‘Then why has Aunt Ada not made a single rent payment on Rose Cottage for all these years? Do you think there could have been a blip in W. Houston Property Developers’ computer system and somehow it didn’t register that Aunt Ada lived here? But then, if that was the case, then surely Aunt Ada would have told them? She was scrupulously honest and wouldn’t have been able to stand having it on her conscience if that had happened. And what if Tom finds out and they check and somehow I’m liable for payment as Ada’s next of kin? I can’t afford to pay it all back!’ she said, growing increasingly worried.
‘Let’s not panic. There has to be a reasonable explanation for this.’
Florrie looked at Isla, hoping she might know what that reasonable explanation was.
‘But I can’t think of one right at this second,’ Isla said, crushing Florrie’s hope.
‘Isla!’
‘Actually, you know what? I can.’ Isla took hold of both of Florrie’s hands. ‘I think there’s only one person who might have all the answers we need.’
‘Who?’ replied Florrie.
‘Dolores.’
Florrie shook her head. ‘We can’t say anything to Dolores.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because there’s a possibility Dolores is in cahoots with W. Houston Property Developers.’
Isla laughed. ‘For a moment there I thought you were serious.’
‘I am being serious.’ Florrie picked up the newspaper. ‘The person in this photograph coming out of Dolores’s flat is Tom Houston.’
Looking at the newspaper in disbelief, Isla asked, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Believe me, I’d know him anywhere.’
‘What’s the plan of action then?’
‘I’ve absolutely no idea.’
ChapterTwenty-Four
Florrie and Isla spent the afternoon packing up another few rooms before they decided to call it a day. They’d sorted the boxes into ones for the charity shop and ones for storage, which Drew took back to the farm when he picked up Isla. They’d spent several hours talking about the situation before they decided that they couldn’t keep second-guessing what was going on. Florrie needed answers and so tomorrow she was going to ask Dolores the questions she needed answering … even if doing so could lead to consequences that were out of Florrie’s control.
It was now a little after five o’clock and after picking some flowers from the garden Florrie tried to relax by taking a bath. Whilst the water was running into the tub, she squeezed in her favourite bubble bath and the gorgeous aroma of lavender filled the room. She placed the flowers she had just picked in jam jars scattered around the bathroom. After lighting tealight candles and grabbing a glass of lemonade, she slipped out of her clothes and into the bathtub, her shoulders sinking under the hot water. As she sipped her drink, she couldn’t shake thoughts of Tom from her mind. She couldn’t even begin to guess what his reaction might be if he discovered that no rent had been paid on this cottage for years – no, decades.
The thought had crossed Florrie’s mind that there could be a rent book that was separate from Ada’s other banking statements, or a statement letter from W. Houston Property Developers specifying the amount of rent that had been paid each year but the money would have still come out of the same bank account. After Isla had left, Florrie had searched high and low but couldn’t find anything either.
Forty minutes later, she was out of the bath and dressed but she still couldn’t calm her thoughts. The night was still young and she needed to clear her mind so she pulled on her trainers and jogged towards the track at the bottom of Love Heart Lane. Along the high street she saw a group of paparazzi camped outside the Grouse and Haggis, their lenses trained on the upstairs window of Dolores’s flat. Florrie wondered what it would be like to be under constant scrutiny for so many years. Even at Dolores’s advanced age it hadn’t let up.
The bridge between Heartcross and Glensheil was busy with tourists enjoying a walk and Florrie stopped in the middle to catch her breath while looking out over the River Heart. The water sparkled in the fading early evening sunlight, the eddies and whitecaps creating constant movement. Multi-coloured kayaks and rowing boats still littered the river, and Florrie smiled at the kids swinging on a rope out over the water, something she’d done in her teens. She took a sip from her water bottle and as she turned she saw a group of people huddled together whispering and pointing in her direction.
‘Excuse me, are you Florrie Appleton? Owner of The Vintage Flower Van?’
Florrie smiled. She was beginning to be recognised more and more but she still wasn’t used to it – or totally comfortable with it. ‘I am.’
‘Please could we have a photo? We follow you online.’
‘Of course.’ Florrie posed for photos and noticed other people looking in her direction wondering what the commotion was about. As much as she wanted to create an awareness of what was going on in her life right now, she also wanted a peaceful run and to be lost in her thoughts, so after a few more selfies were taken, she headed on her way, following the road that ran by the river.
Taking a breather, she walked towards the water and hopped onto the river taxi that took her across the river to The Little Blue Boathouse, thankful for the light breeze cooling her down. In the last few years, a lifeboat centre and a café had been built on this stretch of the river, providing jobs for the community and making the area safer for the tourists.
Stepping from the water taxi, Florrie decided to enjoy a glass of wine overlooking the river before she ambled home. As she walked along the jetty, she noticed Tom sitting at one of the bistro tables outside the boathouse, enjoying a beer. He was handsome and mesmerising with a whole sexy look going on, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to reveal his tanned and toned forearms. Tom was looking at his phone but must have sensed somebody was watching him because just then he lifted his gaze. His eyes fell on her and his whole body appeared to tense.
It wasn’t in Florrie’s nature to ignore anyone but it was clear he wouldn’t welcome her intrusion, so she decided against the drink and walked on past the café. Feeling Tom’s eyes burning into her back, she stopped and spun round. He was indeed still staring at her.
