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

way into a thickly carpeted bedroom that wasas bland and tasteful as the sitting room. She pulled open the door of a row ofmirror-fronted cupboards.

‘OhAnnabelle! What a fantastic wardrobe!' Flora, who had taken a hefty sip of wine on her way up the stairs, sank on to the bed and stared at themasterpiece of space-saving,categorising and colour co-ordinating before her.

‘I thought you'd come to trash mywardrobe,' commented Annabelle, taking adeep drink from her own glass.

‘Thecontents, not the thing itself. It's completely fab. I want one.'

‘Not in the holiday cottage you don't.'

‘No, but where I end up eventually.'

‘Igot a firm in to do it for me. Charles was all for getting a little local man to do it, but I felt Iwanted a professional. It's aninvestment, really. It will add value to the house.'

‘Quiteright,' said Flora, not sure she agreed with herself. 'Now, let's get started.' If they hung around too long they would both fall asleep and Charles wouldfind them on the bed together,possibly snoring lightly, which wouldworry him in all sorts of ways. Besides, she was beginning to miss herkittens. 'All round-necked jumpers, out.'

‘But—'

‘Theymake your boobs look like bolsters, even with the new bras. You can try one ifyou don't believe me. Oh, and polo-necks.'

‘But it gets so cold in winter!'

‘OK,keep the polo-necks, but just remember they won't flatter you.’

Thesuper-deluxe wardrobe system meant a pile of unsuitablesweaters were soon placed neatly on the floor.

Flora nowgot off the bed and started going through the raildesignated for shirts and blouses. 'Pie-crust, pie-crust,pussy-cat bows.' A pile of Liberty prints hit the floor.'And any of these that go straight down should go reallyunless you promise to tuck them in. They should bea bit fitted, or you get too much bulk in your waistband.Those have to go anyway. Those flowers are too busy.'

‘Ialways wear that under a jumper, so you only see the collar.'

‘Would that be ajumper with a round neck?' Annabelle nodded ruefully.

‘Then you won't be needing it any more, will you?’

‘But it's smart andcomfortable. I like it.'

‘It looks like a school uniform, only not in a sexy way.' Flora fixed her with a steely eye as she added theshirt to the discard pile. 'I'm notsure the flowers are quite right withyour skin. We really should get your colours done.'

‘No, that'sfine,' said Annabelle, obviously reluctant to submit to more tyranny. 'I trust you,Flora.'

‘Good!Now, skirts. Oh, this is wonderful! They're all neatly together. This is so easy. Knee length box-pleats haven't come back yet, Annabelle, and I don't seeit happening soon. Out! A kilt?' Shelooked at Annabelle who was lookinga little pathetic as all her favourite outfitswere cast aside. 'OK, you can keep the kilt, but promise me you'll only wear it in Scotland. Anywhere else it willmake your hips look enormous.'

‘But not enormous in Scotland?’

Florachuckled. Perhaps Annabelle did have a sense of humourin there somewhere. 'In Scotland, they're allowed.’

Incelebration of this dispensation, Annabelle went downstairs for the rest of the bottle.

‘ShallI make some pasta and salad? I've got one of those fresh sauces we could have with it?' Annabelle tore open apacket of nuts with her teeth.

‘It'ssweet of you, Annabelle, but I'd like to get back. My cat and kittens, youknow. But the nuts are lovely. Oh,look, a whole section for ball gowns. You are a party girl.'

‘Huntballs, mostly. Things like that. Oh, can't I keep that?'

‘Royalblue is quite a difficult colour, Annabelle, and look how high cut it is. It won't show off your boobs and will cling toyour stomach. You want something lowcut, but with sleeves. No frills, though,' she said, extracting something reminiscent of PrincessDiana's wedding dress. 'When you'reover thirty it's better to stick with something simple and sexy.'

‘OK.'Glum but obedient, Annabelle put a handful of peanuts into her mouth.

‘Now, shoes.'

‘Ihave to be comfortable, Flora. It's no good trying to make me teeter about on high heels. I can't doit.’

Flora wasmerciful in defeat. 'Well, just promise me you'll buy one pair of black courtshoes—'

‘I have three pairs of black courtshoes.'

‘Withheels. Even small heels. Just something. And remember, the more you pay for shoes the more comfortable theyare.'

‘Your mother's advice again?’

Floratried to remember. 'I think it was more something shetold my father after she'd spent a lot of money on some shoes. But it is true.’

They sankback on the bed and both dived into the nuts at the same time.

‘Thishas been quite fun,' said Annabelle. 'I didn't expect it to be, but ithas.'

‘Ithink you'll enjoy the new you. I should take you up to London to get your hair cut, really, but Iexpect there's someone down here who's quite good.'

‘You're positive I must have it a bitshorter?’

Floranodded. 'And a few layers. It looks lovely now, forinstance, when it's all mussed up from you trying on jumpers.And I was right about the bolster, wasn't I?'

‘I suppose so.Now I want to go out and show off my new look. When can you arrangethat little dinner party? The one you're giving so I can checkout the naked man in your garden.’

Floragiggled. 'You make it sound like there's always one there.'

‘Isuppose they do mostly come in bronze.' She sighed, and it occurred to Flora that she was probablyvery tired.

‘I thought I'd do it when my friend fromLondon, Emma, comes down for the weekend.She was at university with William.'The wine had gone to Flora's head alittle and she couldn't remember if she was supposed to know William's name or not. She blundered on.'It's more fun if there are severalpeople there, don't you think?'

‘Yes. . .' Like cats, they both became alert as they heard a key in thedoor. 'There's Charles.’

Florashifted to the edge of the bed and got up. 'I'll run downand see him, tell him not to have a drink until he's driven me home, while you make sureyou're looking completely fab.’

Annabellegot up off the bed and smoothed her top down overher skirt. 'OK, but there's no need for you to hurry down. We're up here, darling,'she called, hitching up her breasts. 'In thebedroom. Can you drive Flora home?’

Charlescame up the stairs and stood in