kitchen door, he leaned toward Mrs. Lloyd and put his arm around her.
“I thought you looked especially lovely this afternoon, Evelyn,” he said softly. “In fact, ever since I met you, you’ve been getting more beautiful in my eyes.”
“Perhaps that’s because you bring out the best in me, Harry.” Mrs. Lloyd smiled at him. “You make me feel alive again. I feel younger when I’m with you.”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s anything to do with me at all. You’re a very special woman, Evelyn.” He gave her hand a friendly, reassuring squeeze and cleared his throat. Although she was bursting to hear whatever it was he wanted to ask her, Mrs. Lloyd waited.
“As you know, my dear, over the past few weeks we’ve become rather close and I was wondering what you would think about us becoming partners.”
“Partners?” exclaimed Mrs. Lloyd. “What do you mean exactly, by partners?”
“Well, we’re bridge partners and dancing partners and I’ve got something else in mind.”
“Oh, Harry, really?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m offering you the chance to make a lot of money. I thought you might like to consider becoming one of my investment partners.”
As a look of profound disappointment crossed her face, Mrs. Lloyd gazed down at her hands and twirled her wedding ring. Harry raised an eyebrow and nodded at her.
“Well, I say business partners, but I do hope that it might one day be more than that,” he went on. “You mean a lot to me, Evelyn, even though we haven’t known each other very long, and I think, well, at least I hope, that you feel something for me, too.”
“Oh, I do, Harry, I do!”
“Well, perhaps we could, um”-he glanced again at the kitchen door and spoke softly-“I guess it might be a little awkward if I were to stay over, what with Florence and all, much as I would want to.” His voice trailed off.
“She’ll be off to spend the weekend with her sister in Liverpool,” Evelyn said eagerly. “Oh, what are we like? Planning to spend a weekend together as if we were a couple of kids and having to wait until the grown-ups leave so we can have the house all to ourselves.” A thought seemed to cross her mind and she became serious. “If I’d known I was going to meet you, Harry, and how we would come to feel about each other, I never would have asked Florence to stay. You’re right. It does make things awkward for us, having her here.”
Harry gave her a quizzical look and lowered his voice.
“Does it have to? After all, this is your house and surely you decide who you want to have here with you.”
Mrs. Lloyd was about to reply when the kitchen door opened and Florence emerged carrying a tray full of clean glasses. She gave the couple a little nod.
“Don’t mind me. I’ve just got to put these best glasses back in the sideboard before they get broken.”
Mrs. Lloyd and Saunders remained silent as Florence lined up the glasses on the sideboard shelf. They made a soft scraping sound as she slid them into place.
“Well, give some thought to what I said, Evelyn,” Saunders said as Florence disappeared back into the kitchen.
“I will, Harry,” Mrs. Lloyd replied. “What exactly do you mean by business partner? What would I have to do?”
Harry waited for the sound of the kitchen door closing before he spoke.
“Well, I run an exclusive syndicate of carefully chosen investors. We pool our money equally so we have more to invest. We buy hedge funds on margin and derivatives when they’re down and then we sell them when the market rebounds. All in U.S. dollars, of course. Sound as a bell. So far I’ve made quite a bit of money for the investors, I can tell you. As for you and me, we’d just need to set up a joint account at the bank, we contribute equally to it, and then I take care of everything,” he said. “And then a few weeks later, I give you a nice cheque. Your original investment back, plus a tidy profit.”
Mrs. Lloyd cleared her throat.
“Well, I don’t know. Huw Bowen at the bank manages my investments for me. I don’t know very much about that kind of thing.”
She hesitated.
“And while we’re speaking of money, Harry, I hate to bring this up, but there is one thing,” she began tentatively. “That night we had dinner at the Red Dragon Hotel, you remember, the night you lost your wallet, you did say you would reimburse me and I am so sorry to mention it but…”
“Oh, my goodness!” exclaimed Harry. “Did I not… well, here, let’s sort that out right now.” He shifted forward on the sofa and withdrew a sleek, black leather wallet from his back pocket. He held it in front of him for a moment revealing a glimpse of the two intertwined Gs for Gucci, then opened the billfold section allowing Mrs. Lloyd to see at least an inch of folded bills. He withdrew several and gave them to her.
“There you are, my dear, that should cover it. And please accept my apologies for being so tardy in repaying you. Forgot all about it! Won’t happen again, I promise!”
Mrs. Lloyd settled deeper in the sofa and leaned her head on Saunders’s shoulder. He moved his arm to accommodate her, and then turned it ever so slightly so he could check his watch.
“How did you sleep?” Mrs. Lloyd asked Florence the next morning. “What time did you go to bed? I didn’t hear you come up.”
“I wanted to leave the kitchen shipshape,” Florence replied. “I can’t abide coming downstairs in the morning to a sink full of dirty dishes. No matter how late, I like to have everything tidied away before I head off to my bed.”
She held a steaming pot of freshly brewed coffee in her right hand and reached for Mrs. Lloyd’s cup with her left. At that moment, the post dropped through the letterbox and Florence set down the coffeepot. She trotted down the hall, picked up the cards and letters, and returned a few minutes later.
“Your letter opener wasn’t on your desk,” she said to Mrs. Lloyd as she handed her a few colourful envelopes. “I looked in the most likely places but didn’t see it.”
A small frown creased Mrs. Lloyd’s forehead as she picked up an envelope and tugged it open with her fingers.
“Well, it must be somewhere,” she said. “You probably put it in a drawer or something when you were dusting or tidying up. We’ll have a good look for it after breakfast.” She shrugged and turned her attention to the Christmas card in her hand. “Oh, look, it’s from Huw and Glynnis. How nice of them to send the card through the post when I saw them only yesterday.” She stood the card on end and admired the image of a plump robin sitting on a little branch lightly dusted with glitter.
She picked up the next envelope in the little stack and, after a quick glance, offered it to Florence.
“I think this is your invitation to the opening of the Llanelen Spa.”
Florence smiled as she tucked the envelope in the pocket of her blue-and-white-striped apron.
“Well, good,” said Mrs. Lloyd. “I take it you’re pleased and I expect that means you’ll be going.”
“Oh, yes,” said Florence, giving her pocket a pat. “I can’t wait.”
Mrs. Lloyd’s eyes narrowed slightly as she shifted in her chair.
“Harry will be joining us for dinner this evening. He likes chicken and has a good appetite, I’ve noticed. Do you think you could make that casserole with the dumplings? It was very good last time and I’m sure he’ll enjoy it. Oh, and as we’ll be discussing pressing business matters, it would really be best if it were just the two of us. You wouldn’t mind having your dinner in the kitchen, would you?”
“Of course not, Evelyn,” Florence replied. “I understand completely. I could even have a tray in my room, if that would suit you better.” She slid into her chair and placed her napkin on her lap.
“Evelyn?”
“Hmm.” Mrs. Lloyd looked up from her plate. “Yes, Florence, what is it?”
Florence hesitated. “Well, it’s about that Harry Saunders. You will be careful, won’t you?”
“Careful? Whatever do you mean?”
“Well, it’s just that I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all, and-”
Mrs. Lloyd interrupted her. “Oh, and I’m a big girl, Florence, and I can take care of myself. Careful! Whatever do
