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

It was a heavenly summer evening, and Flora longed to have someone to share it with other than Imeldaand her four littlekittens. She parked the Land-Rover and got out, enjoying the sudden quiet after the noise ofthe engine.

‘Itwould be different in winter,' she told herself. 'You wouldn't want to live here then.’

As she unlocked the front door she realised howtired she was. She'dbeen on her feet all day and done more physical work than she'd ever done in her life. Butshe'd loved it. Thepeople were what made it, she decided. Apart from Annabelle, who'd been relentlesslyunfriendly and dismissive,and Charles, whom she'd hardly seen, everyonehad been so kind and helpful. And more than that, they'd made her feel one of the gang, not likean irritating outsider.

After she'd dumped her bag on the table she went upstairs to see Imelda and the kitts, who seemed tohave grown since the morning.

Imelda was very pleased to see her, obviouslythrilled to have someadult company after a long day alone with the kids. She purred and purred as Flora strokedher, and then wenthungrily to her empty food saucer.

‘All right, darling, I'll be right up with a sachetof cat food. I got you some new flavourstoday!’

Flora ran downstairs, all her tiredness forgotten inher delight withher cat and kittens. Perhaps she should become celibate and just live with animals from now on. Animals didn't do stupid things like marrypeople because it wasassumed they would. Although, as she ranImelda's saucer under the tap to wash it, cats in particular did seem to pick owners who'd spoilthem. So perhaps menweren't as different from cats as all that.

She squeezed the food out of its pouch, thinkingabout her cousin. Hewas dyed-in-the-wool stuffy and she didn'tlike him, but unless Annabelle stopped being so controlling about the business, she didn't think heshould marry her. WhatVirginia had told her about Annabelle's plans for Stanza and Stanza had really got to her,and as Flora didn'tfeel she knew Charles anything like well enough to tell whether he would let Annabelle bullyhim, she wasn't going to take the chance. She was staying, at least until the old family firm - ifnot the whole of Bishopsbridge - hadjoined the twenty-first century.

Imelda joined her in the kitchen, rubbing againsther legs in anattempt to make the food come quicker. Flora sighed, recalling Annabelle's bossiness at thesaleroom. With or withoutcontrol, it would take something cataclysmic to turn Annabelle into a niceperson. And she wasn't entirely sure Charles deservedthe effort -although everyone else around her probably did.

Flora opened a bottle of wine and a packet of nuts and then went upstairs to run a bath. Aware it wasprobably hugelyextravagant, she had left the immersion heater on all day rather than riskthere being no hot water when shegot home. She'd been warned she'd be filthy.

She found herself nodding off in the bath anddecided to abandonsupper. She brushed her teeth in a cursory manner and tumbled into bed, the damp towel still around her. And, very quickly, she slept.

In fact, she overslept. When she woke, still tangledin the towel, she realised it waspast eight o'clock and Charleswas expecting her at the saleroom at eight-thirty.

She hurled herself out and started dragging clothesout of the wardrobe. She put onher knickers but clutched herbra and her dress to her, planning to put them on while the kettle was boiling. She was halfway downthe stairs when shescreamed. There was a man standing in the sitting room, looking at her.

‘Please don't be frightened,' hesaid, a startled look on his face.The speaker was extremely tall and lean and was wearing clothes so faded it was hard to tell what colour they'd started life as. He had long curlyhair and the bluest eyes Flora had seen for a long time. His nose was aquiline and his mouth beautifully curved.And his voice was low and melodicwith no discernible regional accent.

Flora screamed again briefly and fled back into her bedroom to put on her dress. She abandoned the bra.She could run out to theLand-Rover without that. She went back to the top ofthe stairs.

‘I won't do anything to hurt you, Ipromise. I've been here all night,' he said anxiously.

Flora was tempted to scream retrospectively. Allnight she'd beensleeping, naked, on her bed with the door half open, while this completely strange, althoughshe had to admit notparticularly threatening, man slept on her sofa. It was an outrage.

Imelda came to rub against her legs, probably wondering what the delaywith breakfast was.

‘Hello, puss,' said the man, andImelda, the traitress, tripped downthe stairs towards him. She allowed him to rub her ears for a moment and then looked up as if to say,'Perhaps you'll give me breakfast?'

‘Look,' said Flora, 'you can't sleephere. I live here. This is my home. You must leave! Immediately!'

‘I've been sleeping here on and offall year,' he said apologetically.'The window in the kitchen is very easy to open and I spent most of thewinter here.'

‘Oh God!'

‘And I've boiled the kettle. Wouldyou like some tea?’

‘No! Imean, you can't offer me tea in my own house!’

‘I realise it's not quiteusual, especially when we haven't met,officially, but it seems the least I can do in the circumstances.’

Flora came down the stairs. She was dying for tea. She was desperate to feed Imelda so she could go towork, but there was this man.'The least you can do -in factthe most you can do - in the circumstances is to leave. Now. So I can get ready to go to work. Andfeed my cat.'

‘I could do that for you.'

‘But I don't want you to! I want you to go!' The whole situationwas ridiculous and Flora just wanted it to be over.

‘I will go, if you'resure, but wouldn't you like tea first?’

Flora came further into the room and could see through the kitchen doortwo steaming mugs. She remembered thatshe'd had two glasses of wine and no water the night before. No wonder her mouthfelt stuck together with glue.

He saw that she was tempted and went to fetch one of the mugs. 'Do