Flora's Lot

by Katie Fforde

  ‘If you really want me to, of course I will.' She could hardly refuse a few fashion tips. Charles might well appreciate a less horse-like Annabelle. Those pie-crust collars must irritate any sensible man.

  ‘In that case, I'll press on. I think I might cook Charles something rather delicious for supper. Oh, and you won't forget about the dinner, will you?’

  *

  William was making a stir-fry when Flora got in. She didn't know if she was delighted to see him because he'd cooked and taken care of Imelda and was a friend, or furious with him for letting himself be seen by Annabelle.

  ‘I have had such a day!' she told him, gratefully accepting the chilled glass he handed her.

  ‘You're back late,' he said mildly, looking into his glass as if for portents of the future.

  ‘I had to go and have a drink with someone after work and miss choir.' She frowned at him. 'It's all your fault.'

  ‘My fault? Why?’

  Flora sank on to the sofa and pulled a cushion into the small of her back. Considering how many sofas must go through their hands, she thought, you would have thought they'd have provided their holiday cottage with a more comfortable one. 'Because Annabelle, who's sort of my boss, engaged to my cousin, saw you here today.'

  ‘But I didn't come into the house. I heard a car and kept out of the way.'

  ‘You were doing exercises in the garden, naked.'

  ‘T'ai chi. And I was not in the garden. I was only just out of the woodland. I really didn't know anyone could see me. I am so sorry.’

  Flora sighed. She knew she should be angry, but just didn't have the energy. 'I think you're the one who may be sorry. Annabelle wants to meet you. Just to check you're not a sinister person she should report to the police. And I warn you, she's terrifying.' Annabelle on the prowl would daunt anyone, even laid-back William.

  ‘Is she really? Why is that?'

  ‘She just is. She's very businesslike and efficient.’

  ‘Is she pretty?’

  Flora felt very tired indeed. 'Not yet.'

  ‘How do you mean?'

  ‘She wants a few tips on style and stuff. She's asked me to help her. She's got a school reunion coming up and wants to look her best.'

  ‘Well, I'm sure you're just the girl.' His gaze flicked over her, with, she noted, a certain amount of approval, but no real desire.

  It was odd, Flora realised, but she didn't fancy him, either. It was probably why they had become so relaxed with each other so quickly – sex hadn't reared its ugly head between them.

  ‘I'm sure I am. Once I've got her underwear sorted out we can get somewhere.'

  ‘Underwear's important, is it?’

  Flora nodded. 'If you've got substantial breasts, definitely. Annabelle's currently wearing what is known in the trade as sheepdogs. They round them up and point them in the right direction, but they do nothing for shape.’

  William was starting to look more interested and Flora wondered idly if perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned Annabelle's breasts. Partly to change the subject, she said, 'And now I've got to think up who you should be.'

  ‘What on earth are you talking about?'

  ‘I mean, I'm supposed to try and find out about you and invite you to dinner, so she can give you the once-over.'

  ‘Couldn't you just tell her there was no trace of anyone when you got home?’

  Flora shook her head. 'She didn't put it in so many words, but she made it pretty clear that she'd tell Charles about you if I didn't let her check you're not a psychopath.' She bit her lip for a moment. 'I suppose I could say I found a note from you, that you're a friend of a friend come to call, who obviously just took the opportunity to do a bit of t'ai chi in the buff when he was in an isolated spot.' She paused. 'I'm really surprised Annabelle didn't call the police.'

  ‘Why should she? I wasn't doing any harm.'

  ‘Annabelle would consider trespassing harm, and I would have thought she'd have considered nakedness a police matter, too.'

  ‘But she didn't.'

  ‘No, but we still have to explain your presence without them finding out you've been living here all winter. I'll say you're a friend of a friend who lived near and came to look me up. That suit you?'

  ‘I have been living on my own for a while, but do you think someone looking up the friend of a friend would be likely to take off all their clothes and do a spot of t'ai chi while they're waiting?'

  ‘Well . . . yes, if that's your bag. After all, there can't be many opportunities for doing stuff like that.' William nodded, conceding this point.

  ‘Let's eat, William. I'm starving.’

