Flora's Lot

by Katie Fforde

  ‘Then I might as well save myself the bother of going out. They'll know what I'm going for. Besides, I'm hungry again.'

  ‘Order some sandwiches, then — or something.’

  Somehow she wasn't surprised when, emerging from the bathroom a little later, she found not only club sandwiches, chips and two huge portions of profiteroles, covered with chocolate sauce and cream, but two packets of condoms.

  ‘Charles, you didn't ask for them? From room service? How could you? And I thought you were respectable!'

  ‘I was until I met you, then I realised that it wasn't a lot of fun. Have some chips. I suddenly wanted to eat all the things we didn't eat at the restaurant. And there are a lot of good things you can do with a profiterole.’

  Flora looked at her lover with admiration. Not so stuffy, after all.

  Previously unaware how hungry she was, she picked up a sandwich and wondered how to get it into her mouth. Then she pulled out the cocktail stick that was holding it together and, somehow, took a bite. After a couple of mouthfuls she suddenly had a thought.

  ‘I must ring Emma,' she said, horrified that it hadn't occurred to her before. 'She'll be worried if I don't come home!'

  ‘Surely not. You're a grown-up, after all.'

  ‘I can be home late, but I can't not come home at all without telling her. Where's my phone?'

  ‘Use the hotel phone.’

  She shook her head. 'Can't remember her number. Pass me my bag, could you?’

  She watched as he reached over for it and saw the muscles in his back ripple. If they moved to a really warm country, she decided, they need never put clothes on again. But perhaps having all that male beauty covered most of the time was in a way actually more exciting.

  She took the phone and got back on to the bed before pressing the relevant buttons. She pulled the sheet up a little to partially cover herself. It would be more enticing if he couldn't look at her completely naked. After all, if he'd gone to the trouble and embarrassment of ordering the condoms, it would be an awful waste not to use them.

  Emma had begun to worry. 'Did you meet someone nice at the gallery and go out for drinks?' The optimism in her voice was almost painful.

  ‘No. I'm in a hotel.'

  ‘Darling! Why? Check out immediately and come home.'

  ‘I haven't got any clothes on.'

  ‘What! Then get dressed! Have you just had a bath? I expect they'll make you pay if you've messed things up.'

  ‘I have messed things up.' Flora looked at the chaos about her. Clothes, bedcovers, and now plates of food, all over the place. The box of safety pins had come open and was now scattered on the carpet. 'And I've no intention of getting dressed.' She shot Charles a look which caused him to come and sit on the bed. He took her breast in his hand and caressed her nipple with a knowing finger. 'Don't do that! Emma? Sorry. You may have gathered I'm not alone.' She giggled, in spite of trying not to.

  There was an audible silence from the other end of the phone. 'Darling, I know you're hurting just now, but do you think a one-night stand is going to make you feel any better? How will you look yourself in the mirror in the morning?’

  Flora felt it was time to put her friend out of her misery. 'It's all right, I'm with Charles.' Then she held the phone away from her ear while Emma screeched.

  ‘Oh my God! That's so romantic!'

  ‘It is, rather. But, obviously, I can't talk much now . .

  ‘I want all the details, just as soon as you can tell me. Oh, that's so sweet! I'll let you go now.' She was still cooing as she disconnected.

  Charles held a hot thick-cut chip out towards her. Flora opened her mouth and closed her eyes. It was delicious. He went on feeding her chips until she opened her eyes again. 'Can I have pudding now?’

  *

  Flora had made an effort with her appearance. She had washed all her underwear the night before and used her emergency make-up kit to good effect. She hadn't bothered with the safety pin to keep her décolletage to a discreet minimum and her hair was a little wild. It had been washed (by mistake, while they were in the shower) and conditioned, courtesy of the hotel, but she hadn't had her frizz-controller and mousse and the other things she used to tame it with. But she felt her attempts at respectability weren't too despicable.

  Charles, wearing yesterday's shirt and a very satisfied expression, stood at the desk with complete lack of embarrassment.

  ‘There you are, Mr Stanza,' said the girl on reception, handing him the bill. 'We do hope you enjoyed your stay.'

  ‘Oh, we did, very much,' said Charles. He signed the credit-card slip and then opened his wallet. 'Do you have a staff box?’

