Page 33 of Snowflakes Over Micklewick Bay

She watched as Florrie poured a splash of milk into her cup, picked up her teaspoon and stirred her tea thoughtfully. ‘Hmm, well, what you told me the other night certainly hasn’t improved my opinion of him, but I’ve never been keen on him, to be honest. He’s… how can I put this? Let’s just say, he’s a funny one; has a bit of a reputation for rubbing folk up the wrong way.’ She set her teaspoon down on the saucer and met Hannah’s gaze. ‘There’s been a few rumours flying around town about him over the last few years.’

‘Rumours?’ This was interesting. ‘What kind of rumours?’

‘Rumours that throw his honesty into question, on both a professional and personal level. I don’t like to say too much in case I’ve got it wrong – Stella knows more about it; calls him a shyster, which I reckon sums him up perfectly. I’ll only add that he’s probably best avoided, but I guess I don’t need to tell you that.’

‘That’s really interesting, and thanks for the warning. It’s confirmed my doubts; he clearly hasn’t changed from when we were kids.’ She gave Florrie a grateful smile. ‘Anyroad, that’s enough about him, tell me about you. It’s great to hear you’re still besties with the same group of lasses from school.’

‘I know, they’re a pretty amazing bunch. I don’t know what I’d do without them.’ An affectionate smile spread across Florrie’s face. ‘It’s a shame you’re not staying overnight, you could’ve joined us at the Jolly; we meet up there for fish and chips every Friday night. We always have a laugh together and it’s a men-free zone, strictly lasses only, although Ed did manage to wangle himself an invite once. It was in the early days of him and I getting to know one another and a very definite one-off. In fact, I think the others scared the life out of him with the grilling he got, particularly from Stella – being a barrister, she went in for the kill, as you can probably imagine.’ She chuckled at the memory.

‘Oh blimey, poor Ed.’ Hannah laughed. ‘He obviously cares a lot about you for it not to have put him off.’

‘I think he was more dazed than anything; poor lad didn’t know what had hit him.’ Florrie giggled.

‘You’re right, it is a shame I’m not staying over. Your catch-ups sound great.’ Hannah hoped her reply hid her real feelings. She’d hate to offend Florrie but, much as she enjoyed hearing all about her group of friends and what they were doing with their lives, the prospect of joining a group of five women she barely knew was a bit too soon in her efforts at putting herself out there. It was enough to send her social anxiety levels soaring through the roof, not that she wasn’t keen to meet them, but she needed to do it in stages. Sitting here, in this teashop with all these people, conversing with Florrie, would be using up every ounce of her social battery, particularly after her time in the solicitor’s office. It would be drained flat by the time she got home. But that wasn’t to say she wasn’t having a nice time. She was enjoying Florrie’s company, with her friendly, easy manner, but at the back of her mind lurked the worry that she might bump into someone she knew from when she last lived in the town. It was a concern she was yet to share with her new friend.

The two women continued catching up on what had happened in Micklewick Bay and the bookshop over the years since Hannah had left. She listened with delight as Florrie described the author readings they hosted there in a specially created reading room on a regular basis.

‘There’s one next Wednesday, the fourth of March. I’ve still got that spare couple of tickets, thought I’d try one last go to tempt you before I offer them to a couple of my mum’s friends who have shown an interest.’

‘Thanks, but I think I’m going to have to decline. I’ve got a lot to sort out back home.’ Hannah could imagine what her aunt would have to say to that response: Pathetic excuse! Hannah would have to agree. ‘I can’t believe you’re actually friends with Jack Playforth and Jenna Johnstone!’ she continued, diverting attention away from her refusal, hoping Florrie wouldn’t think she was unfriendly. ‘They’re hugely popular! I’m a massive fan of Jenna’s books, and the series based on them.’

‘Honestly, you couldn’t meet a more down-to-earth couple. They spend the whole time laughing during their joint readings and, as a result, they have everyone else in stitches too. They’re not at all starry. You’ll have to come to one when you’re free, you’ll love it. Oh – how could I forget? – Jean Davenport is Jack’s birth mother. He was adopted as a baby – long story – and found her by accident here.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously. They don’t make a secret of it, and they’ve been making up for lost time ever since. I’ll tell you about it when we’ve got more time, but I should warn you, it’s a tearjerker.’

Hannah had just taken the last mouthful of her sandwich when a woman’s voice caught her attention, stirring a distant memory. It was the accent that set the voice apart; well-spoken but with the occasional flat Yorkshire vowel. Hannah hadn’t heard one like it since she’d left the town. Her face fell as her eyes cautiously tracked their way to where it was coming from, her heart leaping as her suspicions were confirmed! It was Gloria Stephens, a wealthy neighbour who’d lived opposite Midsummer Haven when Hannah had been growing up. Talk about unlucky! A memory of Polly fawning all over the woman, trying to ingratiate herself with the Stephens family loomed in her mind. No doubt she’ll have revelled in sharing the ‘troubles’ she’d had with Hannah; after all, Polly had broken her neck to tell anyone who’d listen, painting herself in the role of victim and Hannah very much the wayward, troublesome stepdaughter who resented that her father had taken a new wife.

