by Katie Fforde
‘Flora! I thought you'd come to see me, as at least part of your errand.'
‘I'm working today, actually, Henry. I can't be too long.’
He shrugged, possibly not used to having his hospitality dismissed so summarily. 'OK, but I warn you, it's in about the same condition as the rest of the house.’
The auctioneer and valuer in her (as yet a small, undeveloped part) still noted, as they strode through the house, that there were no antiques, no rooms stuffed with old toys, paintings or other apparent rubbish that would turn out to be worth a fortune when discovered by the cognoscenti. That meant Annabelle's country-house sale was a non-starter and Flora could concentrate on the challenge Geoffrey had set her.
‘You may remember, I'm a member of a choir.'
‘I do, but I don't think you look old enough.' He smiled. 'Or, for that matter, young enough.'
‘You don't have to be old, or a choirboy, to enjoy making music,' she replied primly.
Henry shrugged and opened the door to the orangery. By now Flora was fully prepared to find it completely unusable, and then it would have to be the hall. At least she would be able to go back to Geoffrey and tell him she'd done her best.
‘Ah,' she said. There was a puddle the size of a small lake on the floor. 'Why is that water there?' she asked.
‘Possibly because there's a hole in the roof.’
Flora looked up. One of the roof lights was broken, but she could only see one damaged pane, not a whole slew of them. 'Is it fixable?'
‘Sure. If you've got enough money. Unfortunately, I haven't. You need scaffolding, you see, and it's more than just a broken pane. The woodwork is rotten so the whole frame needs replacing. It makes it all prohibitively expensive.'
‘I see.'
‘So, what was the favour?' He regarded her with the faint, not unattractive, arrogance of a man who is confident with women.
Flora pulled her shoulders back and returned his gaze. Her confidence wasn't quite equal to his, but she wasn't going to let him know that. 'Oh, didn't I say? I'm a member of a choir—'
‘You said that.'
‘And we would like to do a concert in your orangery. If you don't mind. And if it's suitable.'
‘Well, obviously it's not suitable. There's a hole in the roof and a puddle on the floor.'
‘There is that, but I expect we could mop up the water and pray for a fine night.’
He raised an unconvinced eyebrow. 'Supposing your prayers aren't answered? It was like Niagara here last night.'
‘I can imagine.'
‘Although, to be fair, considering how hard it rained and how long for, it's not too bad.’
Flora regarded the village-pond-sized pool and didn't comment.
‘I expect you're wondering what I'm doing, living here in a house that's a candidate for a television appeal. Why I haven't mentioned it.’
Flora raised her eyebrows. She had more than her fair share of human curiosity and now he had brought the subject up, she did want to know.
‘I had been thinking about going abroad,' he said, 'but I can't sell the house in this condition, or at least, for only a fraction of what it would be worth if it was properly restored. I want to earn the money, do it up, and make a killing.'
‘Thank you for sharing,' said Flora, realising that she was unaffected by the news that he might be leaving the country.
‘You are unusual. Most women go gooey at the thought of a beautiful house in need of restoration, especially if it comes attached to a . . .' He paused.
Flora raised her eyebrows, unable to resist a chuckle. 'You've shot yourself in the foot there, Henry! You can't possible say what you're thinking without appearing to be unbearably conceited.’
He laughed back at her.
‘You obviously are fairly conceited,' she continued. 'But possibly not unbearably so.’
He smiled apologetically. 'Sorry, but you can see why I don't invite women back. They're either horrified and run away, or get pound signs in their eyes and prowl.’
She chuckled. Annabelle would have prowled. 'I won't do that, I promise.'
‘I don't think I'd mind too much if you did.' They exchanged glances. Flora knew he was interested in her, and was making an effort to summon up more interest in him. He was available, after all.
‘Can I make you a cup of coffee?' he offered. 'To make up for being such a prat? Although now I think about it, it'll have to be instant which probably won't make up for anything.’
