Page 31 of Snowflakes Over Micklewick Bay

Arriving outside the double-fronted Victorian building she was instantly distracted by the window displays, her gaze torn between the two of them. They were so intriguing, she didn’t know which one to give her attention to first! The one on the right-hand side was a woodland scene in miniature, set beneath a lichen-covered cherry tree, its arching branches heavy with pink blossom. It featured an achingly sweet bookshop with a moss-covered roof whose customers appeared to be small woodland creatures dressed in woolly jumpers and a variety of bobble hats. Brightly coloured spring flowers were dotted about the forest floor while miniature plant pots, brimming with blooms, were set either side of the bookshop door which was held open. Hannah was particularly taken with a hare with impossibly long ears and whiskers sat on a wooden bench, an open book in his front paws. She gasped with delight when the whole scene came to life, with cherry blossom floating from the tree, and the creatures scurrying into the bookshop, leaving laden with books, the hare opening and closing his book while his ears twitched. Hannah had never seen anything like it before. It was magical!

She headed over to the adjacent window and was thrilled to see the display there was equally captivating. This one depicted a teashop set out in a hole within the broad trunk of a gnarled oak tree. Like the first scene, it featured woodland creatures, but these were sipping tea and eating cakes. Low hanging branches were bedecked with glossy oak leaves and studded with acorns, while pastel-coloured bunting was strung between the boughs, fluttering as if in a breeze. A thin sliver of a stream curved its way around the base with a bushy-tailed squirrel bobbing by on a tiny boat, spring flowers swaying gently to and fro. Hannah was captivated, her eyes darting between the various moving components, a delighted smile brightening her face.

Realising she’d kept Florrie waiting for long enough, she reluctantly tore herself away and headed over the black and white tiles of the entrance. She took a deep breath then pressed down on the door handle, pushing it open. She was instantly greeted by the cheery jingle of an old-fashioned bell. In an instant the unmistakable bookshop aroma hit her nostrils, sending a wave of nostalgia rushing over her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d set foot in The Happy Hartes Bookshop. All she knew was that it had been years ago, though she felt sure she’d been with her mum at the time.

‘Hannah! It’s great you’re here!’ Hannah followed the friendly voice to see Florrie standing at an eye-catching display, a collection of books in her hands. She was smiling warmly and seemed genuinely pleased to see her, which sent Hannah’s apprehension packing.

‘Hi, sorry I’m late. Things took longer than I expected.’ Hannah closed the door behind her just as Gerty trotted over. ‘Gerty, hello there. It’s good to see you again.’ She bent and patted the Labrador who appeared to be as pleased to see her as Florrie was.

‘Hey, no worries. I’m just about finished doing this.’ Florrie nodded to the display that Hannah noted was made up of books by local author, Jack Playforth. They were artfully arranged around what appeared to be a drystone wall and set on a bed of heather. It crossed her mind that it couldn’t have been more fitting for the author’s books since he was famous for writing in North Yorkshire dialect and had a range of books set in the local area. If Hannah remembered correctly, he’d set one in Micklewick Bay; historical fiction based on stories of local smuggling. Florrie added the books in her hand to the display and hurried over the floor to Hannah, pulling her into a hug which was unexpected but welcome. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’

‘It’s good to see you too.’ Hannah beamed.

‘Oh, lovey, it’s so grand to see you. When Florrie told me you were calling in, I was that glad and couldn’t wait to see you,’ came a voice to her right.

Hannah’s gaze switched from Florrie to an older woman with a salt and pepper wavy bob who was walking towards her, a friendly smile on her face. Like Florrie, she was wearing a navy blue Happy Hartes Bookshop hoodie. A pang of recognition fired through her, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it since before she knew what was happening she was being swept into a warm embrace that smelled of soap and a spring garden.

‘Oh, my goodness me! I always hoped you’d come home, lovey.’ The woman stepped back, resting her hands on Hannah’s shoulders. ‘By, you aren’t half the spit of your mum and your aunt,’ she said wistfully. ‘Bonny lasses, the pair of them were, and you’ve turned out just the same.’

Evidently seeing Hannah’s confused expression, Florrie came to the rescue. ‘This is Jean Davenport, she works for us – don’t know what we’d do without her.’ She gave a wide smile. ‘Jean’s lived in Micklewick Bay all her life; always been a regular at the bookshop, like you and your mum. You might remember her?’

Jean Davenport? Hannah ran the name around her mind a couple of times before she was struck by a blast of recognition. ‘Oh yes, of course! I remember! You used to chat to my mum in here when I was little. You both liked the same books.’ In truth, Hannah had a memory of them talking for ages.

