter was very helpful, but I do have a few questions for you. I wrote them down in my notebook so I wouldn’t forget anything.’

‘Very sensible. And you might like to know I’ll be making notes of our conversation which I’ll have typed up for you.’ He picked up his fountain pen. ‘I’m afraid I’m something of a Luddite and prefer a good old pen and paper to keyboards and computer screens.’ He gave a chuckle. ‘This thing on my desk is purely for decorative purposes.’ He pointed his pen in the direction of the monitor.

Hannah couldn’t help but think that when he smiled he had a kind face. She could see why her mum and aunt had liked him. She reached for her handbag and fished out her notebook as Mr Cuthbert continued.

‘I had the greatest of respect for your aunt and your mother. They both had jolly good business heads on them. And, while some of Colleen’s decisions might at first seem odd, hopefully her reasoning behind them will help you see the logic in them.’

Though Hannah nodded, she couldn’t help but think Mr Cuthbert’s words sounded just as cryptic and puzzling as her aunt’s in the letter she’d left her. It made her wish she’d brought Birdie along to the appointment. In fact, her neighbour had offered, but Hannah had declined since Birdie had a long-standing booking for a trip to York with her fellow members of Beckinthwaite’s Countryfolk group. She’d been looking forward to it, especially since she’d been invited to Thelma Tyreman’s for tea on their return. Hannah had dropped Birdie off at the pickup point in the village early that morning and it had been arranged that Thelma would bring her home later that evening. Birdie had been forced to stop driving her old series Land Rover since her cataracts had made it unsafe for her to get behind the wheel. She’d taken it badly, grumbling that it made her reliant on other people which she wasn’t happy about. Hannah had to admit that seeing little Birdie peering over the top of the steering wheel, manhandling the old Landie without the luxury of power-steering, had been an amusing sight – Birdie had brought the vehicle with her when she moved out of the farm. And, since her neighbour had been waiting a long while for an appointment to have the cataracts removed, Hannah had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t drive again. However, Birdie’s trip out with her pals had offered Hannah a welcome degree of relief to think that she’d have her day occupied doing something she enjoyed rather than sitting at home and fretting as she had on Hannah’s last visit to Micklewick Bay.

Mr Cuthbert looked over at her, his fountain pen poised. ‘Right, Miss Merryweather, fire away.’

TWENTY-THREE

By the time Hannah had left Cuthbert, Asquith & Co’s stuffy office, she was more than ready for a cup of tea. She made a point of avoiding eye contact with the frosty receptionist, telling herself she’d make subtle enquiries about her with Florrie.

Her thoughts staying with Florrie, she’d been in touch several times since their FaceTime session. Their blossoming friendship had come as a welcome surprise and Hannah found herself very much looking forward to seeing her new friend today. She’d never clicked with anyone as quickly as she had with Florrie and already she had the feeling they’d be pals for life. It added to her determination to keep her self-doubt under control and not allow it to sabotage things between them. She wouldn’t be ghosting Florrie. Her Auntie Coll would be over the moon to hear this.

Out on the pavement, she was pleased to see the sun was still shining as she cast her gaze across the wide road; the spring blooms in the stout sandstone planters down the centre were outdoing themselves, their bright colours dancing under the sun’s rays. She made her way towards the kerb, checking the road to her right, making sure it was clear. As she stepped out and hurried across, slipping through the gap between the planters, waiting for the road on this side to clear for her to cross, her insecurity gave a sly prod. ‘Are you sure about this?’ it whispered. ‘You know you’ll only regret it. You and friends don’t work. Why’s this one going to be any different?’ Quick as a flash, her mind went to Auntie Coll and what she’d have to say about it. ‘What happened to your determination, missy? It was here only minutes ago! Send those bloomin’ misgivings packing – they’ve ruled you for too long – and bring that determination right back! Go for it, lovey! Go and meet your friend!’ Her voice rang loud and clear in Hannah’s mind. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as her aunt’s imaginary words pushed the self-doubt away with a sturdy shove. Thank you, Auntie Coll.

As she was checking for traffic to her left, her eyes landed on a familiar sea blue vintage campervan parked at the bottom of the square. The sight wrong-footed her and her heart leapt. ‘Lachie!’ she said with a gasp. She stood, frozen to the spot. It must be him, surely? It was too much of a coincidence. She recalled Florrie saying she’d seen a blue campervan several times in the town recently. Reasons for him still being in Micklewick Bay fired into Hannah’s mind. Did he have a job here? Or was he still travelling around, taking some time out like he’d told her last year? He must be staying somewhere local, or parking up nearby and sleeping in the campervan. She squinted to see if she could see the outline of anyone sitting in the driver’s seat, but it was too far away for her to make out. And what difference would it make if Lachie was sitting there, anyway? She heaved a sigh, wondering why she was allowing herself to get so carried away about seeing a campervan with a man who clearly was so uninterested in her he hadn’t bothered to return to the Bougie Burger van despite his promise. All the same, coming into contact with him again, albeit at a distance, had triggered an ache of longing in her heart she hadn’t expected. Get him out of your mind, he’s made it perfectly plain he doesn’t want you! It also had the effect of making her want to get out of town as fast as she could to avoid bumping into him. How was this fair when she’d only moments ago talked herself out of wriggling out of meeting Florrie?

Still rooted to the spot with the sound of traffic whooshing around her, Hannah’s mind veered between rushing off to her car and texting Florrie that she couldn’t make it, and heading straight to the bookshop and continuing with her plans, talking herself in and out of each option several times over. A man with a suit carrier folded over his arm appeared beside her. He shot her a puzzled look before heading over the road. It jolted her out of her indecision, forcing her to make up her mind. Stop dithering, woman! The option to meet up with Florrie won out – again! – so Hannah quickly gathered herself together and dashed across the road where she headed towards the bookshop before she could change her mind. She couldn’t imagine Lachie would be lurking in the teashop when he was such a beef burger fan; they’d be on safe turf as far as bumping into him there was concerned.