Flora had previously decided to refuse coffee as she was so busy, but she didn't want to be churlish. She'd be furious with any woman of her acquaintance who didn't maximise her opportunities.
‘I'd appreciate a cup of something. Instant coffee would be fine.’
Flora followed him into a seventies-style ginger-pine kitchen which she yearned to take an axe to. 'So why did you get divorced, Henry? It's the one fact about you that everyone knows and talks about.’
He sighed. 'Very much as you'd expect, I'm afraid.’
‘Philandering?’
He frowned. 'You could call it that, I suppose, but there was only one woman.'
‘And you are properly divorced, not just separated?’
‘Divorced. She took me for every penny.'
‘Good for her.'
‘What do you mean, "good for her"? I was a good husband.'
‘Who cheated.'
‘OK. I was a good husband who cheated. That doesn't make me all bad, you know.'
‘But not all good either. I don't suppose you have a tea bag instead, do you? Or did your wife take those, too?'
‘I managed to hide a box from her. You can have tea. I even have biscuits, of a sort.’
Flora helped herself to a seat and watched as he filled the kettle, found biscuits and was generally hospitable. She understood, now, why she had been sent. Henry was a bit touchy about his house and if someone else had gone, even a young and female member of the choir, they might not have got the right result. Indeed, thought Flora, there was no guarantee that she would be successful, but at least she was in with a chance.
‘Here's your tea. Only dried milk, I'm afraid.'
‘That's OK.’
He pulled round the bench that was on the other side of the table where Flora was sitting.
‘So, where abroad might you go?' she asked. 'If you went, I mean?'
‘The States. Or maybe Switzerland.'
‘Oh. They both sound quite exciting.'
‘Mm. Well, to be honest,' he said with a glint in his eye that left Flora in no doubt at all that he was about to be far from honest, 'I'm only planning to sell up and leave because I'm broken-hearted. I mean, I'm getting nowhere with you and—’
Flora blushed, even though she knew he was joking. 'But you're not getting nowhere! We had dinner—’
‘Bar snacks. Not the same.'
‘And it wasn't my fault you couldn't come to my dinner party.'
‘Probably just as well. Charles Stanza doesn't approve of me.'
‘Oh? What makes you say that?'
‘I met him in town the other day. He was perfectly polite and all that, but I got the impression he didn't really like me going out with his baby cousin.'
‘I'm not his baby cousin! I'm his business partner.’
Henry shrugged. 'So, you want my orangery for some sort of concert.'
‘Yes. My choir needs an appropriate venue for a concert called' - what was it Geoffrey had said? - '"A Stately Summer - Music for a Summer Evening".'
‘And you want to use the orangery?'
‘Yes. We'd be terribly tactful about it. We would hardly annoy you at all.'
‘But what about the lake in the middle of it? Anyway, why on earth would I let a whole lot of strangers use my house?' He seemed to be joking, but Flora couldn't be sure.
‘Well . . .' She took a breath. 'It's perfectly possible that among the choir members there are people who could fix the hole in the roof. That would be a good pay off, wouldn't it
?' She knew one of the basses was a partner in a firm that made fitted kitchens. It wasn't quite the same as one who repaired glass roofs, but he probably had connections.
Henry looked thoughtfully at her for a moment. 'Well, yes. It would. But what about the other stuff? I really don't like people in my house, snooping round, and there'd be cars parked all over the lawn.'
‘Your grass hasn't been a lawn for some time,' said Flora bluntly. 'And you could go away for the weekend. Then you'd come back to a manicured lawn and an orangery without a swimming pool. And you'd havethat much less to do up before selling it.'
‘And of course I may change my mind about selling. I may do it up and live in it. If I get over my broken heart.'
‘I'm sure you'll recover, but you'd have to earn lots of money to sort this place out. What do you do, again?' She knew she should have known this, but her mind just hadn't been engaged when they first exchanged all this information.
‘IT.'
‘Oh. That's all right then. You can earn lots of money.'
