Flora's Lot

by Katie Fforde

  *

  'It's just like it is on television,' said Virginia a couple of hours later. She was now in charge of the snack bar. Flora, just back from the supermarket, put two four- litre containers of milk down on the counter. 'Here you are. That should keep you going for a bit, anyway. It's amazing! We'll have made a fortune on the snacks alone.' 'A man was telling me that he and his wife had driven all the way over from Trowbridge. They were so excited to have their pot examined by Eric Someone.'

  ‘Oh, you mean the expert? He's awfully nice, isn't he. A real charmer.'

  ‘They were certainly very happy. Now, have you had anything to eat, Flora? You've been running about since the moment you got here, probably at sparrow's fart, looking after everyone else. Let me make you a nice ham roll.’

  Flora had been dreaming of ham rolls since about ten a.m. when she'd remembered she hadn't had breakfast. Now she hadn't had lunch, either. 'That would be lovely. I keep seeing people coming away from here with their trays and I've had to stop myself mugging them. I'd love a cup of tea, too.'

  ‘I'll make you a fresh one. Oh my goodness, look who's just come in.’

  Flora turned round. 'Annabelle!' She instantly felt guilty, convinced Annabelle was going to tell her off, although it was obvious the whole event was a stunning success.

  ‘It's all right, she's not coming over,' said Virginia. 'She's seen Eric Someone and has gone over to him.'

  ‘Phew. I'm sure I should still be writing down people's names and addresses and getting them to sign up to sell their treasures, or something more director-like.'

  ‘Keeping us supplied is very important, and Louisa's doing a great job, now her mother's come to take her little boy home. Don't you worry about Annabelle.’

  Flora didn't know her mixed feelings about Annabelle were quite so apparent. 'It was really kind of Louisa to come in on one of her days off.'

  ‘It's all hands to the pump at Stanza and Stanza - or it is now you've joined us.'

  ‘Virginia! That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me!'

  ‘It's only the truth. Annabelle, on the other hand, doesn't show anything like your commitment.'

  ‘But it's different for her.' Flora tried to be fair. 'It's only her fiancé's business, not hers.'

  ‘She knew what she was taking on when they got engaged, though.'

  ‘When you're in love, you don't always take practical things into consideration.’

  Virginia frowned. Flora was aware that all around them people were busy and felt guilty for wasting time, but she really wanted to know what Virginia had to say about Charles and Annabelle - because, personally, she found them rather mystifying. 'I don't think Charles and Annabelle were ever in love, really,' said Virginia after a moment's thought. 'Or if they were, it never showed when they were in the office together.'

  ‘I would think they're both quite private people, really. They wouldn't canoodle in public.’

  Virginia giggled. 'Canoodle! That's a nice old-fashioned word. But I didn't mean that, really. On the other hand, how can you tell what goes on in anyone else's relationship? It's hard enough to keep track of your own, sometimes. But with Charles and Annabelle it always seemed more like a sort of business relationship than anything else.'

  ‘Oh.' This tied in with what Charles had told her at the dinner party - not in so many words, but it gave the same impression.

  ‘Well now,' said Virginia, 'if you've had your tea, you'd better take some over to Eric Expert. He's about due for another cup.’

  Flora nodded. 'I'll find Charles first, and check on his name.'

  ‘Oh, he's got a huge queue. Take him some tea, too.’

  Flora set the cup and saucer at his elbow and Charles glanced up from the cow-creamer he had just described as 'having a nice touch of antiquity about it' and smiled. She felt inordinately pleased for a moment and then realised it should have been Annabelle who was supporting him, not her.

  Flora hadn't realised she knew so many people in Bishopsbridge, or that they knew her. So many people came up and said hello, all thoroughly enjoying themselves. 'That man off the telly told me my old pot's worth thirty pounds! Can you believe it! It was the dog's water bowl. Better buy him a plastic one instead.'

  ‘Well, my aunt died a couple of months back. I was going to get one of those house-clearance people in, but I reckon I'll get one of your lot over to value the furniture.'

  ‘That's the best thing to do,' said Flora. 'There's bound to be a few valuable things there.' Flora wasn't sure if she knew this woman or not, but as she seemed to know her, she carried on as if she did. 'Have a leaflet.’

