‘That’s great, Isla. I’m going to head home now and I’ll see you later at the meeting.’
Just before she started the engine, she quickly uploaded a short video to her social media channels thanking Cathy and Ben for having her in the studio. By the time she was headed towards the barrier, her phone was pinging out of control. Slowing down as she reached the barrier, she wound down the window and handed back her lanyard and car park permit to the security guard.
‘I was watching and I’m sorry to hear your news.’ He nodded towards the crowd gathered outside the gate. ‘You’ve got a lot of people who want to support you and help keep the flower van in your family. I’ve got all my fingers crossed for you.’
Florrie thanked him sincerely and drove out through the gate to where there was a gaggle of fans, who began to chant, ‘Save The Vintage Flower Van, Save Rose Cottage!’ Everyone was taking photos of Florrie as she drove slowly past. She waved at them, then beeped the horn as she headed off up the road.
‘Let’s see what you make of that, W. Houston Property Developers,’ Florrie muttered, knowing she still had the ace that was Dolores up her sleeve.
ChapterSixteen
Feeling invincible and cheerful knowing the interview had gone well, Florrie decided to take the scenic route home. Driving along the coastline with the radio turned up she began singing along. She had the glistening sea on one side, the spectacular view of mountainous terrain on the other, and the wide blue sky with its few scattered clouds above. A welcoming warmth came through the open window.
Still singing at the top of her lungs, she navigated the next narrow twist and turn on the coastal road. As she did so, she felt the van tilt and then there was a massive thud, followed by a grinding sound. The van hurtled onto the grass verge. Braking hard, Florrie felt her seat belt tighten. She squeezed her eyes shut until the van bumped to a stop.
Shaken, she unclipped her seatbelt and opened the door. Gulping fresh air, she attempted to calm her beating heart. She got out and walked unsteadily around to the front of the van to assess the damage. A tyre had blown – and there wasn’t another car or soul in sight.
Florrie sighed, cursing the fact that she had no clue how to change a tyre. It had been on her to-do list at one point to take a short mechanics course, just in case anything like this ever happened to her, but she’d kept putting it off because what were the chances of that? Now she knew – the chances were very good indeed.
She needed to phone for help and was thinking to herself that maybe Drew or Fergus could bring the tow truck from the farm, when she suddenly heard a car engine in the distance.
Florrie spun around and hurried to the side of the road frantically waving her arms, hoping to attract the driver’s attention. As soon as the car turned the corner, her arms stopped in mid-air. Heading towards her was Tom’s Bugatti.
‘No,’ she breathed in dismay. Of all the cars on the road, of coursehishad to be the next one. Unfortunately, he’d spotted her and had begun to slow down. She dropped her arms and watched as he parked behind Rose.
As he stepped out of the car, she had to stifle a surprised – and delighted – gasp.
Tom was dressed in a kilt.
Perfectly sailing the fine line between handsome and downright sexy, his kilt was accompanied by a dirk and sporran, a three-button waistcoat, a white shirt and a bow tie.
Florrie was temporarily speechless but quickly pulled herself back into the moment, reminding herself where she had just been and why.
‘We meet again,’ he said, his eyes fixed on Rose’s tyre. ‘That’s completely blown. You can’t drive on it.’
‘I know that,’ she said, irritated.
Tom looked at her and his gaze intensified. For a second, he was silent as he took her in.
Eventually, he pointed to her hair. ‘It’s different. Your hair is … different. Have you been somewhere special?’
Florrie felt rooted to the spot. This probably wasn’t the time to tell him she’d just been on national TV attempting to ruin his company’s reputation.
‘Very special,’ she replied. ‘Look, it’s nice of you to stop but I need to get on with finding my way home.’ She looked at her mobile and began to search for Drew’s number.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Ringing for help.’
‘Am I invisible? I’ve stopped to help you.’
Florrie was in a predicament. There was no denying that she needed help – she was hungry and just wanted to get home – but the longer she stayed in Tom’s company the more likely it was that she would reveal where she’d just been and why.
Tom looked at her. ‘I know you may have been spooked by my arrival in Heartcross, and you haven’t made me feel welcome at all—’
‘And why are you surprised by that?’
‘Okay, I can sense you still have a bee in your bonnet about something and I’m sick of being spoken to in this way. Either we resolve this now or I get in my car and head to my hotel and pretend that you haven’t come back into my life.’
