by Katie Fforde
Yes, Flora decided briskly, it was infinitely better that things returned to a businesslike, friendly but not too friendly footing.
She went into the spare room to retrieve the kittens and to feed Imelda. Everyone seemed fine after their night with Charles. Flora felt quite envious, and then chided herself. If anything had happened between them they would have hated themselves and each other now.
Charles had found some of the real coffee left over from the weekend with Emma and was making it. He had also found some bits of ciabatta, which he was toasting.
‘Why is everything worth eating in this kitchen Italian?'
‘Emma works near a really good Italian deli and brought a lot of stuff down,' Flora explained. 'I stuffed that ciabatta in the top of the fridge. It must be quite stale.'
‘It'll be fine toasted.’
Flora suddenly longed for a corner shop where she could buy fresh bread and orange juice. 'I don't have much time for shopping, myself.'
‘Nor you do.' He smiled at her, and for a moment Flora wondered if this having a slight crush was actually going to make things quite difficult. It couldn't, she decided. The business was far too important to jeopardise with random hormones.
She pulled up a chair and sat down at the little table. If he was happy making breakfast, she didn't want to interfere.
‘You've made this cottage very homely, Flora. Even if you don't have much time to spend in it.'
‘I made an effort before the weekend, when Emma and you all came. But it is very sweet. I could happily live here for ever.'
‘I'm so glad. I would have thought you'd have got lonely.’
Flora shook her head and sipped the coffee he placed in front of her. She didn't like to tell him she usually had tea, first thing. Or that she'd had very little experience of living in the cottage alone.
‘I hope Annabelle's all right,' she said, after a moment's mastication.
‘Why shouldn't she be?'
‘No reason. Some women might be a bit miffed if their fiancé spent the night with another woman.'
‘Annabelle and I have far too good an understanding of each other for her to worry about things like that.’
Flora frowned. This sounded just a bit too complacent, in her opinion. It wasn't as if there hadn't been an undercurrent of something not quite platonic between them the previous evening. 'Oh. Very modern of her.'
‘She knows she can depend on my sense of responsibility, in all things. Some things are too important to endanger.' He took a sip of coffee and looked across the table at her, as if making a point. 'Sometimes the grass appears a bit greener, but it never is if you do climb over the fence.'
‘I can't imagine you ever scrumped apples, Charles!' said Flora, to lighten the atmosphere, but in spite of all her best intentions, Flora couldn't help feeling rather crestfallen. There was absolutely no ambiguity in what he'd said - he was clearly slightly embarrassed about the atmosphere the night before and wanted her to know she shouldn't read anything into it.
‘You don't actually have to go into the lion's den to realise it isn't a very good idea,' he continued.
‘Do you talk in riddles to Annabelle every morning?' Flora asked slightly irritably.
‘I have to confess that Annabelle and I don't talk much in the mornings any more. We've reached that contented stage when you don't have to make an effort all the time.'
‘But to begin with, you did? All women like to be romanced, Charles!' She couldn't help it - she was intrigued.
‘One of the things that attracted me to Annabelle -when I was an adult, I mean—'
‘I know you've known each other for ever.’
He nodded. 'Was that she was so practical.'
‘A safe pair of hands,' said Flora. Of course she didn't know for sure but she was convinced that his heart had been broken by the woman he had met when he was travelling.
‘What do you mean?'
‘You saw Annabelle as someone reliable and steadfast.' He laughed. 'You make her sound very boring.' Flora laughed too. 'Of course not.'
‘I'm a man who sticks to things.'
‘Like chewing gum on the bottom of your shoe, you mean,' said Flora, not feeling nearly as flippant as she sounded.
‘We'd better get going,' he replied. 'I'll just wash these few things.'
‘Don't bother, I can easily do them when I come home, and you did all the washing-up last night.’
While Charles was brushing his teeth with Flora's spare toothbrush, Flora stacked the plates. The intimacy, the happy closeness of the previous evening had been spoilt, and she made a decision to put it entirely out of her mind. She and Emma had been wrong to think it was fun to have a crush on someone you work with. Sometimes it was a really bad idea. Just as well she had Henry to think about.