‘But sadly, not enough. Not right now, anyway. This house would swallow up a hundred grand and still have room for seconds.’
The thought that Burnet House might be perfect for Annabelle and Charles had flickered through Flora's mind quite early. The thought of them living there made her uncomfortable for some reason and the fact that it would be so fabulously expensive to renovate was perversely cheering. She decided to be helpful.
‘I bet there's something here, something that's valuable, that your wife didn't know about.'
‘It wasn't my wife who was the problem. It was her solicitor.'
‘Sorry. Solicitor. I bet though, if I had a look around, I could find something worth selling. I'm an auctioneer, after all.'
‘Apprentice, you said.’
Flora laughed. 'Well, OK, but I'm not a complete idiot, and if I found anything even half interesting, I could get Char— someone to come along to give you a proper valuation.'
‘Well, there's a library, but I think I'd have known if there were any first edition Dickenses in it.'
‘Or James Bond. He's valuable too.'
‘Only if the dust-jackets aren't torn and therefore in pristine condition.’
She laughed. 'We obviously both watch the same television programmes.’
He regarded her. 'Why don't you finish your tea and come and look,' he said.
She hesitated for a moment.
‘I assure you there are no etchings involved. Although I might ask you out to dinner, later. We still haven't done dinner, have we?’
She inclined her head politely.
‘Would you come?'
‘I was brought up to wait until I was asked,' she sidestepped. 'Shall we inspect the library?'
‘The solicitor did send someone to look at everything,' Henry explained as they reached a room lined with bookshelves, obviously a custom-made library. 'But he admitted he wasn't all that up on old books. He searched for anything that was obviously a first edition, but didn't find any. He put a blanket value of five hundred pounds on the lot, and then went home. I think he was tired by then.'
‘Are these books precious to you? If you sold them, would you miss them?'
‘No, not really. This is a family house, but I didn't inherit it from my parents, but from an uncle. Sounds a bit unlikely, I know, but it's true.'
‘Oh, I believe you. I'm involved in the auction business because of an uncle who died, too.’
‘You never told me that before.'
‘Didn't I?' Flora was not willing to be distracted. 'There are a lot of books here. Even if there are no very precious ones, the value in each one would mount up, don't you think?’
He shrugged. 'I don't know. You're the apprentice auctioneer.'
‘You'd have to get rid of them, anyway, if you were going to do up the house. Unless you stored them. That might be quite expensive.'
‘I certainly wouldn't want to do that. Tell you what, if you get your cousin, or whoever, to come and have a look, and if they agree there's enough here to have an auction that will make a bit of money, I'll let your choir use the orangery.'
‘I see.'
‘But I'd want to pay a lower commission. I know auction houses, they take money from the buyer, money from the seller and add in a lotting fee as well.'
‘I don't think you quite understand how many expenses are involved in arranging an auction,' Flora started.
‘No, I don't. But you want a favour. Can you offer me a deal in exchange?’
Flora thought for a moment. 'No. Not off my own bat. I don't know if there's anything here worth a damn.’
‘I want the books gone.'
‘We could arrange a house clearance, that wouldn't be difficult, but if you want one of our experts' - Henry wasn't to know there weren't loads of them kicking their heels in the office - 'to come and give a valuation, to look at everything, we'd need all the commission we're likely to earn.'
‘In which case, I'm not sure, Flora. I could get any auction house to do that for me. I want a bit more, in exchange for the favour.'
‘I didn't realise that favours were exchanged. I thought people just did them out of the kindness of their hearts.'
‘Not this people,' he said with a grin that contradicted his words. 'The kindness of my heart is all run out.'
‘Well, that's a shame. But no matter. The choir can easily have their concert in our hall in town.' She batted her eyelashes just once and then looked at her watch, but didn't actually take in what it said. 'I'd better be going. Thank you so much for your time. I'm sorry to have wasted so much of it.'
‘Hang on! Don't walk off in a huff! There's still room for negotiation.’
Flora had hoped this was the case. 'Oh?'
