‘On the other hand, it would be agood idea to have one,' Charlesconceded, as Flora burrowed about in her bag. 'I'll see to it.'
‘That would be kind.' Flora's wordswere more heartfelt than theysounded, so she smiled, to emphasise that she meant them. She found her phone, switched it on and peered at it. 'Not much of a signal. It'llprobably be better outside.' Shemoved out of the front door, still studying her phone.
‘No good if it's raining, or you're inbed,' said Charles.
The signal was a little better out of the house butit was still hardly functional. 'Annabelle won't want you to put a phone in here. It's a lot of hassle for ashort-term thing.'
‘I thought you were determined to stay.’
Flora frowned. 'I am. I was just thinking about itfrom Annabelle's point of view.'
‘I'm sure Annabelle would like you tobe as comfortable as possible for the duration of your stay,' he said evenly.
Flora grinned. 'Gosh. I didn't know people reallyused expressionslike the "the duration of your stay" in real life.’
He raised his eyebrows. 'And I didn't know people still said "gosh".’
Flora bit her lip to moderate her smile. 'I betAnnabelle does.’
‘She doesn't come from London.’
Flora wanted to say that she didn't either, but asshe didn't reallyknow where she did come from, she decided not to.
‘I'd better go,' said Charles. 'Let me know what's missing - you'll probably find out as you goalong.’
‘Will you collect metomorrow?'
‘Why?'
‘To take me to work?'
‘Oh, don't worry about that. Youdon't have to start until Monday, and your car should be fixed by then.’
Flora opened her mouth to say, 'But you can't just abandon me here in the middle of nowhere withnothing to do,' butdidn't, in case Charles suggested she take up gardening, like Annabelle had. 'Fine. I'll amusemyself until Monday then.’
Charles frowned, and Flora realised just what a nuisance her presence was for him. His sense of cousinly duty, a powerful force, was fighting with hisextreme irritation at her presence. 'I could come and see how you're getting on, tomorrow,' he saidreluctantly. 'And give you an update on your car.'
‘It's all right. There's no need.I'll be fine.’
‘Annabellewas devastated about the car, you know.’
‘Yes,I know. I could see that she was. Even if you hadn't told me about fifteen times.'
‘But you had parked it in quite a stupid place.’
Flora sighed. 'You can't make it my fault that Annabelle ran into me, however hard you try. But I admire you fortrying. It's very loyal of you.’
He seemed to be confused. 'What do you mean?’
‘Youknow what I mean. It wasn't my fault, it was Annabelle's, but it's nice of you to stick up foryour fiancée like that.'
‘Oh.’
Flora suppressed another sigh. 'Could you pleasering Geoffrey andexplain I won't be able to come to choir tonight. I don't want to let him down.'
‘Choir? You? Do you sing?'
‘Of course. Doesn't everyone?'
‘Yes, but Geoffrey's choir is verygood. It has a reputation - oh,sorry, that must have sounded very rude.’
‘Don'tapologise. I'm quite used to it by now.’
‘I'm sure I don't know whatyou mean.'
‘I don't see why. I do speak English,most of the time.' He shook his head.'I must go. But you think you'll be all right?'
‘Yes. I'll be fine.' She opened thedoor. 'Thank you very much for driving me here.'
‘It really was the least I could do.'He regarded her for a few moments andthen said, 'Goodbye,' and stalked out of the door.
Flora watched through the window as he drove away. Emma had once declared there wasn't a man in theworld Flora couldn'tcharm if she really set her mind to it. Emma hadn't met Charles. Her mind went to the man who had run over her foot in the supermarket. Ifonly Charles was abit more like him, even a tiny bit, it would make life so much easier.
As she closed the front door and went to thekitchen to let Imeldaout, Flora felt suddenly daunted. If she and Charles, and presumably Annabelle, were goingto get on as business partners, itwould be easier if they likedher. Charles would obviously turn into granite before he did any such thing, so she'd have to tryand get Annabelle onher side. Otherwise she'd die of loneliness and despair.
If only Charles was remotely normal, she could havewon him over with a littlejudicious flirting. Flirting workedwith almost everyone and Flora did it almost as she breathed. Once, when faced with aparticularly tedious jobapplication form, she put it down as one of her hobbies. She got the job.
When Imelda was settled, Flora unearthed her radio from her overnight bag and switched it on. When her breathing and mutterings to Imelda were no longerthe only sounds, shefelt better. She would make this little house her home. And ask Charles for a television. Atelevision was aperfectly normal thing to have in a holiday cottage, after all.
She had just begun to get bored with unpacking and sorting out her things and was wondering if puttingbutter on cats' paws to stopthem roaming was really a goodidea, or just an old wives' tale which would end up getting greasy marks everywhere, when she heard acar.
It was Geoffrey, and Flora met him at the frontdoor. He was carrying something coveredwith a cloth.
‘Edie's sent a cottage pie over foryour supper, and when you've eaten it, I'm taking you to choir.'
‘This is so kind!' said Flora,opening the door wider, forgettingabout Imelda for a moment. Imelda, seeing the countryside in all its summer glory, shot out.
‘Ohno!' Flora shrieked. 'What if she doesn't come back?'
‘Shewill.' Geoffrey came into the house and set the dish down on a small table. 'Where is she going togo? She won't spendthe night outside, not if she's not used to it.' Geoffrey was very soothing. Flora foundherself believing whathe was saying, as if for Geoffrey to say something automatically made it true. 'You eat your supper, let her have a run around,
