Rory's Proposal (25 page)

I gasp and then shake my head. Honestly how stupid is that? It’s not like he is standing at the front door is it? I pop a marshmallow into my mouth and wash it down with wine, feeling myself getting heady and cosily drunk, and wishing very much that he was here with me. I pull the laptop towards me and quickly type a reply. I re-read it and hit enter.

@tomrory I never thought the big cheese would follow fightwithflora #unimpressed

I nod, feeling very proud of myself. A notification bounces straight back and I click into it eagerly.

@fightwithflora you sound a bit cheesed off tonight.#toomuchgorgonzola

Despite myself I find myself smiling. I curl up on the couch and sip the wine. I bite my lip as I think about my response, before typing.

@tomrory wonder what gave you that idea #soundsguilty

I sit back and wait, popping marshmallows into my mouth as I do so.

@fightwithflora a little bird/mouse told me #ringanybells

I nibble a marshmallow and look closely at his photo remembering his warm lips on mine.

@tomrory talking to animals now are you? Must be lonely #getalife

What am I doing talking to Thomas Rory? Team Robson would never forgive me if they knew.

@fightwithflora Yep, dinner for one, how about you? The olives are good aren’t they? #whathappenedtohealthyeating

I gasp. How can he know about the olives? I look around anxiously. Have I been bugged or something? He surely isn’t psychic. Oh Jesus, is my web cam on? I look such a mess too. I quickly check. This is ridiculous. Of course it’s not on. He must surely be guessing.

@tomrory you tell me #peepingtom You should get out more #saddo

I wait in eager anticipation for his response but nothing comes back. I sip nervously at my wine and stare hopefully at the notification sign. Almost thirty seconds pass before it pops on the screen.

@fightwithflora good idea, what are you doing tomorrow night? #twoscompany

I stare at the tweet and feel myself tremble. It would be so good to see him again. I begin to type and then delete my tweet and start again, my heart heavy.

@tomrory I’m washing my hair #doesntconsortwithenemy

I wait nervously for his response. I realise I’m holding my breath. Finally it pops onto the screen.

@fightwithflora perhaps another time #olivebranch

I’m about to type a response when another notification comes up.

@fightwithflora night flo #sweetdreams

A knocking at the door makes me jump. I walk unsteadily towards it, my mind still full of Tom Rory. Adam stands on the doorstep, holding a megaphone and smelling of expensive aftershave.

‘
Awright darling? ‘Ere’s the scarf, beautiful ain’t it? The chicks love these. I can’t get them in quick enough. Sell like no tomorrow they do.’

I grasp the door tightly as my head spins. I really shou
ld eat more than beans on toast if I’m going to drink a whole bottle of Sauvignon Blanc on my own.

‘
You okay doll?’ Adam asks concerned.

I nod.

‘A little too much wine,’ I say honestly, taking the scarf and wrapping its soft silkiness around my neck.

‘
You be careful babe. You eaten anything?’

I nod.

‘Beans on toast,’ I say.

He shakes his head disapprovingly.

‘That’s not enough to feed a sparrow. ‘Ere’s the megaphone. Keep it as long as you like. Me mate won’t be needing it for a while. I’d ask you up for a drink, but looks like you’ve ‘ad enough. Maybe another night?’

I nod. I seem to be agreeing to another night with everyone. I thank him for the scarf and megaphone, and ask if he likes
Gorgonzola, thinking that maybe his flat can smell of pig farmer’s bunions instead of mine. Sadly he doesn’t.

‘
Stinks to high heaven that stuff babe.’

Tell me about it.

‘I’m off to that new club in town later. Leaving about ten, give us a bell if you wanna come along?’

At the rate I
’m going I’ll be comatose by ten. I nod gratefully and close the door. I rush back to my laptop but there is nothing more from Tom. In fact there is nothing from anyone. Then again it is Saturday night and everyone is out getting pissed. Well, I am too. I’m just doing it at home. I wonder what Tom is doing now. Is he about to go out and get pissed with his mates? He surely isn’t sitting at home like me, eating marshmallows and throwing back cheap Sauvignon Blanc is he? I go to refill my glass and realise the bottle is empty. I flop back onto the couch and re-read Tom’s messages until my eyes grow heavy. I click follow under his name and then close my eyes.