  She'd gone back to the office to print off more fliers twice already, and had nearly run out again.

  Flora saw that Charles had handed his queue over to Geoffrey. The crowds were thinning now and he came over, carrying his cup and saucer.

  ‘I've asked Annabelle to open up the office to use as a temporary store. There are people who don't want to come back with stuff they've agreed to put in the next sale.' He looked at Flora, particularly at her dirty face and feet. 'We'll have to put on an extra one. We didn't have anything scheduled until the autumn.'

  ‘You must be thrilled, Charles,' said Virginia. 'This was a brilliant idea of Flora's.’

  Annabelle joined them. 'Yes, it was an amazing success. Who'd have thought it? How did everyone know they were going to be on television? Eric only agreed to come at the last minute. And then the local TV news turned up. It must have been pure fluke.'

  ‘Not quite a fluke, Annabelle,' said Charles. 'I did contact the news office.'

  ‘Yes, but why did all those people come?'

  ‘Flora put a very attractive advertisement in all the local papers,' said Charles.

  Flora looked down at her feet, which were now very grubby. She should have worn jeans, or a suit, not a skimpy summer dress and sandals.

  ‘I must say, Flora,' said Annabelle. 'You've turned out to be surprisingly useful.' She put her hand on Flora's shoulder. 'Come and have a little word. There's something I want to ask you.'

  ‘Don't keep her too long, Annabelle,' said Charles. 'She's been here since before dawn and must be exhausted.'

  ‘Not before dawn,' said Flora. 'I think Dawn and I arrived at about the same time.’

  He laughed, showing his teeth, which were very straight and white, either the product of good genes or good orthodontics.

  ‘I won't keep her long, you don't have to worry. There's just a little question I want to ask her about clothes. School reunion?’

  Trust Annabelle, thought Flora, to have ducked out of all the work involved in the roadshow and then just expect Flora to put her mind to what she should wear to her school reunion.

  Annabelle checked that the little room they had squashed themselves into, full of child-sized chairs and tables, plastic ride-on toys and space hoppers, was far enough away from the main hall to be safe from anyone listening. 'First of all, it's lovely that you and Charles are getting on better. He was so annoyed with you at first.'

  ‘I know.'

  ‘And I was thinking of wearing a navy suit, but' -she raised a hand in mock reproof - 'I knew you'd tell me off if I didn't add a scarf or something. What colour, do you think?’

  Aware that outside everyone was clearing up and sharing in the aftermath of their success, Flora tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'I really wouldn't wear a suit, Annabelle. Terribly matronly, unless you wear it with nothing underneath and show a lot of cleavage.'

  ‘Oh.'

  ‘And navy? It sounds more suitable for a Conservative Party meeting than a girlie night out.'

  ‘The Conservative colour is royal blue, you know.' Flora slumped in her tiny chair. 'So it is.’

  `So I won't wear the suit then, but there was something else I wanted to ask you.'

  ‘Yes?' Virginia and some of the others were going to the pub afterwards. Flora was hoping that Charles was going too. If Annabelle kept her too long, they might all go of
f without her.

  ‘Can you give me William's mobile number?’

  ‘He hasn't got a mobile.'

  ‘He hasn't! How on earth does he manage?’

  Flora shrugged, as mystified as Annabelle. 'Why do you want it, anyway?'

  ‘I've had an idea. It's a bit of a secret.'

  ‘What?' Annabelle didn't seem a 'secret' sort of person, really.

  ‘I want him to paint my portrait. As a wedding present, for Charles! Do you think he could do it by November?’

  It seemed terribly soon, somehow. 'Is that when the wedding is? What a funny time of year.'

  ‘Yes, it is, rather, but the abbey gets terribly booked up in spring and summer. It's also when Daddy's insurance policy matures, to pay for it.'

  ‘You're all practicality, Annabelle.'

  ‘I know, and a jolly good thing too. But I do think a portrait of me would be something Charles would really like. Don't you?’

