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point, Flora.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Quitea lot of books towards the end of the catalogue are mine. I can'tauction those. It wouldn't be ethical.’

Flora gulped. 'It's quite likely Charleswill be back by then.'

‘Quitelikely.'

‘And if he wasn't, you could do them. Noone would know they were yours.'

‘I would know,' he said firmly. 'If itgot out it would damage the reputation of the firm irrevocably.'

‘Oh.' For once, Flora was lost forideas. 'So we'll just hope it won't come tothat. I wonder what they'll have to do to Charles's tooth?'

‘Icouldn't say, but, Flora . .

‘What?'

‘IfCharles isn't here, you'll have to do it.'

‘Do what?'

‘Auction the books.’

A fine filmof sweat covered Flora as she realised what Geoffrey meant. 'Oh no. I couldn'tdo that.’

‘Everyone's got to start sometime.'

‘But . . . I wouldn't get the best pricefor you! This must be your pension, afterall. You need to get the very best price for your books. So you don'twant someone who's never done it before selling your life savings.'

‘Flora, they're not my life savings, andyou're just as likely to get a good pricefor them as I am. If Charles isn't back, you've got to bite the bulletand get up there and sell. I'll give you a bit of coaching tonight.’

Floraexhaled as slowly as she could. 'But, Geoffrey, I couldn'tpossibly! Think how nervous I was just singing in a choir with twenty other people! Icouldn't stand up in front of all those people and sell things when I don'tknow what I'm doing!'

‘Yes,you could,' he said in a broken-record voice. 'I couldn't!’

He sighed. 'Tell you what, you're tiredand this idea has been sprung on you. You go and see to Imelda and the kittens,and then come back to me and Edie. Stay the night with us, and I'll give you acrash course in auctioneering. It's onlycounting in threes, fives and tens, that's not hard.'

‘I can't count in ones! How am I evergoing to be able to do that?'

‘I'lltrain you. Now go home and sort out the cats and come straight back tome.'

‘I can't go now, there's so much to dohere.' She was aware that inside there was a mountain of paperwork and tidying and sweeping to be done. No one elsewould leave for a couple of hours, at least.

‘They'llmanage without you. They did before you joined the firm, didn't they?'

‘And Charles, and Annabelle? They'reusually here, aren't they?'

‘I've told you, we'll manage. I'llexplain what's going on. Now, shoo!’

ChapterTwenty-Three

 Guilty, because she knew she should havestayed and finished the day's work with everyone else, but glad to escape, Flora climbed into the Land-Rover and setoff for the cottage. The thought of a hot bath lured her like a siren;after it, she knew she'd feel much bolder about the prospect of standing up in front of a lot of strangers. It might not happen anyway. How long could anydentist appointment be? But she wasworried about Charles. Not just the dentist, he was probably one ofthose hardy types who could tolerate histeeth being filled without vast numbers of painkilling injections, butgenerally.

Was Annabelle really the right woman forhim? Previously when she'd been in love (ifyou could call those girlish crushes love) her feelings had been very self-centred. She had wanted to go to Paris withhim, she had wanted to share bubblebaths with him, she had wanted to kick up dead leaves in autumn whilethey walked hand in hand through RichmondPark (or similar).

But thistime, while she would have sacrificed anything to be the one with him while heexperienced those pleasures, simple orotherwise, she wanted him to have them with a woman he truly loved andwho truly loved him more than she wanted thehappiness she would have gained herself.

She didn'tconsider herself to be a selfish person. She was kind toanimals (Imelda was proof of that), to people (sometimestoo kind, indeed), and she wanted to do good in the world. But never before hadshe wanted another person's happiness more than she wanted her own.

She kept on thinking like this until sheturned into the lane that led to hercottage. Then she allowed herself toadmit that if Charles wanted her, she would go to him, to hell with herpride. As long as he was honest with her, of course.

The kittens were a wonderful distractionfor a little while. They were everywhere inthe cottage now. Annabelle wouldprobably never be able to go inside there again, because of her allergy,but then, she probably didn't want to anyway. Would she let Charles have akitten? Would she cramp his style for the rest of his life? And, most likely,would marriage to her allow him to become set in his stuffiness? What he neededwas someone a bit younger, a bit morefrivolous, as committed to the business as he was, who really likedcats, to be with. He needed her, in other words. But, being a man, and sadly lacking in intuition, he might not everrealise that.

When she had fed the cats and made a cupof tea, about her tenth that day, Flora puton the television and curled up on the sofa so Imelda could have aproper cuddle. Watching Richard and Judy sitting on the sofa, bantering witheach other and their guests, was very soothing. Imelda, who now had no time forher kittens, was very grateful for anopportunity to curl up on Flora's lap, hissing at any kitten that camenear her. Flora closed her eyes. In a fewminutes she would make sure there was enough food left to keep themgoing tomorrow, sort out the litter tray, pack a bag, and go to Geoffrey andEdie's house. While she was here, in her littlecottage, she could pretend her life was both normal and happy. Once she arrived at Geoffrey's, she'dhave to concentrate on learning to be a stand-in auctioneer. And all night she would pray she wouldn't have to perform.

‘Ifonly I'd practised when I first arrived. That first sale we had wasquite little, with hardly any people, I could have coped with that! Oh, why didI meddle and make everything so busy?’

Imeldapurred consolingly. Although she'd lost a little condition after having her kittens, shewas turning into a very elegant cat.

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