*
‘At least we've got boots on this time,' said Flora as they walked back to the car through the mud.
‘Yes. It was lucky for me that William left his behind.’
Flora wondered idly how William was managing without them, and why on earth he forgot them when it was raining so hard.
‘Do you think the car will be all right?'
‘If it isn't, I'll ring Annabelle's father and ask him if a tractor can come and get us.'
‘I have got some Sunday papers, if we could do anything clever with them.'
‘What we'd need would be old carpet, or something with some grip. I think it'll be the tractor or nothing.’
‘Oh God! Supposing the tractor can't come?'
‘We'll walk to the end of the lane and get a taxi or Annabelle to pick us up.’
Flora didn't think Annabelle would like that suggestion very much, but didn't say so. After all, she was his chosen one. It wasn't for her to comment.
‘This may not be a good time to discuss it,' said Charles, 'but after the roadshow, Bob and George were both really keen that I - we - should buy them out. They're both well past retirement age.'
‘And we could afford it if we sold the house?'
‘We haven't talked money yet, but I should imagine so.'
‘Well, let's do that then,' Flora said excitedly. 'We don't need a huge great building. We just need a little office somewhere.'
‘And I would like a flat. It's useful and when Annabelle and I get married we might move further away.’
‘Right.'
‘And we should buy somewhere for you to live, too. We could buy the holiday cottage from Annabelle if you liked.'
‘I'd have to think about it,' said Flora, wondering why the thought of living down here after Charles and Annabelle had got married was so depressing. 'Maybe somewhere a little nearer town might be more sensible.'
‘Whatever.'
‘On the other hand, how much is the building likely to raise? Buying out a couple of auctioneers, an office, a flat for you, a cottage for me - it's asking quite a lot of one building.'
‘If we do what Annabelle suggests, and convert it into flats first, we should manage it. But I agree, it might be stretching our resources too far.'
‘And it all takes time,' said Flora. If she did feel she had to leave, she wouldn't want to do it before Stanza and Stanza was on the way to profit, but she couldn't ask Charles and Annabelle to postpone their wedding. 'Although I'm quite happy in the cottage. Perhaps I should pay Annabelle rent.'
‘Actually, you are. Or rather I am, on behalf of Stanza and Stanza.'
‘Oh?'
‘I have a tiny private income. I can't get at the capital, but the interest is useful. Annabelle likes to keep her books in order,' he went on, 'but that's something else we must sort out.'
‘What is?'
‘The financial situation. We should know what money is the company's, and therefore yours too, and what is mine.'
‘I'm beginning to feel bad for not having a private income,' said Flora. 'It would make life so much easier.'
‘On the contrary, it's much better you not having one. If I hadn't had any other money to ke
ep me afloat, I might have gone on and got the business on a proper footing before now. Having you here, you needing to earn a living from it, has galvanised me, not before time.'
‘But you love the business! And you work so hard!'
‘Hard, but not smart,' he said thoughtfully. 'I've just kept doing it the way we always did it, making a loss year on year and taking no notice. That will all have to change now you're here.'
‘Well, I'm glad I have my uses.'
‘Oh, you do. Now, let's see if we can get this car to go.’
It took quite a bit of backing and filling and mud churning, but eventually the car was on the track and slowly they progressed along it. Once they reached the main road, Flora said, 'We're both quite muddy, actually. I expect you want to go home and get some clean clothes.'
‘I'd better. Now, would you like to come back with me and drink coffee while I sort myself out? Or would you rather go back to the office? I'm afraid going home and getting a change of clothes isn't really an option for you.'
‘Oh, take me to the office, please. I've got lots to do.' She didn't want to sit in Annabelle's drawing room sipping coffee, knowing Charles was showering on the floor above.
Flora did have quite a list of things to do, but before she had done more than wash the flecks of mud off her face, Geoffrey came and found her.