Jean seemed thrilled at Hannah’s recollection. ‘Aye, we did that, flower. She was a lovely lass, your mum. And can I say how sorry I was to hear about your aunt. Florrie told me she’d passed away recently, and your dad last year.’ Jean gave Hannah’s shoulders a squeeze before releasing her.

Gerty gave a whimper, gazing up at Hannah in a bid for more attention, making everyone laugh.

‘Gerty, you are such a diva,’ Florrie said jokingly. The Labrador replied with a wag of her tail. Hannah bent and gave her a quick tickle behind the ears which was gratefully received if the increase in the speed of the tail wagging was anything to go by.

‘Oh, and this is Leah, our assistant, who we also don’t know how we’d manage without.’ Florrie directed Hannah’s gaze to the young girl. She, too, was wearing a Happy Harte’s Bookshop hoodie. She had a smiley face, her dark hair tied back in a ponytail. ‘Leah, this is Hannah, who used to live in Micklewick Bay. We know each other from school.’

‘Hi.’ She gave Hannah a cheery wave. ‘Nice to meet you, Hannah.’

‘Hi, Leah, good to meet you, too.’ Hannah returned her smile.

Hannah was teetering on the verge of feeling slightly overwhelmed when Florrie came to the rescue and said, ‘Right, I’m going to leave the bookshop in your capable hands, lasses, while Hannah and me head upstairs to the tearoom. Oh, and Ed said he’s calling in to take Gerty for a walk soon.’ She turned to Hannah and said, ‘Ready for a cuppa?’

‘I sure am.’ More than you’ll ever know! Hannah pushed back against the swell of anxiety that had started slowly rising inside her and smiled. She hoped she wasn’t coming across as standoffish or rude but her concern that she would encounter someone who wasn’t so pleased to see her was building. It was one thing Florrie and her friends not believing the whispers or rumours about why Hannah had left home all those years ago, but it didn’t mean that others felt the same. Someone who’d bought Polly’s version could be sitting upstairs right now.

‘Fab! Follow me.’

Comforted that Florrie didn’t seem to notice her misgivings, Hannah did as she was bid and trotted behind the petite bookshop owner who headed to the great sweeping staircase that curved around as it led the way to the first floor. It wasn’t there the last time she’d visited the bookshop. In fact, there’d been no first floor to the shop at all; the upstairs had been the owners’ living accommodation. She recalled Florrie describing how she and Ed had bought the salvaged staircase from someone in town who had a business upcycling furniture: Nate Wilkinson who had a Beckinthwaite connection and was dating Lark Harker. Hannah decided not to dwell on that right now knowing it would only add to her discomfort. It was easy to see why they’d installed such a beautiful piece of architecture; it made for a stunning focal point, not to mention the cosy reading nook, complete with a couple of comfy-looking armchairs, they’d created in the space under the stairs that caught her eye on their way over.

As they climbed the wooden treads, with their rich patina, the evocative smell of books was soon replaced by the delicious aroma of baking that furled around the top notes of freshly ground coffee beans as the drinks machine hissed into action. Hannah’s mouth began to water.

Florrie turned to her. ‘I’ve reserved us a table in the window which gives us a view over the square if we fancy having a bit of a nosy,’ she said with a grin.

‘Sounds great.’ Hannah’s heart fell a little, though she hid it with a smile. She hadn’t thought about it until now, but she’d hoped they’d have a table tucked away in a quiet corner rather than one in full view. Time to pull your big girl bloomers on, lass – or should that be belly-whackers? – and rock that inner Auntie Coll!

Hannah was pleasantly surprised to find her inner pep-talk gave her a timely boost – again! – as she walked behind Florrie, the clinking of china and the hum of chatter merging with the forties playlist that burbled away softly in the background.

Soon they were making themselves comfortable at a chunky table with mismatched chairs. Florrie plucked a couple of menus from the stand, handing one to Hannah who was busy casting her gaze around the décor of the room, being careful not to catch anyone’s eye – just in case. The room was decorated in a cosy, vintage style, and despite her initial wish for a more discreet table, it was a space that made you feel instantly at ease.

‘Before we get started, I just wanted to say again – and I promise it’s the last time I’ll mention it – how sorry I am for what you’ve been through, how you felt you had to keep away from Micklewick Bay.’ Florrie reached over and gave Hannah’s arm a squeeze.

‘Thank you. And I just want to apologise again for taking up so much of your evening yakking about myself.’

‘I’ve already told you there’s no need to apologise. I’m honoured you felt you could share it with me.’ Florrie smiled gently before lowering her voice. ‘Anyroad, I told the lasses about it and they were stunned and disgusted with Polly and Darryl. In fact, Lark sobbed her heart out, she was that upset by it. And I won’t tell you what Jazz said she felt like doing to them, but I can assure you, it would leave them in no doubt about what she thought of them.’