‘Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ Florrie turned, following Hannah’s gaze, then glanced back at her. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘It’s nothing, I’ve just noticed the time and realised I’m running really late. It’s with my appointment at the solicitor’s office taking longer than I expected,’ Hannah gabbled nervously. ‘I promised my neighbour I’d pick her up from the village back home. If I don’t head off now, she’s going to be waiting in the cold and the forecast is for rain over that way.’ She pulled an ‘oops’ face. ‘Sorry.’ She was shocked at how easily the white lie tripped from her mouth, never mind the fact that she didn’t have a clue about the weather over in Beckinthwaite that day.

‘Oh, that’s a shame, you didn’t get a chance to have any cake.’ Florrie looked genuinely disappointed. ‘You’ll have to come back again, then we can have another catch-up so you can have some then; they’re really too good to miss out on, especially Jasmine’s chocolate brownies.’

‘Sounds good; I’ll try to get back as soon as possible.’ Hannah grabbed her coat from the back of her chair, pulling it on hastily, then reached into her bag for her purse, panic making her all fingers and thumbs. ‘Here, let me give you this for my share of the food.’ She placed a twenty-pound note on the table, all the while tilting her face away from Gloria Stephens. ‘Let me know if I owe any more. It’s been great to see you again, but I’d best dash. Sorry.’ She gave an apologetic smile and hurriedly weaved her way between the tables. From her peripheral vision, she could see Gloria Stephens looking in her direction.

Hannah flew down the stairs, slipped between a row of bookcases and hurried across the bookshop floor, relieved to see Leah and Jean busy with customers. Gerty raised her head from her bed by the counter, watching with interest as Hannah whizzed by. The bell jangled noisily as she flung the door open, closing it quickly as she landed out on the street. She half walked and half ran down the square, intent on getting away from the bookshop as quickly as she could. Why had she ever thought meeting Florrie in such a public place like the tearoom was such a good idea? She was bound to bump into people who knew her. And it wasn’t as if she looked so very different from when she was sixteen years old if Florrie had no trouble recognising her on the top prom last week.

She broke out into a full run, her hair flying out behind her, not looking back and taking a shortcut down a narrow snicket she remembered from her younger days, rushing by people as they went about their business. She didn’t stop running until she reached her car.

Her heart was galloping like a racehorse as she pushed the key into the ignition, checked the road was clear and pulled out. She’d almost finished what should have been a three-point turn, but was at least double that thanks to her haste, when her car stalled in the middle of the street. ‘Argh! Don’t do this to me!’ After a couple of attempts, she managed to get the engine started again before driving off, waving her hand in apology at the driver of the car she’d kept waiting.

She was on her way out of the town by the time her heart rate began to settle and her panic started to slip away. It was replaced by a growing feeling of foolishness, wondering what on earth Florrie would be making of her behaviour. ‘Gah! What did you have to go and do that for?’ She’d overreacted, blown the situation way out of proportion. And worse, she’d let her worries take over, which had stopped her from pushing herself forward. She’d failed her aunt.

Hannah pulled over at a conveniently located parking place and sat for a moment, allowing her thoughts to settle, her aunt’s request going round and round in her mind. She practised a spot of deep breathing – in through her nose and out through her mouth. Feeling much calmer, she reached into her bag for her phone. She was going to put her anxiety and discomfort aside and take ownership of her actions. ‘Time to get those big girl’s belly-whackers on again!’

Going to her messages, she tapped on Florrie’s name and started typing out a text.

Hi Florrie, I feel I must apologise for leaving so abruptly. It’s not easy to explain, but if it’s okay with you, I’d like to get the chance to try sometime. I really enjoyed our chat and hope my hasty retreat hasn’t put you off meeting up again! x

It was just after she’d pressed send that Hannah remembered the excuse she’d given for leaving. In her eagerness to explain to Florrie, she’d forgotten she’d told her she had to pick up Birdie. She groaned and shook her head. ‘You’re completely hopeless, Hannah Merryweather!’ As she was beating herself up her phone pinged.

Hi Hannah, no need to apologise. I’m still in the tearoom if you fancy popping back? Fxx

‘Oh!’ Hannah hadn’t been expecting that! Florrie clearly hadn’t bought Hannah’s excuse but at least she wasn’t judging her. Feeling a surge of hope, Hannah sent a quick reply.

On my way! x