‘There's a bit of an emergency with choir,' he said. 'James rang me, quite late last night. It turns out that there's a problem at the house we were supposed to be doing our concert at.'
‘Oh dear.'
‘Yes. The valley guttering in the roof collapsed when it first started raining heavily. It so happened that James was on the phone to the woman who owns it shortly afterwards. She was in a terrible state.'
‘And so is her valley guttering, apparently,' said Flora, wondering what valley guttering was.
‘Yes. And it won't be fixed in time for the concert. We need a new venue.'
‘Couldn't we just cancel?' This option was very attractive for Flora as she didn't know any of the work very well. She'd welcome an opportunity to learn everything more thoroughly before performing it in public.
‘No!' Geoffrey was horrified. 'We've got an audience, practically ready made, and it's for a very good cause. We really can't cancel unless it's absolutely vital. Besides, the choir is getting paid and we need the money.'
‘Well, let's ask Charles if we can have the hall. We could get chairs from somewhere, it would be fine, I'm sure.’
Geoffrey shook his head. 'No, Flora.’
Flora had sensed that no simple solution would do for Geoffrey and that what he had in mind involved her, somehow. 'What then? It seems a good idea to me. We wouldn't have to pay to rent it, I'll see to that. It's local, there's parking, sort of. What's wrong with it?'
‘The concert has been advertised as "A Stately Summer: Music for a Summer Evening". The hall won't do. We need a wonderful house to have it in.'
‘I'm awfully sorry, Geoffrey, I'm fresh out of wonderful houses. Now, had you asked me last week . .
Geoffrey ignored Flora's flippancy. 'We know which house we want. We just need you to go and ask if we can use it.'
‘Why me?'
‘Because apart from the fact that you weren't at the meeting to say you wouldn't, you know the owner of the house.'
‘Do I?' She didn't think she knew anyone with a stately home.
‘Yes. It's Henry Burnet.'
‘Oh. Oh, Geoffrey, I'd much rather not.' It felt terribly awkward.
‘Why?'
‘You can't just bowl up somewhere and demand the use of a house to have a concert in! I would hate to make him think I was just using him.' She cast around for more reasons. 'He may not have a suitable room, for one thing.'
‘James knows the house. He says there's an orangery which would be perfect and has lovely acoustics.'
‘Then why doesn't he ask about it, then?' Flora asked tartly.
‘He's far too busy. He's got so much on at the moment. He'll go and check it out if we get permission to go there, but you have to make the first approach.'
‘But I'm busy! I've got a lot on, too! Why me? I'm not the only female member of the choir, you know.'
‘Of course, I know that, but you work for yourself, Flora. You can take time off when you want to. And you know the owner.’
As things turned out, however, Flora couldn't quite take time off whenever she wanted. In the aftermath of the roadshow Stanza and Stanza was receiving an unprecedented number of enquiries, and before Flora knew it it was six o'clock and she hadn't had a minute to think about going to view Burnet House and charm Henry into lending her his orangery.
So it wasn't until the next morning, after a couple of hours of catching up with all the admin she hadn't had time to do the day before, that she got round to Geoffrey's mission. Annabelle had delivered the Land-Rover back to Flora the morning after the storm - once out of the ditch it had turned out to be fine - so Flora wasn't expecting to see her in the office on a Saturday. But just as Flora was about to leave, she materialised.
‘Are you free for lunch, Flora? I feel I ought to take you out as an apology for putting the Landy in the ditch. Charles was furious.'
‘Oh dear, there was no need for that. But I'm afraid I can't make lunch today, Annabelle. I've got to go somewhere. Tomorrow, perhaps?' It seemed a good idea to put a bit more distance between her cosy evening with Annabelle's fiancé and a girly lunch.
Annabelle seemed genuinely disappointed. 'Where have you got to go?'
‘Somewhere Geoffrey told me about. It's a large country house, and I need to visit it personally'
‘Oh? That's interesting! Are they thinking of having a sale? Nothing could be better for us than a proper country-house sale. Hen's teeth these days, of course, but it would be a brilliant feather in our cap. Shall I come with you?’
