Florrie shut the kitchen door and climbed the stairs to bed.
ChapterFour
Florrie had been up at the crack of dawn and had spent the past hour preparing The Vintage Flower Van for the day ahead to the sound of birdsong. Martha was due to arrive just before nine a.m. to take over The Vintage Flower Van for the day. As Florrie walked back towards the kitchen she was greeted by the aroma of sizzling sausages and bacon.
‘Wow! Look at this!’
Isla was standing in front of the racing green Aga, cooking up a full Scottish breakfast along with huge slices of buttery toast.
‘And I thought I’d been the busy one this morning. I could get used to this.’ Florrie smiled at Isla as she set the table and switched the kettle on. ‘You can come and stay anytime.’
‘Don’t tempt me. I know I shouldn’t say it but I quite enjoyed getting up and only having to worry about myself. That happens once in a blue moon. Felicity is taking the boys to school for me.’
‘You deserve the break! This looks amazing, but there’s enough here to feed a small army. Are you expecting guests?’ Florrie joked.
‘Please don’t think I’m nagging, but I did notice you didn’t eat much yesterday, which is understandable, so I thought you may be hungry. You do have to look after yourself.’
‘I know. For the last week my appetite has been wiped out,’ admitted Florrie. ‘But I won’t be passing on this feast. Thank you. This is just what I need.’
They sat at the table opposite each other. ‘And how did you sleep?’ asked Isla.
‘Out like a light, but I think that was thanks to the drink more than anything else. I’m quite surprised I’m not suffering with a hangover this morning.’
‘I’d put out some paracetamol just in case, but quite surprisingly I feel bright this morning too.’ Isla plated up the breakfast whilst Florrie made them both a coffee.
With two steaming hot mugs on the table Florrie was just about to sit down when the letterbox clanged. ‘Probably more condolence cards.’ After retrieving them from the mat she shuffled through them and stopped when she saw another letter from the solicitors.
‘I wonder what this can be now.’ She held the letter up to show Isla the bold type.
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Isla replied, placing their breakfasts on the table.
Florrie tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter. ‘It’s Great-Aunt Ada’s last will and testament. She signed this the week before she passed away so there shouldn’t be too many surprises.’
Florrie glanced over the legal document as Isla watched and drank her coffee.
‘Great-Aunt Ada’s left me her engagement and wedding rings, which thankfully I already knew as she’d told me recently, all her belongings in the cottage and, of course, The Vintage Flower Van.’ Florrie smiled.
‘She’s left some jewellery to Martha and a bracelet to you, too,’ Florrie continued, turning over the next page. Coming to the end she narrowed her eyes and skimmed over the document again. ‘That’s strange.’
‘What is it?’ asked Isla.
‘There’s mention of savings, small investments, The Vintage Flower Van and her personal possessions, even down to her favourite watering can, but there is no mention of the cottage, whatsoever. Why wouldn’t the cottage be in the will?’ Florrie passed the paperwork to Isla who glanced over it.
‘You’re right, I can’t see anything about Rose Cottage at all. Thatisstrange. Maybe ring the solicitor’s office or pop in on the way to Buttercup Barn?’
‘It’s Saturday today, so I’ll have to wait until Monday. I was thinking maybe there’s a page missing or something, but this looks all in order.’ Florrie took the will back from Isla and placed it on the table.
‘Eat up, and try not to worry. There will be a simple explanation.’
Florrie picked up her knife and fork but her appetite had dwindled again. She was worried and the more she thought about it, Great-Aunt Ada had never mentioned the cottage to her in conversation. Even though Florrie had rented a house on Love Heart Lane, she always thought Rose Cottage would become her home again, one day. ‘Hopefully, it’s just an oversight.’
‘It will be,’ reassured Isla.
Hearing a knock on the door, Florrie put down her knife and fork. Opening the door she found Ash, the postman, standing on the doorstep. ‘Florrie, it was a lovely service yesterday.’
‘It was.’
‘Sorry to bother you but I missed this letter a second ago when I pushed the others through the letterbox. It’s recorded delivery and I need a signature.’
