Flora's Lot by Katie Fforde (13 inch ebook reader TXT) 📕

who could chat for Britain, was totally at a loss. It might be that she wastired, but she feared it was becausethat she knew she had to apologiseproperly for the terrible things she had said to him during their row. She took another sip of her drink, wishing she hadn't been so abstemious andhad allowed herself another glass ofwine. She couldn't apologise whenanyone was likely to overhear her – she didn't want the whole thingcommon knowledge.

‘Doyou think Annabelle's all right in the kitchen?' she said awkwardly. 'Perhaps I should go and see?’

Charleswas standing in her way, and would have to move ifshe did want to escape back inside the house. 'Annabelle'sperfectly capable of leaving it if she's not enjoying herself, I assure you,' he said.

Was theresomething a little cold in Charles's voice when hesaid this? Perhaps they'd quarrelled on the way over.Except they'd had Jeremy with them in the car. That wouldcramp Charles's style, if not Annabelle's. 'I'll try not to worry about it then.’

She wasn'treally worried, just a bit uncomfortable. She rackedher brain for a neutral topic of conversation.

‘Just relax,Flora,' said Charles, putting a hand on the small ofher back for just a second as he came round to sit on the sofa next to her. 'I knowentertaining is stressful, but I'm sureWilliam's got it all under control. And if not, Annabelle's verycapable.’

Florasighed again. If only it was William, Annabelle andnature's bounty that was worrying her. Fortunately, Williamand Annabelle both appeared just then, carrying plates.

‘Afew little nettle quiches to keep you going,' said William.

‘He'sso clever!' said Annabelle enthusiastically. 'He's created the whole meal out of things he'dgathered from the hedgerows. Oh, and some aubergines.’

Flora, whoknew this, had been hoping to keep the information from her guests and hadsworn Emma to secrecy.Still, the cat was out of the bag now.

‘Ihope that doesn't mean we're having hedgehog,' said Jeremy, guffawing in a way Flora feared would put Emma offfor ever.

‘Ohno. It's strictly vegetarian,' said William. Flora had vetoed rabbit pie, although William had saidhe had a wonderful recipe for it.The thought of the skinning and disembowelling was all too disgusting.

‘Oh!' said Jeremy.

‘Butnot vegan,' added William, by way of reassurance. He and Flora had agreed thatwhile they were keeping costs down,as Emma had brought a hunk of verynice Parmesan cheese with her, it would be a shame not to use it.

‘It'snice to try something different,' said Emma, who'd had a sample quiche earlier and knew they werenice. 'Mm! These are gorgeous.'

‘Heregoes, then,' said Jeremy, putting one into his mouth whole. 'Actually,' he said a moment or two later, blowingcrumbs. 'These are excellent.'

‘Don't sound so surprised, Jeremy,'snapped Annabelle. 'William's a brilliant cook.'

‘Thesecret with nettles,' said William, 'is to only pick the top two leaves,like you do with tea.'

‘Haveanother quiche, Jeremy,' said Emma, seeing his slightly horrified expression. 'And don't worry about the food. Ihappen to know that the pudding's quite normal.'

‘I'msure it will be delicious,' said Jeremy, looking at Emma. Emma lookedback.

Observingthis, Flora felt pleased. It would do Emma's ego so muchgood to be admired and it would do Dave good if he discovered that Emma wasn'tabove a little extra-relationship flirting. Maybe he'd start toappreciate her.

‘So, what are we having?' asked Charles.

‘Ithink it should be a surprise,' said Annabelle. 'Then we can all guess!'

‘Aslong as none of it's poisonous,' said Jeremy.

‘Of courseit's not poisonous!' said Annabelle, who obviously found Jeremy irritating, inthe way that women often found theirpartner's male friends irritating. 'William's been doing this for ages!'

‘AndI think I should go back and check on it all,' said William. 'I'm not used to having to leave my cooking andmake polite conversation.'

‘I'llcome with you!' declared Annabelle and dashed after him.

Floralooked up at Charles. He didn't seem remotely bothered.'Don't you mind Annabelle spending all her time in the kitchen?'

‘No. It'll make a nice change for her.’

And so,with Emma and Jeremy deep in the exchange ofinformation that goes on when people meet and fancy eachother, Flora was left to entertain Charles. She still couldn'tthink of a word to say to him. Her guilt loomed betweenthem and she couldn't get past it. She'd have to find anopportunity to do it. This was too painful. She put herglass down on the coffee table, which was a bitwobbly on the grass, and sank back into the sofa, wishing shecould go to sleep, then wake up and find that everyone had gone home.

‘So,what are we having to eat?' Charles asked. He was sitting on the armnow.

‘Doyou really want to know?' Flora wasn't quite sure of the details, having blanked out a lot of whatWilliam had said about the rules ofpicking from the countryside and whatyou could eat when. He could get a bit obsessive.

‘No. I was just making conversation.’

Flora chuckled. 'We could talk aboutwork.'

‘Wecould, but I don't think we should.' But he did smile as he spoke.

‘No.And I can't show you the kittens because really, they haven't changed at all since you last saw them.'

‘They werevery sweet. I wouldn't mind seeing them again.'

‘Well,you could pop up and have a look. You could see how tidy my bedroom is now. But I won't come with you. Imust stay down here and see to things.'

‘What things?'

‘Oh, you know, just unspecified"things".'

‘Then I won't bother with the kittensagain.’

Florawondered briefly if this was a good moment to get herapology out of the way. She and he could nip up, shecould say sorry, and they could nip down again. But Emmawould notice and perhaps say something embarrassing.

‘Ithink I need another drink,' she said. 'And I'll make it wine, thistime.’

He took her glass. 'Red or white?'

‘White, please.’

He was backwith it in an instant. If Flora hadn't knownbetter she'd think that Charles was being gallant. It couldn'tbe, it was impossible. Charles couldn't be gallantwith her any more than she could hang-glide, but he was doing quite a good impressionof it.

‘Here'sto us, then,' she said, taking a gulp, realising too late it was probably quite the wrong thing to say. 'To Stanzaand Stanza, I mean.'

‘ToStanza and Stanza.' Charles raised his glass and looked down into her eyes. 'Which is