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

throat.' But she didn't,she just said, 'Mm,' in agreement. It was all she could manage.

At last hepulled up outside the cottage. 'If I came in and saw youwere all right, made you a hot drink, would you think I was trying to seduce you?'

‘No,Charles,' she said, in control at last. 'That is the absolutely lastthing I would think.'

‘I wouldn't everdo anything to hurt you, Flora.' Not on purpose, no, she thought.

‘Then makeus some hot chocolate, if there's enough milk,while I get into my nightie.' She opened the door of the cottage.

‘Actually, don't get into your nightie.'

‘Whynot? These black clothes are awfully hot.'

‘I'm not abloody saint, Flora!' He strode off into the kitchen and her spirits lifted, just atiny bit.

*

Floraslept surprisingly well. The hot chocolate and the memory ofCharles's chaste kiss on her cheek were very soothing. Sheheard her mother come in but didn't move. She needed her sleep.

Nextmorning, Hermione was full of praise once more. 'Well,darling, I have to say, I was very impressed. Very impressedindeed. And the choir are such a nice bunch. I had a lovely time at the pub lastnight.'

‘I am glad. They are fun, aren't they?’

`So, didyou find out what William and Annabelle were doing together?'

‘ApparentlyWilliam became part of their social life when Annabelle needed an extra man for something. He scrubbed up very well, I must say. I wasshocked to see him with Annabelle,though. But Charles was cool about it.’

Hermione glanced at her daughter, whowas crunching into toast and marmalade withenthusiasm. 'And Charles, he didn'ttell you that he and Annabelle werea terrible mistake and he was going to break off the engagementimmediately?'

‘No.Though he did hit Henry! It was awful and yet really funny, at the sametime.'

‘Whydid Charles hit Henry? It sounds very out of character.'

‘Itis, totally out of character. But he explained to me on the way home that he was Head of House atschool and so he's programmed to lookout for the younger boys.’

Hermione seemed confused. 'Are youtelling me Charles looks on you as someonehe has responsibility for?'

‘Yup.'

‘Oh, darling!'

‘I'dbe kidding myself if I thought any different, Mum. He does care about me, but only as a sort ofolder, terribly bossy brother.’

Hermionesighed. 'It's a pity. He'd make such a lovely dad. Think how sweet he is with thekittens?’

Floralaughed, as she was supposed to. They both knew thatif they went any deeper into this conversation,Flora might get upset. Neither of them wanted that when she was just going off to work.

*

As Hermionewas leaving a couple of days later she hugged herdaughter. 'You will be all right, won't you?'

‘Oh yes. Thesale is coming up and we're really busy.'

‘And will you see Henry again?’

Florawasn't too sure. Henry had phoned, mortified, the dayafter the concert to apologise for his behaviour. It had been so completely outof character for him that Flora, once she got over her angerabout the position he had put her in, was almost concernedfor him - and it turnedout she had reason to be. He'd apparently receiveda rather unpleasant phone call from his ex-wife earlier in the day to break the news, none too gently, that she was remarrying. That had come at aboutthree in the afternoon and he'dstiffened his sinews with a shot ofbrandy, and never really stopped after that. By the time Flora arrived on the scene, his hurt pride at Natasha moving on and building a new family whilehe remained alone had swelled to sucha point that he was determined toprove he had someone special in his life - and Flora had got in his way.

He wasclearly horrified at his own behaviour, and Floradidn't think there was any reason to worry he'd do itagain, but the incident still left a nasty taste in her mouth. Andshe rather thought their friendship had been soured by it.

‘I'mnot sure, Mum,' she said carefully. 'I'm not too sure Henry will want tosee me, to be honest.'

‘It'sa pity in some ways. You need a distraction.'

‘I'm working far too hard fordistractions.’

Hermioneshook her head. 'Working with Charles will not help! What about that niceWilliam?'

‘Williamand I don't fancy each other. We decided that ages ago.'

‘Whata shame!' Her mother hugged her again. 'Love can be such hell.’

Flora hadexpected to find meeting Charles after the concert atBurnet House embarrassing - he had behaved so extraordinarily, punching Henry - buthe was completely blasé about it.

‘Ididn't mention the matter to Annabelle, but I did send some rather good claret to his house, and hewas decent enough to thank me,' hesaid. 'But I do apologise again to you for involving you in a rather sordid incident.'

‘Oh, Charles, you are so stuffy! Sordidincident, indeed! You punched him! Drewblood! But I'm glad you've made it upwith Henry. It means I could see him again if I wanted to.’

He frowned. 'I don't think so.’

Florasighed. 'No, I don't think so, either. Oh well. Now, doyou want me to start putting numbers on?’

*

Everyonewas keyed up on the first morning of the sale. It was one of those golden mornings inearly September that make the passing ofsummer so poignant. As Flora drove through the countryside before therest of the world was awake, she was struck by its beauty, and wondered if she had accidentally become a ruralperson when, by rights, she should be a City slicker. She got to theauction rooms by seven. Charles was there by half past, and even Annabelle turned up by eight-thirty. This was thesale of furniture and effects resulting from the roadshow. The sale that would prove if Flora was remotely usefulto Stanza and Stanza or not - or that was how it seemed to Flora. But everyonefelt it was a new start, a step forward.

Unusuallyfor her, Annabelle helped Flora arrange the chairs. It amused Flora that all thechairs in any sale were put out for people to sit on. The logical conclusion tothis would be to sell cups of tea in the Mason's Ironstone tea sets and seat the punters at the Sheraton tables,but she kept this thought to herself. Annabelle was unlikely to understand.

‘These are pretty chairs,' saidAnnabelle. 'I might put in an offer myself.We've