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cup. It must be hard for Annabelle, being engaged to a man whose life was so taken up with abusiness she was part of but didn't enjoy.

‘Thathouse has been in the family a very long time,' said Charles.

‘Iknow,' Flora replied, although she hadn't known, really, but onlyguessed.

‘Butwe can't afford to be sentimental, I suppose. Annabelle is.'Is what?'

‘Unwilling to put capital into thebusiness—'

‘Shewas willing enough when she wanted to buy sharesfrom me.' Flora felt a rush of indignation. 'That was different.'

‘Why?'

‘BecauseAnnabelle would get something tangible for her money. She's helped a bit in the past but just putting money into the business generally wouldn't be thesame at all.’

Florasighed and sipped her coffee, which wasn't very nice. Itwasn't that she wanted Annabelle investing in her familybusiness - she might have to become a director orsomething. But if Annabelle could invest enough to make Stanzaand Stanza profitable without selling the house, she should be encouraged to doso.

‘Why don't you tell her about the AntiquesRoadshow idea? If she could see that having a bit morecapital, to advertise further a field, would make betterstuff come in, itwould be more interesting for her.'

‘Butif we sold the house or raised money from it, we could buy up a couple of auction houses owned by people who want to retire. Someone asked me onlythe other day if I'd be interested inbuying them out. I had to refuse, butit would be a good way of getting more business.'

‘Talkto Annabelle about it. And while you're on the subject, let's get a proper website. It's ridiculous not having one in the twenty-first century. And don'tforget the proper ad in the Yellow Pages.’

Charleslooked exhaustedly at Flora. 'We'll have a meeting soon. You, me and Annabelle.'

‘Fine.'It wasn't fine, really. Annabelle wasn't a partner and had no real right to be there. But if Charleswanted his fiancée present, she could hardly complain.

‘Changing the subject . .

‘Yes? This coffee's disgusting, isn'tit?'

‘Yes,but I wasn't going to say that. I was going to ask if I could bring an old friend to your dinner party.’

‘A male or a female friend?'

‘Male. It wasn'tmy idea, I have to say.’

‘Annabelle's?'

‘Yes. Shethought it would be nice for you to have someone to show you about the place.'

‘It'sa kind thought. And of course he can come, but I do have Henry.’

Charlesstiffened. 'Oh yes. So you do. But Jeremy would be far better than Henry.'

‘Really?'She was longing to tell her mother about this. Her mother knew that this sort of statement was destined to send Flora catapulting away fromJeremy into Henry's arms.

‘Yes.He's a good, steady chap.' He frowned, as if he wanted to say something else, but then thought better of it.

‘Yes?'

‘Nothing.'He got to his feet. 'I should be getting along. Annabelle will bewaiting.’

Florasmiled. 'Thank you for bringing the gardening tools.'

‘That'sall right. Have a pleasant Sunday, Flora.' Later, she rang Emma and told herwith satisfaction that things weregoing much better with Charles.

*

Mondaymorning found Flora awake early and full of energy, if alittle stiff after her gardening. William had not appearedthe night before so she had had a bath and gone to bed early with her book.

‘I musthave early nights more often,' she told Imelda, as shegave her a last cuddle before leaving for work. 'I feel great!’

It was onlywhen she reached town and realised there was very little traffic about, thatshe looked at her watch. 'It's only seven o'clock!' she squeakedto herself, horrified. 'I must have got up at about half pastfive! I'm such a dilly - how could I not have realised?Still' - she swooped the Land-Rover round in a generous curve -'it givesme the whole yard to park in!' Thank God she had a keyand didn't have to sit on the doorstep waiting for someone to let her in.

By the timeshe had got into the building, unset the alarm, andput the kettle on, she decided it was time to stop talking to herself and dosome work. There was no point in turning up hours early if there wasn'tanything dramatic toshow for it.

Sippingher tea, she went back to the files she was sortingout, but after she'd consigned several years' worth of garage bills to a file,she decided it was too lovely a day to spend among ancientdust. She went intothe main office and looked around.

The firstday she had arrived she'd thought the place lookeddingy. And while there was no spare money for majorrefurbishment, surely a little decorating was not out of the question? Therewas a piece of peeling paper on the ceiling that had been drivingher mad since she gothere.

Determined to be safety conscious, shecarefully cleared the computer off one ofthe desks and put a chair on it, soshe could easily reach the paper. She was glad she'd put on a pair of loose linen trousers today. She couldn't have done this if she'd been wearing alittle strappy dress and frivolous shoes.

The firstpiece came away beautifully and Flora started to thinkabout colours. A subtle yellow, to bring sunshine into theroom? A pale straw, stylish and light? Or a fresh green? Shedug her fingernail under the next strip and found that too was easy to remove.

She wasmaking good progress and tugging away merrilywhen suddenly there was a crash followed by what feltlike a minor landslip. Dust, plaster, paper and quite largechunks of stone showered down. It felt as if someone had emptied a rather lumpybag of flour over Flora's head. Coughing, she stood still until everything stopped.'Oh my God,' she said aloud. 'The paper must have been holding everything else up.'She looked around her as the dust slowlysettled, and took in the chaos. What on earth had she done? A large chunk of ceiling had come down and a substantial part ofthe wall was bare. And a thickishlayer of dust covered everything - including the computers. Oh no, thecomputers! Please let them be OK.

She glancedat her watch. Half past eight. Her heart sank.Charles could appear any time from now. She had to dosomething. She felt a rising panic, and tried to swallow it.

First, sheclambered down and ran to get a dustpan and brush,then

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