Page 7 of Finding Love in Micklewick Bay

Florrie splayed her palms. ‘Jazz’s right, and I’ll share the reason for it once you lot tell us why you were all pulling a face – I’m sure it’s not because of Jazz’s pongy plimmies.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ Jasmine said with faux seriousness.

‘We’ll let Stells tell you,’ said Lark as she busied herself pouring the new arrivals a glass of wine each.

‘Ah, that explains things perfectly,’ Jasmine said, nodding once Stella had finished her story. ‘He sounds like a total creep.’ She gave a shudder.

‘He so does,’ said Florrie. ‘But if anyone can handle a bloke like that it’s our Stella.’

‘Hmm. I’d really rather not have to though, but you’re bang on the money, Jazz, he is a total creep,’ Stella said. ‘Moving swiftly on, and to a much more palatable subject, I gather the reason you were uncharacteristically late was owing to a conversation with an author.’ She hitched an enquiring eyebrow at Florrie.

‘Yep, come on, Florrie, spill,’ said Maggie. ‘I’m dying to hear how it went.

Florrie’s face lit up, a wide smile spreading across her face. She pushed her glasses up her nose, her dark-brown eyes shining. ‘Well?—’

‘Actually, before you start, flower,’ Jasmine said, resting her hand on Florrie’s arm, ‘seeing as though I know what you’re going to tell them, why don’t I go and put our food order in before we get stuck behind a great long queue? I could eat a scabby horse between two mattresses, I’m that hungry, and I don’t think my stomach would take it well if it had to wait.’

‘Best get that order placed, then, Jazz.’ Florrie laughed.

‘Too right.’ Maggie pulled a faux concerned face.

‘Usual all round?’ Jasmine cast an enquiring glance around the table as everyone answered in the affirmative.

‘So,’ Florrie continued, tucking a strand of her brunette bob behind her ear. ‘I’ve been trying to build the courage to contact Thea Carlton, with a view to organising a book signing with her, for ages – she’s the romance author from Northumberland.’ She threw a quick glance between them. ‘I knew it was a long shot, but Ed and I thought it was worth a try. I mean, the worst she could do was say no; wouldn’t be the end of the world. She doesn’t seem to have an agent, so I contacted her directly on social media. Honestly, I got the shock of my life when she replied!’

‘Wow! Thea Carlton! Florrie, she’s abigname!’ Lark’s pale-green eyes grew wide.

‘She so is! And how did it go?’ asked Maggie. ‘Please tell me you’ve been successful. Iloveher books.’ She clutched her hands to her chest.

Stella couldn’t help but smile at Florrie’s enthusiasm. The previous year, her friend had inherited half shares in The Happy Hartes Bookshop in the town’s Victoria Square and had worked tirelessly to make the once flagging business a success. Florrie and her partner Ed – of both the romantic and businessvariety – were always thinking up exciting new ideas to bring the bookshop up-to-date and widen its appeal. The window displays, designed and created by artist Ed, had been growing increasingly elaborate and had garnered much local interest. The shop’s footfall had also had a helping hand when nationally renowned Yorkshire poet and author Jack Playforth had moved to the area and had as good as become the bookshop’s in-house author.

‘I have! Oh my goodness! I can hardly believe it!’ Florrie’s face was wreathed in smiles as she clasped her hands to her face. ‘Honestly, I was so nervous when I saw she’d replied, but she was really lovely and friendly. She offered to do a reading too. Can you believe that?’ Florrie glanced around at them.

‘That’s fantastic, Florrie! I’m so pleased for you. Thea Carlton is hugely popular, it’s a real coup for the bookshop.’ Stella beamed at her.

‘It is! It’s brilliant news!’ Maggie reached across and squeezed Florrie’s hand.

‘Oh, Florrie, how wonderful.’ Lark’s eyes shone with happiness. ‘Mr and Mrs H would be so proud of you.’

‘Right then, that’s grub ordered.’ Jasmine returned, plonking herself back in her seat, chasing away the shadow of sadness that had momentarily clouded Florrie’s eyes at the mention of her old bosses. ‘Fab news, isn’t it? I mean Florrie’s about Thea Carlton, and not that I’ve ordered our food, though I have to say, that’s pretty fabulous news too.’ She gave a hearty chuckle.

‘It’s awesome.’ Stella’s heart filled with happiness for her friend, glad to see her looking so settled and content. The previous year had been a tricky one for Florrie. Her beloved boss Mr Harte, to whom she’d been close and thought of as a grandfather – or Mr H, as she’d called him – had passed away suddenly and had stunned her by bequeathing fifty per cent of the bookshop to her. The other half he’d willed to his grandsonEd. This had outraged Mr H’s estranged son and daughter-in-law, who’d demanded that the shares be handed over to them. On top of that, Florrie’s fledgeling relationship with Ed had almost ended before it got started. It had been a stressful time for her in the midst of her grief for the loss of Mr H. Thankfully, after taking legal advice that informed them Mr H’s will had been expertly drafted and was as watertight as was possible, Ed’s parents’ anger appeared to have burnt itself out, and Florrie and Ed had got back on track, their relationship stronger than ever.

‘So when’s it happening?’ asked Maggie, just as a lively tune struck up from the folk band in the corner, accompanied by much foot tapping and clapping.

‘Well,’ said Florrie, leaning in to make herself heard above the music, four pairs of eyes looking at her expectantly, ‘the good news is, owing to Thea Carlton’s other commitments, and the fact that she’s going to be in the area at the time, it looks like it’s going to be on the twelfth of September, which is three-and-a-half weeks’ time.’ Florrie’s smile grew wider. ‘And I can’t quite believe I’m saying this, but she squeezed us in specially.’

‘Go you, Florrie,’ said Maggie, beaming.

‘That’s brilliant! I reckon it’ll be tickets all round for us lot,’ said Stella, smiling, her friend’s happiness infectious. ‘Here’s to our Florrie!’ She held her glass aloft and the others followed suit.

‘Here’s to our Florrie,’ they all chorused enthusiastically.

‘Anyroad, enough about me, how’s the new apartment, Stells?’ Florrie asked, her eyes still sparkling.

Stella took a quick sip of her wine. ‘Well, I’ve still got a few boxes to empty but other than that, I’m loving it. Having a balcony door I can fling open and let the breeze float in is just wonderful, especially in this warm weather – might be a different story when winter sets in and a raging north wind howls in from the sea.’ She laughed. ‘And I know the views from my old apartment were good, but with the warehouse being at anangle to the prom, they’re even better from my new place; I get the most amazing view of the cliffs.’

‘Ooh, sounds dreamy, can’t wait to see it. Which leads me nicely on to asking when’s the housewarming party going to be?’ Maggie grinned before taking a generous swig of her lemonade.

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