  *

  When supper was disposed of, the kittens had been marvelled over, and William had decided to go to his shack in the forest, Flora found a spot in the garden that had reasonable reception and called Emma.

  ‘Is this a good moment?' she pleaded, when Emma picked up the phone.

  ‘Yes. Dave's out. I'm just watching a movie and it's not very good. It's a perfect time to ring.'

  ‘Thank goodness. I need advice, Em!'

  ‘Really? Well, on the whole green is considered the best colour for wellies but you could get away with blue at a pinch.'

  ‘What are you talking about? Now listen, Annabelle, who's engaged to my cousin Charles, and wants to buy me out of the business, well, not completely, but abit . . .'

  ‘Go on.' Emma was obviously on the move. 'I'm just going into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.'

  ‘Anyway, she saw this man William, who's been living here in the holiday cottage all winter, and is still around.’

  ‘Nice?'

  ‘Very.'

  ‘Fit?'

  ‘Well, I suppose so but definitely not my type. Although Annabelle tells me that upside down and naked he is - what did she say? - aesthetically beautiful.'

  ‘He sounds extraordinary. If you want him, I'd take him.' Emma sighed a little wistfully.

  ‘I don't want him. I want you to listen to me. You see the thing is, Emma, Annabelle has more or less ordered me to have a dinner party so she can meet him.'

  ‘And?'

  ‘Well, should I introduce Annabelle to William?’

  Emma thought for a moment. 'Sorry, Flora, I don't see the problem. I really don't see why you shouldn't have a little dinner party and introduce this Annabelle to the naked man.’

  Flora sighed. 'That sounds so easy in theory, but you don't know Charles! Having him, Annabelle and William round for dinner would be torture. No one would have anything in common, it would be ghastly!'

  ‘Well, invite some other people then! That way you won't notice Charles so much.’

  Flora felt that however many people she asked she was bound to notice Charles. He took up quite a lot of space. But it would certainly dilute him. 'That is a good idea. I could invite Henry.'

  ‘Who's Henry?'

  ‘Oh, someone I met in the supermarket when I first arrived. We haven't actually been out yet, but he's very nice.'

  ‘You met him in the supermarket? You're so jammy! The only people I meet in the supermarket are other wild-eyed singletons looking for low-fat Chardonnay. We bond over the fromage frais.'

  ‘I may not be jammy, he may not turn out to be any good at all, but it's nice to have someone to think about. The trouble is, I haven't got his number. But with luck, I'll run into him soon. Annabelle didn't give me a date for this dinner party, after all.'

  ‘I should check him over for you,' said Emma. 'Make sure he's not another Justin.'

  ‘You can't tell just by looking. And do you know, Justin was at school with Charles! But I've just had a brilliant idea! If you came down for a weekend, you could come to the dinner party. That would make it much more fun.’

  Emma laughed. 'A dinner party with your stuffy cousin and his ghastly fiancée does sound tempting, but on the other hand, we could wait for you to come back to London and have a really nice time.'

  ‘I'm not doing that! I've only been here five minut
es and I'm beginning to love it. The whole auction house thing is so exciting, even though I spent all day today in a filthy house looking at furniture. It's terribly hard work but so fascinating.’

  Emma spoke in tones she normally used when confronted by a psychopath on the tube. 'Well, honey, if that's the way you feel about it, I don't think I can help you. You need a professional.’

  Flora ignored this slight on her sanity. 'I've just had a thought.'

  ‘Go on.'

  ‘If you came down for the weekend, I could say that William is a friend of yours.'

  ‘I don't think I'd have a friend who took off their clothes in other people's gardens.'

  ‘Well, no, but you wouldn't necessarily have known about his passion for naked yoga, or whatever. I think that's a very good idea. Now, when can you come?’

  Emma sighed. 'I'd quite like to come down. I don't suppose Dave would be able to get away.'

  ‘That's perfect! I mean, it's a shame, but it's perfect from my point of view. You and William could be a couple.'

  ‘I don't quite understand what your thinking is on this one, Flo.'

  ‘I don't either, but come down, one weekend sometime soon, and we can make a plan when you get here.'

  ‘I'll see what I can do. It's not easy at the moment.’

  ‘Oh darling!'