The thought gave Flora goosebumps. 'Better not. It's Henry's house.' Frantically she tried to think of a good reason why she should see it on her own. 'I haven't seen him lately,' she lied. 'Things might be a bit tricky.'
‘Then better to have me with you, surely? I'd love a snoop round Burnet House. I hear it's lovely. Is it?'
‘I don't know! I haven't been there before, but I should go if I'm going. Thank you for rescuing the Land-Rover.'
‘It's all right. I was the one who put it in the ditch, after all. Was it all right having Charles to stay the other night?' Annabelle went on. She looked at Flora slightly questioningly. Was she asking if anything had 'gone on'? Flora wasn't going to respond to unspoken questions. Besides, Annabelle might scratch her eyes out if she got the answer wrong.
‘Oh yes. He did the washing-up and everything.
You've got him very well trained, Annabelle.’
‘Oh yes. He's very good. A perfect husband.' Flora smiled. 'Now, I must fly.'
‘We'll do lunch soon, Flora.’
Flora smiled and nodded absent-mindedly.
Sitting in the Land-Rover half an hour later, Flora had a road map borrowed from the office, she had a map drawn by Geoffrey, and she had a description of the house, but she still didn't know exactly where she was going. She rang Henry, to warn him she was coming, but there was no answer. He'd be surprised to see her turn up at his front door but, she hoped, not displeased. She couldn't quite decide how much Henry cared about her. Was he just after some fun and company, like she was? Or was his heart engaged? Either way, he was her only possible love interest, and should therefore be cherished.
She eventually found Burnet House. It was at the end of a long avenue of beech trees, and even in the aftermath of so much rain, looked beautiful. She turned the Land-Rover in between the open gates and made her stately way up the drive, which was heavily potholed. Before she'd even decided if she should park in front of the house, or try and find somewhere at the back, she'd become aware that the house was in desperate need of repair. She parked, got out, and then knocked on the door. The bell didn't work. She turned and r
egarded what had once been a lawn and was now a paddock. There seemed to be a ha-ha, but there was no stock to keep away from the house. If there was going to be a concert there, someone would have to do something about the grass. Perhaps a member of the choir had a ride-on mower.
Eventually, she heard footsteps approaching and braced herself, hoping it wasn't a stranger. 'Hello, Henry,' she said when the door opened.
Chapter Eighteen
‘Flora! How lovely to see you! This is an unexpected pleasure!'
‘Don't be too pleased, I'm on the cadge.' Flora felt hideously embarrassed.
His expression became quizzical. 'It's rather a long way to come to borrow a cup of sugar.'
‘Don't joke. It's not sugar I'm after, it's your house.’
‘My house?' Henry looked confused.
‘Not all of it. Look, may I come in? I could explain better if I'm not on the doorstep.'
‘Of course, but I should warn you, I don't usually do favours.’
His smile was mocking and very sexy. Flora smiled back. It was much more fun flirting with someone who wasn't engaged. 'Do something you don't usually do every day,' she said. 'That way life doesn't get stale.'
‘Oh? Have you become a life coach, or something since Thursday?’
Flora frowned. 'No. I'm still an apprentice auctioneer, but that's not why I'm here.'
‘Good. There's very little here of any value. Of anything at all, actually.'
‘That's fine,' said Flora. 'You have got an orangery, haven't you?'
‘Well, yes, but it's not for sale.'
‘I know!' She smiled again. 'I - we - only want it for one night. Not too much to ask, is it?' Flora was beginning to get the feeling that visiting Henry in his house might turn out to have been a mistake. Still, she'd promised the choir she'd ask about the orangery, and they'd been so supportive of her with the antiques roadshow and things, she had to give it a go.
‘We'd better go through to the kitchen.’
Flora didn't want to waste time being given coffee and biscuits. 'Could we cut to the chase and go to the orangery?'