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‘I’ll say. Hope it doesn’t snow.’
Although the winters in Suffolk weren’t too harsh, they’d had their fair share of snow over the years. Emily remembered the Christmases as a child when she’d prayed for snow, but it had tended to arrive in the new year.
‘Where would you like to start, Alice?’
‘Aldeburgh.’
That suited Emily. There was a choice of cafés to have tea and scones. She was thinking of one in particular. She mentioned this to Alice.
‘That sounds lovely. But first I’d like to visit a place called Cobblers Yard. Do you know it?’
Emily smiled. ‘Oh, yes. Very well. My sister’s best friend runs a flower shop there called The Potting Shed.’ When she stopped the car at the junction to the main road at the top of the street, Emily glanced at Alice. ‘Are you buying some flowers?’
‘No, I’m not going there to visit the flower shop.’
‘Oh, okay.’ She was about to ask why Cobblers Yard in particular, when Alice said, ‘Do you want me to post my letter while we’re in Aldeburgh?’
‘No, my mum’s posting it.’
‘How kind.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ Emily concentrated on turning into the main road, finding a gap in the oncoming traffic. She sped down the main road. The rolling countryside around was so picturesque in spring and summer, with rolling acres of farmland full of bright yellow flowering rapeseed interspersed with green fields, and little villages nestled in between. Today, there were no views on either side of the road. Emily put her fog lights on.
‘Is this unusual weather for Suffolk – the fog?’
‘Yes, this time of year.’
Emily turned off the main road on to a country lane bordered by farmland, passing a farm shop and the odd cottage fronting the road. The fog was lifting. After a ten-minute drive through the rolling Suffolk countryside, the fog hovering a few feet above the fields, they arrived at a small roundabout on the fringes of Aldeburgh. A left turn took them along a wide, winding road, passing detached houses that led to the seafront where there was parking on the street near the imposing Wentworth Hotel. Emily often parked there, in front of a stretch of grass bordering a wide path that ran alongside the shingle beach. There were black wooden huts on the beach where you could buy the fishermen’s catch of the day.
It was only a short walk from the sea front into town, but she couldn’t find a parking space. However, she was in luck. There was a space just past the local supermarket in the high street. She backed her mini in between two parked cars, pulled the handbrake up and switched off the engine. She turned to Alice. ‘Just along here is Cobblers Yard. Have you been to Aldeburgh before?’
Alice nodded. ‘Yes, but it was years ago. I remember the sea front with the grand hotel overlooking the shingle beach and the odd fishing boat pulled up on the beach. From what I can remember, it hasn’t changed. I saw one of the fishing boats as we drove past.’
Emily nodded. ‘I’m going to buy some fresh fish for this evening.’ Although Emily had been told to take the day off – no errands for the guest house – she couldn’t help herself.
‘I remember the wide high street, and the little boutique clothes shops, and of course the fish and chip shops.’
Hester woofed, making them both jump. They’d both forgotten Alice’s dog was in the back. She was looking out of the window, furiously wagging her tail.
Alice looked about her as they got out of the car. ‘I don’t remember the ice-cream parlour over there.’
‘That’s relatively new,’ commented Emily, opening the car boot.
‘Do you need a hand, Emily?’
‘No, I’ve got this.’ She lifted Hester out of the car. ‘Who needs to lose weight?’ she said under her breath as she placed her on the pavement. She handed Alice the lead. Emily led the way along the high street. A few yards past the pet shop, she turned down a narrow, cobbled alleyway.
Alice followed.
‘And here we are,’ said Emily as they entered the small, cobbled courtyard with several little shops with old-fashioned bow-fronted windows. The yard had shops on three sides and was a dead end.
‘Well, this is a surprise. I don’t remember this place. I’m sure I never ventured in here on my last visit years ago.’
Emily turned around and looked at her. ‘But I thought you said you wanted to visit some shops here?’
‘Oh, I’m not here for me – I’m here for you.’
‘Me?’ She glanced at the flower shop across the way, the little music shop next door, with violins and guitars in the window, and the charity shop she knew well from her student days. It was a place she still visited, if for no other purpose than to have a natter and a catch-up with The Gossip Girls,as the two elderly sisters, both widows, who ran the charity shop were known. There was the old antique shop, and a bookshop that had been closed for years, spookily still displaying books from yesteryear in a window full of cobwebs. Emily glanced at the arts and crafts shop, which she had visited for stationery when she was a student. It was now closed, but unlike the bookshop, there was a sign in the window – it was up for sale.