  ‘But don't worry, I'll try to sort something out.’

  *

  'Annabelle tells me she saw a man at your house yesterday.’

  The wretch! Annabelle had definitely said she wouldn't tell Charles if Flora agreed to have a dinner party! Determined to keep her cool for as long as possible, she said, 'Hi, Charles, I'm fine. Yes, it is a lovely day, but it looks like rain later. Though we do need it.' Bloody Annabelle! And bloody Charles! He might have said hello before he confronted her about William.

  ‘Who is he?'

  ‘Well, when Annabelle first told me about him, I hadn't a clue, but when I got back I found a note. He's a friend of a friend in London. He lives quite near here. Not sure where,' she went on quickly, before he could ask her awkward questions. 'The friend thought I might be lonely and asked him to look me up.’

  This sounded feasible as long as Annabelle hadn't mentioned the naked t'ai chi.

  ‘Oh. Right. So you didn't meet him yourself?’

  To lie or not to lie? 'No. He might be calling again tonight. He's going to give me a ring on my mobile. Talking of which, any chance of that land line? The reception's not good there.’

  He frowned. 'Sorry, yes. I'll get on to it. And would you mind making a start on typing up that valuation we did yesterday? Louisa is off and I want to get it done as soon as possible. I realise it's not what you do, but I would really appreciate it. Louisa can do it properly next week, but it would save her some time.'

  ‘No probs, Charles,' said Flora, keen to be helpful. 'I'll get started just as soon as I've hung up my jacket. Is the computer on? There is a computer, isn't there? Not just an ancient Underwood typewriter that didn't sell in an auction?’

  Charles almost smiled. 'No, there is a computer. Just do as much as you can. Annabelle said something about you wanting to go shopping.’

  Trust Annabelle to make her out to be the one in need of retail therapy. 'I don't want to sound patronising, but to me shopping means London, Paris, New York, Milan if you're in Italy, not some jumped-up market town. It's Annabelle who wants to go, for her school reunion, but if I've got work to do, she can go on her own. Or with her mother.'

  ‘Keep your hair on. You're perfectly entitled to take time off whenever you like, you don't work for us.'

  ‘Oh yes I do, Charles,' she replied, somewhat disconcerted that he seemed to have forgotten. 'Now point me in the direction of the computer and I'll get on.’

  By the time Annabelle arrived to take her shopping at about two o'clock, Flora had not only typed the valuation, but she'd taken advantage of being entirely alone to have a good prowl round the building.

  Annabelle came in looking prettier already, partly because her hair was loose and clean. It still needed a good cut, though. 'Charles told me I'd find you typing. I expect you hunt and peck?'

  ‘I don't hunt, Annabelle. I think it's cruel.'

  ‘I didn't mean that sort of hunting. I meant typing, but never mind, you can leave it now. Louisa will do it later. There's no great hurry, after all.’

  Flora picked up her jacket, not disclosing that she was in fact a very fast touch typist. Her mother had once told her, 'Learn to type, it's useful, but don't tell anyone or you may not get to do anything else.'

  ‘Where are we going shopping, then? Bristol?’

  Annabelle looked shocked. 'Do we need to go so far?’

  ‘I think we do. Now, shall we lock up?'

  ‘I'll do it.'

  ‘And, Annabelle,' said Flora as she watched her set the burglar alarm and memorised the numbers, just in case, 'you said you wouldn't tell Charles about . . . the man, and you did.'

  ‘I know,' said Annabelle breezily, making the building ring with the sound of the alarm. 'I changed my mind. He was surprisingly cool about it,' she went on, as they came out into the street, all safe and quiet behind them. 'I think he's coming round to the idea of you.’

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Yes, you do have to be fitted. It's the most important thing. Get measured properly. My mother taught me that.' This last accompanied a shove in the back which finally got Annabelle into the changing room.

  The kindly sales assistant added, 'I'll check your size and then go and find some bras I think might suit you.'

  ‘And I'll be back when you're in one of them,' said Flora. 'Now I'm going to buy knickers.’

  In fact, having forced Annabelle to be measured, Flora picked up a few bras that were in the sale and didn't even think of trying them on. Her mother had indeed given her that sound advice and Flora believed it wholeheartedly. She just didn't think her size 34 B needed quite as much attention as Annabelle's double D cup.

