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

made her cry again. The little cottage had been the kittens' onlyhome. They'd been so happy here.Flora had been so happy here, in a way. She sniffed hard and wiped hernose on a tissue she found in her jacket pocket. It was one her mother hadgiven her, and it had shoes printed on it. The sight of it made her cry evenmore.

*

Flora had forgotten how awful Londontraffic could be, even on a Saturday, and realised that while the Land-Rover was perfect for country roads, it was a bithefty for the back streets of Clapham. But someone was on her side because she found a parking spot rightoutside Emma's house.

Emma musthave been looking out for her, because as soon as Flora opened the car door shecame running down the steps. She hugged Florafor some minutes. Then she said, 'That's an awfully big car.'

‘Iknow. And it's not even mine. Mine's still parked in the yard behind theoffice.’

Although she'd been away for less than aday, and wouldn't normally have gone into work on a Saturday, she felt a terrible pang of homesickness. 'It'sgreat to be here. I've missed London.’

Emma frowned. 'Let me help you in withyour stuff.' Then she looked at Flora's bags. 'Is that all you've got?'

‘Ididn't take all my clothes down with me. I'll have to get them out of the loft in the flat.' Usuallythe thought of delightful, but forgotten, little outfits to rediscoverwould have given Flora quite a thrill. Now they just seemed like clothes thatbelonged to a former life.

‘Well,come in, do. I've put a bottle in the fridge, or is it too early?’

As Floragathered up carrier bags and cases she decided that getting drunk was the onlyoption. 'I don't think it's too early at all. It's nearly lunchtime.’

The wine set Flora properly weeping. Shecurled up with her feet on the sofa and alternately sobbed and drank and told Emma her woes, until Emma got upand made cheese on toast.

‘Sorry, Ems, I am being the mostcomplete pain, I know. Do you want to talk about Dave?'

‘No. Not being in love with Dave anymore, if I ever was, I don't want to talk about him.'

‘Fair enough. Is there a corner shopthat might be open?'

‘Just offthe main drag. Why, what do you want?’

‘More wine and chocolate. At times like these a girl needs her props and so does her friend. We need a fewgood DVDs, too.’

They spentthe rest of the afternoon and evening eating chocolateand watching their favourite films. When Bridget Jones said, 'I choose vodka,'they both cheered.

Eventually it was bedtime, and Florastaggered into the spare bed feeling drunkand slightly sick. 'I'll feel fine tomorrow,' she said. 'I'll be strongagain tomorrow. I just needed today off.’

But shedidn't feel fine the next day. She pulled on the cashmere sweater over her pyjamas,having put the teapot on the windowsill inher room. It was stupid, she knew, but she felt the sweater was her lastlink with Charles, the nearest thing shewould ever have to having his armsround her. She didn't tell Emma this. She knew how tiresomebroken-hearted girlfriends could be but she couldn't snap out of it, no matterhow sternly she ordered herself to.

When Emma came home from spending theday with friends Flora was still in her pyjamas. She had made a cursory attemptto clear up the dirty tissues and chocolatewrappers from the day before, but she hadn't washed her hair or put on make-up. Even brushing her teeth seemed like a waste of time, though she didat least force herself to do that.

Emma didn't comment, and cooked themboth some pasta. She was being such a goodfriend, Flora realised. I must pull myself together soon or she'll go off me,and then where will I be? The next day, Flora was immersed in aprogramme about couples buying propertyabroad when her mother rang.

‘Darling,'she said carefully, 'I don't want to make you feel even worse, butthere's something I think you should know.'

‘What?Nothing's wrong with Dad, is it?'

‘No, no. Nothing like that. It's justthat we've had a wedding invitation. FromAnnabelle's parents. To Charles andAnnabelle's wedding,' she went on as Flora still hadn't reacted.

‘Oh.' They'd obviously been sent out acouple of days before Flora had left. Annabelle wouldn't call it off now, andFlora's last faint hope evaporated. 'That's it, then.'

‘It does rather look like it.'

‘Well,it's only what I knew already.'

‘I know. But I'm really, really sorry,darling.’

Flora ate apacket of custard creams even though she didn't like custard creams, possiblyhoping that the nausea would be a distraction from her utter misery.

When she heard Emma's key in the lock,she flew to the kitchen and began to peelsome onions to chop. She had to havesome excuse for her newly red eyes and nose.

‘Oh,Flo, what now?' Emma demanded, not convinced that pulling the brown skin off an onion could have had thateffect so quickly.

‘Mum rang. She's had a weddinginvitation. They're definitely going to get married. My life is over.'

‘Noit's not! You knew they were going to get married. You're no worse off than you were before.' Emma wasobviously trying to ward off another Niagara-sized weeping session.

‘Iknow, but I suppose that deep down I'd been hoping that they'd had a huge row after I left. Isuppose I hoped that kissing me might have made Charles think twice,that he might have decided to cancel - or at least postpone - the wedding, but I shouldn't have let myself hope really.'

‘Well,you're not to let it make you slump into despair. I know it's hard but loungingaround all day in a sweater that's far too big for you isn't helping.'

‘It'sa lovely sweater,' said Flora, clutching its softness.

‘Itis, but it's making you soft. You'll have to get out - do something about getting a job. You can stayas long as you want, but I can't manage the rent here on my own. If youdon't pay me rent, I'll have to find someone else.'

‘Emma!'

‘Toughlove, sweetie. And you'd be so much happier if you were doing something.'

‘I'llneed a job before I can pay you.'

‘Haven't you got savings? Didn't theypay you at the auction house?'

‘Not really, not in a way that