  Flora thought. Her father had had a pastel done of her mother when they were first married, and it was a lovely thing to have. 'Yes, I do. And William did say . . Should she tell Annabelle what William had said? She decided that she should. 'He said he'd really like to paint you.'

  ‘Did he? Oh, that's so cool.’

  Flora laughed. It was nice to hear Annabelle using contemporary language. 'Mm.’

  Annabelle appeared inordinately pleased, but then, thought Flora, it was a nice thing to hear about oneself.

  ‘But how can I get in touch with him if he hasn't got a mobile?' said Annabelle, all practicality again.

  ‘I'll try and see if I can get a message to him.' She didn't want to say she could just ask William to ring her, as she didn't think Annabelle knew that William was more or less living with her.

  ‘Could you do that? He could ring me. But it would have to be on my mobile as I really wouldn't want Charles to find out. It would spoil the surprise,' she added.

  ‘I'll see what I can do.'

  ‘Do please try quite hard, Flora.'

  ‘I will!' Honestly, once Annabelle decided she wanted something, she wanted it immediately. Flora got to her feet, longing to go back to the others.

  Annabelle got up too. 'Tell me, Flora, rumour had it that you were going out with Henry Burnet?'

  ‘Oh, well, sort of.'

  ‘I just wondered why you didn't invite him to your dinner party, or was that because of Charles?'

  ‘I did invite him but he couldn't come. But why would Charles care? Don't he and Henry get on?'

  ‘No, not really, and I don't think he'd like it if he knew you two were going out.'

  ‘Why not?'

  ‘Henry's a bit of a bad lot, actually. Charles knew his ex-wife Natasha a little, and I think Henry treated her quite badly – I know Charles ran into her shortly after she'd found out about the affair and she was utterly distraught. He was horrified. And he feels quite protective towards his baby cousin.' She smiled, in case Flora was in any danger of misinterpreting the word 'protective'. 'Come on. Let's get out of this hell-hole. By the way, Flora, do you really think that dress is suitable for an event like today?’

  Chapter Fifteen

  The hall was nearly empty when they got back to it. Charles was there, looking impatient, and all the euphoria seemed to have evaporated. They were just in a dusty hall, waiting to go home.

  ‘The others have all gone to the pub, Flora,' he said. 'They wanted you to join them, but I thought perhaps we three might go out for a meal.'

  ‘That's a lovely idea,' said Flora, keen to celebrate their success. 'I'm starving.'

  ‘Oh good.' He seemed very pleased. 'Then let's think where to go.'

  ‘But, Charles,' said Annabelle sharply, 'have you forgotten? We're having dinner with Clarissa and Benjamin.'

  ‘Oh. I'd completely forgotten.' He looked at Flora, who instantly felt like a remnant from a jumble sale that no one wanted. 'Could we bring Flora with us?'

  ‘Don't be silly! They don't know her. And she wouldn't want to be dragged along and make things difficult for them!'

  ‘No, I wouldn't,' Flora agreed, suddenly feeling near to tears.

  ‘You go to the pub with the porters,' said Annabelle. 'Have a nice drink with them.’

  Flora knew she had to get out of Charles and Annabelle's presence very quickly or make the most awful fool of herself. 'Actually, I'm quite tired. I might just go home. Goodbye, both of you!'

  ‘Flora?' Charles called after her, but she didn't stop.

  Once in the car park, Flora took some deep breaths and thought about what she wanted to do. She could ring Henry. He'd already rung her during the sale and asked her out, but she'd hoped - assumed, possibly -that she'd be going out with the people she'd been working so hard with for the past few days.

  But if she went out with Henry now, while she was feeling so anti-climactic, she might drink too much and get maudlin and depressed. So, should she join Virginia and the others? No. She'd go home, have a glass of wine, and tell William that Annabelle wanted her portrait painted. Then she remembered she hadn't actually got Annabelle's mobile number. Oh well, she could always get it tomorrow.

  *

  As she drove home, summer seemed to gather its skirts, and prepare to leave. Thunder began to rumble and in the distance, sheet lightning lit the darkening sky. It had not yet started to rain, but the air smelt of it, and even London-bred Flora, who wasn't so aware of the signs, knew that when it came it would be torrential.

