Flora's Lot by Katie Fforde (best books under 200 pages TXT) 📗

band sheused to keep her hairback. 'Well, go and see if you can help Geoffrey then. I'm certainly too busyto supervise you.'

‘I'll take you to him,' said Charles.

‘No, no, I'm sureyou've got lots to do. I'll find him myself.'Flora smiled and waggled her fingers in a way guaranteed to make Annabelle want to shoot her. Unable to do this, Annabelle turned her irritation onone of the two women beside her, whoproduced the required piece of paper with admirable calm.

As she made her way through the furniture she wondered if it was worth trying to get on with Annabelle. Would she ever be able to drink instant coffee ata kitchen table with her, or share abottle of wine in an overgrown garden and talk until it was too cold to stayoutside any more? It seemed terriblyunlikely, but she did so want to gether hands on Annabelle's wardrobe. Today she was wearing a shirt-waister that was just the wrong length, and not quite on her waist, with a Puritancollar. And in spite of the heat shewas wearing quite thick navy bluetights. As for the navy blue velvet Alice band - was the woman stuck in a time warp? Perhaps that was it, Bishopsbridge was in a time warp wherepeople still made 'good marriages' topeople chosen by their parents, andfashion never dared encroach in case it frightened the horses.

Flora tracked Geoffrey down. in a kitchenoff a side hall. He wasmaking tea for, it appeared, about twenty. With him were several people she vaguelyrecognised.

‘Hello,Flora,' one woman said warmly. 'Do you take sugar?'

‘Hello.Sorry, I don't think I know your name.'

‘We're in the choir,'the woman explained. 'Several of uswork as porters, part time. Not like Geoffrey, who's full time.'

‘I thought porters were men, on thewhole, so they could shift things.'Flora then blushed, worried in case she'dsaid something enormously politically incorrect.

‘There'slots more to portering than moving furniture,' said another familiar face. 'We spend hourssorting the boxes,sticking on labels, making lists. You don't need brute strength for that.'

‘While we're on the subject,' said awoman wearing a badge with 'Jenny'printed on it, 'don't forget that Dennis likes the bag left in his tea.'

‘Come and help us up on the stage,'suggested the woman from choir who Flora was fairly sure was one of the subversivesecond sopranos. 'That's where the smallerstuff is: valuables, collectables, things like that. There's a mountain of things which needlabelling. If you get confused aboutwhich vendor sent what, you're in real trouble.'

‘Annabellesaid I should be with Geoffrey—'

‘Don't take any notice of her. She doesn't know what she's talking about.' Jenny leant inconfidentially. 'She's not qualified, you know, or even working for herexams.’

‘Oh?'

‘She just thinks she knows everythingbecause she did a bit of chinamending at a course she went on once, when she was a girl.'

‘She's still quite young,' protestedFlora. Annabelle was almost certainlya bitch but she was probably still in her twenties, early thirties atmost.

‘And because she's got Charlestwisted round her little finger. Myname's Virginia, by the way,' the woman from the choir added. 'I was standing behind you in choir. I don't know what Charles sees in thatwoman.' She sighed.

‘Oh, you know it's because theirparents were such friends,' saidJenny helpfully, 'and then Charles's parents died - were they related toyou, Flora?'

‘Oh yes. Can't quite remember how,'said Flora. 'It was awful when they died. I was very young, but my mother was really upset.'

‘So they've known each other all their lives.'

‘Ah,' said Flora, trying to imply shethought this was sweet, whenactually she thought it was a shame to miss the fun of the chase. Of course one often went chasing off downblind alleys, but it was fun all the same.

‘We'll take our teas now, Geoffrey,save you carrying them up thestairs,' said Virginia. 'Flora, grab that packet of biscuits, will you?’

Flora exchanged glances with Geoffrey, to check withhim that this plan wasappropriate, and he nodded. 'The girls will look afteryou,' he said.

‘Geoffrey!'they chorused. 'That should be "pre-women"!'

‘Away with you,' saidGeoffrey, unchastened.'Or I won't makeyou tea again.’

Virginia flapped her hand, obviously not remotely concerned by political correctness from Geoffrey.'Girls" is OK among friends.'

‘Are you lot going to do any worktoday?' Geoffrey demanded.

Up on the stage, amid piles of boxes, crumpled newspaper and more extraordinary items than Flora couldhave imagined existed, she wasgiven a sheet of stickers. Virginia,who seemed to be loosely in charge of the others, said, 'All these items need a sticker with"KGC" on it. Makesure nothing gets left out. Charles will come along later and do the lotting, and we can put thingstogether in boxes, but untilwe know which of this rubbish is valuable and which isn't, wemark everything.'

‘But can't you tell what's worth selling?' Flora regarded a box with a stuffed and mounted Jacob's sheep's head in it. The horns had fallen off andwere lying next to the glassy-eyed face.

‘We have a fair idea but there'soften a jewel among the junk and wecan't take chances. Imagine if you're thevendor, wanting every penny from the sale. It would be awful if something really valuable got missedand sold in a miscellaneous box.'

‘I see.'

‘And of course we have to make surethere's something tasty in every box,not just rubbish, or no one will buy it.'

‘I see.'

‘And you can't mix up the vendors, even if there is themissing jug from the tea set from another lot. The buyer just hasto buy both lots and make up the set himself.'

‘Do you ever buyanything yourselves?' Flora asked, putting a sticker on to a plasticcuckoo clock.

‘Oh yes. My husband says I get paidin antiques. You develop an eye, andif you wait long enough you'll get your bargain. Then you can do it up and sellit, if you don't want it for yourself.'

‘I can see the attraction,' saidFlora, spotting a very pretty littletea set with only five cups. 'Are you allowed to bid?'

‘You tell Charles if you'reinterested in a lot and then he'llknow to look up here when it comes up. Annabelle won't though. She'sjust awkward.'

‘No one seems to like her, poor woman,' said Flora. 'Poorwoman indeed! She comes from a very wealthy family and