  The girl indicated a discreet brass-bound opening in the wooden desk. Charles posted a couple of notes in it. 'The room service was really excellent,' he said.

  ‘Good. That's very kind.' The girl caught Flora's eye and smiled. 'I do hope you enjoy the rest of your honeymoon, Mrs Stanza.’

  Flora opened her mouth and shut it again as she realised what had happened. Because they had the same surname, the hotel had assumed they were married. There were advantages to keeping things in the family.

  When they reached the pavement she allowed her giggle to emerge. 'They really did think we were on our honeymoon, because of our names being the same!’

  Charles frowned. 'Yes.'

  ‘I expect you've got used to being engaged now. You were for such a long time.'

  ‘I'm thoroughly fed up with it, actually. I think I'd definitely prefer to be married. What do you think?'

  ‘I might quite like to get married, one day, when I've had plenty of time to decide what my dress should be like, but I'm not taking your slot at Bishopsbridge Abbey,' she said firmly.

  ‘So you probably don't want me hanging the picture of Annabelle naked above our bed?'

  ‘No,' she said patiently, 'I wouldn't like that. Although I must say I am quite curious to see it.’

  He kissed her nose. 'I might ask William to do one of you.’

  She squeaked and hit him.

  *

  Their journey back to Bishopsbridge took longer than their separate journeys to London had taken. This was because Charles flatly refused to allow them to drive their own cars home. He insisted on Flora parking the Land-Rover at the house of a friend of his who lived in Richmond.

  ‘If I got home without you, I'd be lynched by practically the whole town,' he explained as he handed her into his car. 'Now I've got you, I'm hanging on to you.’

  As they fought their way through the traffic and on to the motorway, Flora was contemplative. She was ecstatically happy but she wanted to make sure that Charles was, too. 'Were you upset when you and Annabelle broke up? You'd been together for ages. Your heart's not broken?'

  ‘What do you think?' He looked at her so lustfully his feelings on the matter were fairly clear.

  ‘It's your heart I'm talking about, not - you know.'

  ‘Annabelle and I were just a habit, really. We'd both become so accustomed to the idea that we were together that we'd stopped thinking about it. And once we thought about it, I think we both realised that we'd changed and moved on since we got engaged. I was -am - very fond of her in a way. You never saw her at her best, but—'

  ‘I made her "her best"!' Flora was indignant. 'Without me she'd still be wearing pussy-cat bows and skirts just the wrong length.'

  ‘Well, anyway, she's out of our way now.'

  ‘Charles, you don't just want to marry me for the sake of the business, do you?’

  Risking both their lives, he leant over and kissed her nose. 'When I knew how much in love I was with you, all my feelings for the company felt pretty pathetic in comparison. If you wanted us to sell up, I'd do it in a heartbeat, for you.'

  ‘Oh,' said Flora in a very small voice, trying not to cry.

  *

  There was a garland of flowers round the architrave of the house. Everyone, all the porters, were gathered in the doorway. Geoffrey had a tray o
f champagne. As they got out of the car, Flora said, 'How did they know when we were coming?'

  ‘I rang from the last service station, when we got petrol.'

  ‘But you're not supposed to have your phone on in service stations!'

  ‘I know, I'm such a rebel,' he said dryly, and then laughed.

  They walked up the steps arm in arm. 'It's like getting married,' murmured Flora before she found herself being embraced by Virginia.

  ‘Welcome back! We've missed you!'

  ‘I was only away for - oh!’

  Geoffrey gave a note and acted as conductor and then what there was of the choir, mostly sopranos, but with Geoffrey, Fred from the ironmonger's across the road, and a couple of other men and some altos obviously roped in for the occasion, broke into 'Brightly Dawns Our Wedding Day'.

  Flora laughed and cried at the same time. 'That's so lovely!'

  ‘Here,' said Edie, at her elbow. 'This person might cheer you up.' She put Imelda into her arms, who instantly started purring and putting cat hairs on Emma's black suit.

  ‘Imelda, how lovely to see you!’

  When Flora looked up again, she saw that Edie had the kittens with her as well. She was led into what was once the boardroom but was now set for a party. Louisa, grinning like mad, was protecting the plates of food.

