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

‘Shallwe start with the chest-on-chest?' said Geoffrey. 'As it's in herealready?'

‘Goodidea. Thank heavens there's two of us, Geoffrey,' she went on as they heaved the heavy furniturearound. 'It's too much for anyone ontheir own. Do you think we can get itin front of the sheet, or shall I try to think of something else?'

‘We'll manage it all right between us.’

Flora wasbreathing hard by the time they had eased it out frombetween a couple of commodes and got it inposition. 'Now I'm going to have to practically climb out of the window to getit all in. Perhaps if I stand on this chair . . . It's all right, I'll put thisbit of cloth on it - it's not an antique camel rug, is it? OK. You couldn't just pullout the corner of the white sheet. It looks a bit . . .That's better. Now smile, please. Look natural.’

Geoffrey chuckled.

‘Well,it's important it looks its best. I think this is the piece Charles's genuine television expert was soenthusiastic about.'

‘Televisionexpert! Honestly, what do they know?' said Geoffrey.

‘Butit is a nice piece. It might go for three grand if it's properly advertised and the buyers turn up.George the Third, he thought.'

‘Well,I'm not saying he's got the date wrong, but those are London prices, ifyou ask me.’

Thechest-on-chest duly recorded, Geoffrey and Flora edged itback to its nook in the corner. 'So why is there such ahurry to get all this photographed?' he asked again,wiping his brow with a tartan handkerchief.

‘It's partly so there's plenty of timefor dealers to realise that Stanza andStanza have decent stuff to sell. Becausewe've been a bit down-market in recent years, with few real antiques, we've got to build up our reputation. If the stuff is on the website, and allthe links are right, the dealerswill find out we're here, so to speak.'

‘You're notgoing to be working all day, are you?' said Geoffrey,lifting a table with the skill that revealed his years of experience.

‘Ohno. I've got a date tonight, with Henry. Grantly Manor. Charles was not pleased to hear about it. He seems to think Henry's some sort of Lothario andI won't be safe.'

‘He'sonly looking out for you, as he should,' said Geoffrey, taking on the appearance of someone about to give alecture.

‘Don'tyou start, Geoffrey!' said Flora. 'A girl's got to have a bit of fun. Now, what's next? And don'tlet me forget to fax Henry a map.’

*

'It'salways cheering, getting ready for a date,' said Flora to Imeldaand the kittens. 'I'm determined to have a good timetonight. I deserve one! I've worked very hard lately,and Henry is fun.' She thought briefly of someone she wouldnot describe as fun and then pushed him out of hermind. Henry liked her, he was very attractive and most of allhe was available, so she was determined to giveherself one more shot at developing a crush on him.

She put onher prettiest dress, did her hair and her make-upcarefully, and put the shoes with the peony on them into a bag. Her mother, whowas a fount of slightly dubious advice, had always told her tohave running-away shoes to hand, in case. She'd also told herto keep enough money for a taxi home in her bra, in caseshe got separatedfrom her handbag.

‘So?'she asked Imelda, lacking anyone with more sartorial sense. 'Do I lookOK?’

Imeldapurred obligingly, and turned her attention to Charles'sfavourite kitten, who obviously needed a very thorough wash.

‘I'lltake that as a yes,' said Flora and sprayed herself liberally with scent, realising too late it wasrather sexy, and was best appliedsparingly. She shrugged and went downstairsto wait for Henry. She'd faxed him a map which Geoffrey, obliging but reluctant, had drawn for her.

She hadbarely had time to plump up the cushions and throwthe dead flowers into the fireplace before she heard Henry's car drive up.

‘The map worked OK, then?'

‘Very well.' He kissed her cheek. `Mm.You smell gorgeous.'

‘Yousmell quite nice yourself. Shall we go?' She picked up her pashmina and her house keys, called'Goodbye' to Imelda and they left thehouse. Henry's car was an old Jaguar XK120. 'Mm. Nice car,' shemurmured, thinking that it was exactly thesort of car she'd thought Henry would own.

‘A bit of a cliché, I'm afraid. I boughtit in a fit of rebellion after Natashaleft, taking most of my worldly goods with her. This represents most of whatwas left. Fifteenth-hand, ofcourse.' He opened the passenger door and Flora slid in.

GrantlyManor was everything its name and reputationpromised - a venerable old house set back from the road and arrived at via acarriage sweep. A good-looking young man arrived to park the car.Flora was impressed.

Henry wasinvesting quite a lot of what he didn't spend on the carto show her a good time. Good for Henry!

‘It would be better if they drove youhome again afterwards,' he said, relinquishing his keys, 'but I suppose thatwould be rather expensive.'

‘I could drive, if you like. That's avery nice car.'

‘Not that Idon't trust you, Flora, but it's only insured for me to drive.'His grin became rakish. 'Besides, this way, I canply you with alcohol and stay perfectly sober myself.'

‘Notthat I don't trust you, Henry, but I won't drink too much, I don'tthink.’

Helaughed, and ushered her into a panelled bar furnishedwith comfortable-looking sofas and small tables.Although it was summer, and not cold, a small log fire smouldered in the huge grate.

‘Thisis gorgeous!' said Flora. 'I love having fires in summer. It's sodecadent, somehow.'

‘Theydo pay attention to detail. I think that's the secret of a really good hotel or restaurant. So, what can I getyou? A glass of champagne?'

‘Mm,that would be lovely.' Flora smiled and settled back into the cushions.

Henrybrought menus with the drinks. Flora took hers. 'Why don't youhave the oysters?' suggested Henry. She looked at him over the top ofher menu. 'I don't think Iwant an aphrodisiac.’

He laughed. 'I thoughtthey only affected men.'

‘I thinkI'll have the smoked salmon, as I don't want to leave room for pudding.' She regardedhim. 'My mother has an old recipe book thatsays "Never trust a man who refuses apple dumplings".'

‘I never do. Are they on