  The first spots of rain hit the windscreen as Flora turned the Land-Rover into the lane that led to the cottage. They were the size of pound coins and after the first few seconds, they became a waterfall. She slowed right down and swore mildly. As she negotiated the car through the rain the events of the day ran through her head. It would have been so nice to have gone out for a cosy meal with Charles and the others, and that hadn't happened, but otherwise it had been a huge success. People had come in droves and, according to Geoffrey, who was the only person she'd been able to ask, the quality of the items had on the whole been reasonably high.

  And there was Henry. She hadn't accepted his invitation for that evening, but when she'd said no, he hadn't sounded too fed up: he'd ask her again.

  It was only when she thought about Charles her spirits got low, which was silly. They were getting on much better and had really worked together well. That's all she wanted, after all. She was inordinately pleased to see William.

  After she'd had a hot bath and come down again in her dressing gown, he handed her a glass of wine. 'I expect you deserve that,' he said.

  ‘Oh, I definitely do!'

  ‘How did it go?'

  ‘Wonderfully. We had loads of people, the local paper sent someone and we might even be on the local news on telly.'

  ‘So, what's bothering you?' He handed her a bowl of sunflower seeds and cashew nuts that he had roasted in the oven and sprinkled with soy sauce.

  ‘Nothing. Why do you ask?'

  ‘You're just not your cheery little self, that's all. And if something you've organised has gone really well, you should be on cloud nine.’

  Flora took a sip of wine. She'd been trying hard to convince herself that she was perfectly fine, but she wasn't, really. 'I expect I'm just tired. And I did think we might all go out for a meal together, afterwards. But Charles and Annabelle had plans. Oh! Annabelle! I nearly forgot. She asked me about you.'

  ‘I thought she'd done all the checking out and I came out with top marks.'

  ‘You did! That's the point. She wants you to paint her portrait.'

  ‘Oh? A commission? That's nice. We were talking about it a bit the other night, but I didn't realise it was a portrait she had in mind.’

  Flora frowned. 'What did you think, then? Beautiful as it is, I don't think she can be after you for your body. She's engaged to my cousin.'

  ‘The estimable Charles. Well, if you say so.'

  ‘I do say so! Annabelle is just not the type to cheat, it would all be far too mess
y for her. She wants a portrait as a wedding present for Charles, which I think is a very nice idea.'

  ‘It is.'

  ‘The only problem is, I forgot to get her mobile number to give you, but I can get it tomorrow.'

  ‘Hmm. I wonder what sort of portrait she had in mind.'

  ‘Oh, very conventional, I should imagine. Possibly like the old photos they used to put in Country Life, when they looked naked but for their pearls.'

  ‘That would be a good choice for Annabelle. She has lovely arms and shoulders.’

  Personally, Flora thought Annabelle's arms were on the large side, but she didn't comment. 'You'd be happy to do it, then?’

  At the office, everyone was very buoyant about the previous day's activities, especially Geoffrey. 'Charles is talking about me doing a bit of selling. I've done it before, of course, years ago, but it's been a while.'

  ‘And Virginia's daughter is going to put the better items up on the website,' said Louisa. 'When she's created it, of course. But she says it won't take too long because she'd done a bit of work on it before.'

  ‘I can't think why you haven't had a website long since, Charles,' said Flora, feeling a bit flat in the face of everyone else's optimism.

  ‘It's hardly been worth it up till now. We're just a small country auction house, after all,' said Annabelle, deputing herself to speak for her fiancé. 'But we got some good stuff in yesterday, didn't we, Charles?' She paused.

  ‘Yes. One old lady had about a dozen carrier bags of silver. All completely black, but Georgian, some of it.'

  ‘And there was that wonderful Art Deco tea set with triangular handles that Eric valued. He was really enthusiastic. Are you OK, Flora?’

  Flora hadn't been aware that she'd been less than sparky. Honestly, first William and now Annabelle thinking she was miserable - she must remember to smile more. 'I'm fine!'

  ‘You just seem a little . . . flat. Doesn't she, Charles?’

  Flora did not want to have to listen to Charles speculate on the state of her spirits. 'I'm fine, really, it's just that William - you know, from the dinner party?’