‘Will you come out to dinner with me?’
She enjoyed flirting with Henry. He, like her, seemed to be a natural flirt - he flirted as naturally as he breathed - and that reassured her that he didn't have any particularly serious intentions towards her. It did seem to be delightfully free of complications, though as she was pretty sure she didn't want the relationship to develop beyond a few casual evenings she rather felt she should make her feelings clear. 'Well,' she answered, 'it rather depends. Would I be doing you a favour in going to dinner with you? In which case you're more in my debt than I am in yours. Or are you doing me a favour by feeding me, when I'm obviously so near starvation? Because I could only come to dinner if I was the one doing you the favour.’
He had a very sexy laugh, she decided. 'Don't worry, Flora. I won't read anything into dinner. So shall we sort out the favours at a later date?'
‘Could do,' she agreed.
‘And in the meantime, could you ask one of your experts to give the library the once-over?'
‘I could do that, too. But I can't make any deals about commission or anything. That would be up to my cousin.'
‘Well, I could talk to him when he comes to look at the books.'
‘No,' she said hurriedly. 'It won't be him, and our book expert isn't a company director. He won't have the authority to make that sort of decision either. But when we know if there's much of value here, we can sort it out.'
‘I suppose I'll have to be satisfied with that.’
She put her head on one side. 'And with the pleasure of taking me out to dinner.'
‘That is some compensation.'
‘Also, the pleasure that the choir will repair your roof and cut your grass and very much enjoy singing in your orangery.'
‘Did I agree to let the choir come? When did that happen?'
‘When I said I'd go out with you.' She gave him her most provocative smile.
‘I know taking you to dinner will be a pleasure, but I'm still not sure about the choir.' He did genuinely look a bit worried.
‘Trust me. It will be a very positive experience. I'll get Geoffrey to come and give your library a thorough going-over.'
‘Will you come too?'
‘I might.'
>
‘I'll walk you to your car.’
Dear Henry, he was a sweetie. And quite sexy too. She wished she could develop a crush on him. It would be much more convenient.
As Flora opened the door of the Land-Rover, he said, 'I might see if they've got a table at Grantly Manor. It's very good. They've got a chef down from London going for his third Michelin star.'
‘Sounds horrifically expensive.'
‘Oh, it is, but far less than it would be in London.’
‘That would be lovely,' she said, and kissed his cheek.
*
'Well?' demanded Geoffrey, when Flora had tracked him down in the cellar of the house, sticking labels on the furniture that had come in via the roadshow. 'How did you get on?'
‘Not bad, but not perfect, I'm afraid. The orangery has got a hole in the roof, and therefore there's a small lake in it. I suggested we could mop up the water and pray for a dry night but Henry Burnet wasn't too keen on that idea. I don't think he believes in the power of prayer.'
‘I feel a bit bad sending you, Flora. It's why I thought I'd better come in and do some work.'
‘It was fine! Henry's a friend, after all.'
‘Just a friend, Flora?' asked Geoffrey, in loco parentis again.
‘Well, maybe a bit more than that. He's going to take me to Grantly Manor.'
‘Oh. Very grand.’
Flora was tired of talking about Henry. 'I did say the choir would fix the hole in the roof. One of the basses is a builder, isn't he?'
‘One of them is a cabinetmaker, if that's what you mean.’
Flora made a gesture with her hands that asked Geoffrey to be a little more helpful. 'For the choir, do you think he'd go down a few grades and fix a hole in the roof ? He must know people with scaffolding and stuff.'
‘Now you're talking big money.'
‘Well, if it's impossible, there's always the hall. But although I wasn't too keen on having to beg Henry to let us use it, I do think the orangery would be lovely to sing in.'
‘I'm sorry, my dear. I wasn't thinking. I'll ask about fixing the roof.'
‘He also wants you to go and value his library. He doesn't think there's much there, but you never know. Someone did give them a cursory glance before, when they valued everything when he got divorced, but they didn't look thoroughly.'