  She was queuing up to pay for them when she became aware of a man behind her. It was Henry. She laughed.

  ‘I know, I know, what's a man doing in the lingerie department?' he said.

  ‘Obviously shopping.' Flora indicated the pile of cotton in his hand. 'For you?'

  ‘No! My sister. It's her birthday tomorrow. I was buying a card the other day but I didn't find anything in the abbey shop that she would want that I could post.'

  ‘So, what have you bought her?'

  ‘A nightie — it's what she said she wanted. Do you think she'll like it?' He held up a rather mumsy white nightie which would certainly leave everything to the imagination.

  ‘It's . . . er . . . lovely. I'm sure she'll be thrilled.’

  ‘Oh good. I'm just not sure of her size.'

  ‘Oh my goodness! Don't tell me you're buying her clothes and you don't know her size!'

  ‘Is that very bad?'

  ‘It's a disaster! Have you any idea at all?'

  ‘Well.' He regarded Flora for rather a long time. 'She's probably about the same as you are.’

  Flora took hold of the offending item and checked the size. 'This is a sixteen. If she's my size it'll be much too big.'

  ‘I'll go and get a couple of sizes down then,' he said meekly.

  ‘Sorry, Henry, but just think how horrible your sister would feel if she thought you thought she looked two sizes bigger then she is.’

  He shrugged. 'It seemed sort of roomy, but I thought it'd be OK.'

  ‘No. OK is not good enough. Off you go.'

  ‘I will if you give me your telephone number,' he said with the twinkle she remembered from the abbey card shop.

  Flora smiled and let the lady standing behind Henry, who'd been enjoying their exchanges, go in front of her. 'Only if you give me yours.'

  ‘It's a deal.’

  *

  'I still don't see the point of spending so much money on something that won't ever be seen!' said Annabelle a little later.


  ‘Charles will see them, and the rest of the world will see the effect,' insisted Flora. 'Feel good on the inside and you'll look good on the outside.'

  ‘Is that something else your mother told you?'

  ‘No, but it's just the sort of thing she would say. Look, I've bought you the matching knickers for the black and the red bra.'

  ‘Oh! That's very kind. They were a horrendous price.'

  ‘I know, but it would be a shame to spoil the shop for a ha'p'orth of knickers. Now, let's make a move on to Ladies' Fashion. It's much better to go to the little shops, really, but I don't know where they are.’

  Forcing Annabelle, even in one of her new bras, into a V-necked top was almost beyond Flora's powers of persuasion. She had to get a sales assistant on her side and between them they eventually convinced Annabelle that showing a bit of chest was not slutty, but was, in fact, very attractive.

  ‘Oh, Annabelle! You look lovely! You've got great boobs now we can see you haven't got four of them. Let's find a skirt to go with that top. Does it come in other colours?'

  ‘Yes. White, black and scarlet.'

  ‘Let's see the scarlet. It may not be your colour, but definitely the black and white.' Flora frowned. 'We should probably get your colours done, only you may not want to bother.'

  ‘My colours done? What are you talking about?' Annabelle, who'd begun to like the image of herself with a cleavage, now regarded Flora with alarm.

  ‘It's great fun,' said the assistant. 'You find out which colours suit you and which don't.’

  Annabelle became thoughtful. 'I mostly stick with navy blue.'

  ‘You may want to be a bit more adventurous than that,' suggested the assistant tactfully. 'Let's find you some skirts. I've got a lovely fuchsia linen.'

  ‘I don't wear fuchsia.'

  ‘Why not?'

  ‘I just don't.’

  Flora hissed with irritation. 'Get back in that changing room,' she ordered, 'and do as you're told for once.’

  Then she wondered if the power had gone to her head.

  *

  Later, any regrets about bullying Annabelle disappeared. Sartorially, Annabelle was vastly improved.

  ‘Charles is going to be absolutely thrilled,' Flora said, wondering if she was mad for going to so much trouble to make a woman she barely liked look so gorgeous. 'Now I want to go through your wardrobe and get rid of all the things you shouldn't wear.'