  Having put Imelda down, Flora hugged everybody, even people she realised she'd never met before, and Geoffrey opened more champagne. Everyone congratulated Charles, who was holding his kitten. They were kissing him, patting him on the back, and generally behaving in a way that they never would have done before.

  ‘We're not actually married, you know,' said Flora, taking a glass of champagne from Geoffrey.

  ‘Just as well. The whole choir is looking forward to singing at your wedding. By the way, can you ring your mother? She's a bit worried.’

  Flora stifled a scream, found her phone and the cupboard under the stairs, and rang her. 'It's all fine! I'm so happy. Charles came and found me in London and took me to a hotel and - well, you can guess the rest.'

  ‘And are you engaged?'

  ‘Not officially, but we have discussed it.'

  ‘For one dreadful moment I thought you were going to say you were married.'

  ‘No, no. The choir want to sing at the wedding.’

  When her mother had enough details to be going on with, Flora reappeared from the cupboard to find everyone assembled for toasts.

  ‘To Flora,' said Charles, 'who's not only put the sunshine in my life but has had some jolly good ideas for the business as well.’

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘To Stanza and Stanza,' said Geoffrey, 'which I suppose could either mean Charles and Flora, or the auction house. But whatever, may it go from strength to strength.'

  ‘I'll drink to that,' said Charles.

  ‘Oh no, Imelda's stolen a sandwich,' said Flora.

  ‘No, she didn't,' said Edie. 'I gave it to her. No reason why she shouldn't join in the celebrations, is there?'

  ‘By the way, Virginia,' said Flora later, 'do we know what happened to Annabelle?'

  ‘Well, about half an hour after Charles left, Annabelle stormed about, clearing her desk, slamming cupboards and generally being very upset. But then, a couple of days later I saw her in the ironmongers, looking so different I almost didn't recognise her.'

  ‘I did give her a make-over,' murmured Flora.

  ‘But it was her whole body language that was different. She seemed all dreamy and disorganised and was carrying a wicker basket.'

  ‘Oh my God,' muttered Charles.

  ‘Well,' broke in Louisa, thrilled to be the bearer of good gossip. 'I've got more recent news!'

  ‘What?' chorused everyone.

  ‘My mother met hers at a fête. She was furious! Annabelle's mother, I mean. Apparently Annabelle's run off with an artist and is living in a gipsy caravan in the woods!'

  ‘William!' said Flora, looking aghast at Charles who had started to laugh.

  ‘Good for Annabelle,' said Charles. 'Who said she was inflexible?'

  ‘Not me, darling,' said Flora, trying to scoop up the black kitten and failing.

  Charles picked it up without difficulty and presented it to Flora. It sat on her chest, between them, looking bemused.

  ‘Will you, Flora, take this black kitten as a symbol of my undying love?'

  ‘No!' said Flora, trying not to become sentimental, 'I gave you the kitten.'

  ‘Have this instead then.' He rummaged in his pocket and produced a twist of tissue paper.

  Inside was a tiny diamond and jet brooch in the form of a cat. It had emerald eyes and a distinct look of Imelda. Flora looked at the brooch and then up at Charles.

  She nodded. She couldn't speak. He kissed her nose. 'You think he'd have got her a proper ring,' someone murmured in the background.

  ‘They'll need to choose that together,' said Geoffrey and then, a moment later, 'If this kissing's going to go on much longer, I think I'll get back to work.’

  If you enjoyed Flora's Lot, why not try Katie Fforde's irresistible new novel .. .

  ~Practically Perfect

  *

  Anna, a newly qualified interior designer, has decided it's time to put her money and her expertise where her mouth is. She's risked everything on buying a tiny but adorable cottage so she can renovate it, sell it on, and prove to her family that she can earn her own living.

  *

  Outside, the chocolate-box cottage is perfect, but inside all is chaos: with a ladder for a staircase, no downstairs flooring, candles the only form of lighting and a sleeping bag and camping mat for a bed, Anna's soon wondering whether she's bitten off more than she can chew.

  *

  Her neighbour Chloe comes to the rescue, providing tea, wine and sympathy - and a recently rescued greyhound, Caroline. But just as Anna's starting to believe she's found the perfect idyll, the good-looking yet impossible Rob Hunter arrives on the scene, putting up more obstacles than the Grand National. Can Anna get over all of life's hurdles?