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

not,' agreed Flora, disappointed that he couldn't crack a smile, even to be polite.

‘Flora can stay in the holidaycottage,' he went on.

‘Don'tbe ridiculous!' Annabelle dismissed this immediately. 'It's not fit for habitation. Otherwisewe would have let it.'

‘It's perfectly fit for habitation,'Charles contradicted. 'It's just notquite up to the standard required by the agency.'

‘It's in the middle of nowhere!' protested Annabelle. Charlesdidn't see this as a problem, in fact it was probably an advantage. 'Flora has acar.'

‘Yes, I have.' Florasmiled, not wanting this lovers' tiffto continue in her presence. 'The holiday cottage sounds wonderful.'

‘Honestly, you won't want to stay there,' said Annabelle. 'It's right out in the country, near some woods.You'll be terrified of the owls.'

‘You think?'

‘I don't want you ringing Charles atall hours of the night because you'refrightened of the dark,' Annabelle explained.

‘Of course not,' agreed Flora pleasantly. 'Just as well I'mnot frightened of it. And owls don't bother me, either.' 'Sorry!'said Annabelle. 'It's just that most people from London seem quiteincapable of coping with country sounds:mating foxes, owls, cat fights, stuff like that.'

‘When you've heard lions roar and elephants trumpet and there's only a thin bit of canvas between you and them, you don't worry about anything thatcan't eat you,' said Flora, believingthis statement to be true, even ifshe had no experience of anything like that herself.

‘Oh. Right,' said Annabelle,wrong-footed. 'I suppose not.'

‘Does the holiday cottage havesheets? Saucepans, a corkscrew?'Flora enquired tentatively, not wanting to cause more annoyance thannecessary.

‘I'll pop home and fetch some things.I've got plenty of bed linen,' said Annabelle. She unhitched a serviceable leather bag from a chair and extracted alarge bunch of keys. 'All right if I take the Landy, sweetie?'

‘Of course,' said Sweetie.

When she was alone with her cousin, Flora said, 'I think I should warn you, I do want to work here.I'll apply for thejob as a general assistant, if you want.'

‘I really don't think you'dlike it.'

‘You can't possibly know me well enough to say what I'dlike and what I wouldn't! We've only just met.’

‘I know but . .

‘But what?'

‘Did you used to go out with someone called Justin Mateland?’

Florabecame wary. 'Yes. Do you know him?’

‘We were at schooltogether.'

‘Oh, right.'

‘Yes.' Charles's hardblue eyes drilled into Flora long enoughto inform her that he considered she had behaved very badly to Justin. He didn't say it out loud, so Flora could defend herself, he just let her know thatthat was his opinion of the matter.

‘Now we've discussed our mutual acquaintance perhaps we could go back to the matter in hand?' she saidsharply.

‘Which was?'

‘The job? I was about to apply forit. If you could just give me a form I could fill it in.’

Charles sighed deeply. 'Oh, it's all right, youdon't have to do that.'

‘But if you've got other candidates to see . . .'

‘No. There are no other candidates. We've been advertising for the post for weeks, and no one remotely suitablehas applied.'

‘Why not?' This was a bit worrying.Had Charles got a reputation locallyfor being mean-minded with no senseof humour and a horrible employer? It seemed perfectly possible.

‘Because no one with anything aboutthem wants to work here.'

‘But why not?' She wasn't expecting him necessarily toadmit to the reason, but she might get some clue. 'The wages, dear cousin, are crap.’

Flora bit her lip. Not good news, but not as bad asit could have been. 'I see.’

When he was quite sure that Flora was sufficiently subdued by the prospect of working for practically nothing, in a firm who didn't want her, whileliving in a remote cottage in thewoods, Charles said, 'I must ring thesolicitor. Will you be all right here for a few moments? There are a fewmagazines . . .'

‘I'll be fine. You go and do your thing.' She smiled again, from habit, but hedidn't notice.

ChapterTwo

 While Flora was flicking through ancient copies of Antiques Trade Gazetteand strokingImelda's head through the box,wondering if she should just cave in andaccept the ten grand, there was a knock on the door and someone's head appeared. It was the sweet old man. Geoffrey someone.

‘Are you alone?’

Flora put down what felt like homework with relief. 'Yes. Charles is getting in touch with solicitorsand Annabelle's goneto get things for the holiday cottage, where I'm going to stay.' Sensing a sympatheticear, Flora took theopportunity to get her grievances off her chest. 'Do you know, she had the nerve to make outshe didn't know Iwanted to stay! I sent her an email making it quite clear. And apparently everyb. and b. in the town is full of musicians for afestival.'

‘That's right. Bishopsbridge hasquite a reputation for music. Our choir opened the festival last week.’

Flora smiled admiringly while Geoffrey Whiteread came into the room. 'So you're not running off backto London then?'

‘Not immediately, no.' Flora sighed.She was hot and tired and a bitdespondent, and wasn't quite sure how longshe'd be able to cope with being so unwanted.

‘Good.You hang in there. This place needs someone to shake it up.'

‘What makes you think I'm the one? Iknow nothing about the business.' All her early confidence had been dissipated by Charles's frigid attitude and thereality of her situation.

‘You're young. And you're family. Not like that Annabelle.'

‘Whenshe marries Charles she'll be family.’

Geoffrey shuddered. 'Just because they've knowneach other for everdoesn't mean those two should marry! Shedoesn't even like the auctioneering business!'

‘Thenwhy marry into it? Buy into it?' she added, remembering the ten-thousand-pound offer.

‘She likes control and if she marriesCharles, she'll have control.' Heperched on the edge of the table. 'She's already got some disastrous ideas for cost-cutting.'

‘What do they involve?' asked Flora.

‘Sacking me, number one,'said Geoffrey. 'She's right, I amold, but I've got more knowledge and experience of this business in my little finger than she'll have in a lifetime. She says we don't need a full-timeporter, that we can depend onself-employed staff. But all their sortinghas to be checked. Charles doesn't have time to do it.’

Flora sighed. 'The thing is, I know nothing about antiques and collectables, or whatever they'recalled. I can make themlet me stay, but I could just make everything worse.'

‘Or you could be