Tom

I pull off my tie
and open the kitchen door, the smell of roast chicken greeting me. Celia, in her apron is cleaning the sink. I look at my watch.

‘
It’s well past seven,’ I say. ‘Don’t you have a home to go to?’

She lifts her head to look at the clock on the wall.

‘So it is. When are you ever home this early? I’ll be off in a tick. There’s a chicken in the oven with roast potatoes. You just need to do yourself some vegetables. There’s a nice cabbage in the fridge.’

I smile.

‘Right,’ I say, knowing full well I won’t bother with the cabbage.

I grab a glass and add some ice before taking
it into the lounge and adding a little whisky. I sit wearily in the armchair by the fire and sip at my drink.

‘
You want me to light the fire?’ asks Celia, following me in. ‘It’s a bit chilly tonight.’

I shake my head.

‘I can do it. You should get on home. Frank will wonder where you are.’

‘
He’s playing darts. They’re in the final,’ she says proudly.

I lift my eyebrows.

‘Really, well that’s brilliant. Here’s to him winning,’ I say lifting my glass. My eyes land on the mantelpiece clock and I find myself wondering if Flo has had her delivery yet and what her reaction is. I smile at the thought.

Celia fiddles about in front of me and I look at her over my glass.

‘Something on your mind?’ I ask.

She whips her apron off and stands with it held aloft like a matador, her eyes challenging me.

‘I’m going to the protest,’ she says. ‘Flora Robson is a nice girl. I’ve known you since you were a lad. I’m surprised at you, harassing an innocent woman like her.’

I sigh.

‘Flora Robson, innocent,’ I say, remembering the CCTV playback. Innocent my backside, the woman is as innocent as O J Simpson. ‘As for harassment, if anyone is harassing anyone she is harassing me.’

‘
Poppycock,’ snaps Celia. ‘The girl’s got nothing, you’ve got all this. Now I never say anything. I never tell anyone I work for you. I respect your privacy. But from what I’ve been hearing, them are dirty tricks you’ve been playing …’

‘
You’ve been hearing wrong, but I’ve got no issue with you going to the protest. Now …’ I say standing up, ‘I’m going to have some of that delicious chicken of yours.’

She clicks her tongue.

‘Don’t forget the cabbage,’ she says, walking from the room. ‘I’ll see you Friday.’

I hear the front door slam and walk to the kitchen to dish up the chicken and potatoes. Innocent
? Flora? Yes, right. I take my plate into the lounge and sit at the table with my laptop in front of me. I spend thirty minutes answering emails and then pushing the plate away I click into Twitter and check the fightwithflora page. I scroll down to look for any updates. There is mention of the protest. I then see a retweet which was tweeted a few seconds before. She’s online. I look at the time. She must have received the cheese by now. I deliberate for a few seconds and then click follow. That will no doubt throw her in a spin. I smile as I pour some more whisky into my glass, take a sip and then type,

@fightwithflora
how are you tonight Flo?

I hesitate for a second and then hit enter. If I can’t reach her any other way then this is surely worth a try. I scoff again at Celia’s words, innocent. She’s got no idea. A few seconds pass before I get a notification alert. Yes, she’s online.

@tomrory I never thought the big cheese would follow fightwithflora #unimpressed

I lean back in my chair and laugh. She’s got the cheese. I pick up the laptop and move with it to the armchair. It must be stinking her little flat out something awful. The urge to tease her overwhelms me.

@fightwithflora you sound a bit cheesed off tonight #toomuchgorgonzola

A reply comes back almost immediately.

@tomrory wonder what gave you that idea #soundsguilty

Ha, she’s had the cheese alright. I sip my whisky and type a response.

@fightwithflora a little bird/mouse told me #ringanybells

There’s a fair bit of time before a response pops up onto the screen. I’ve shaken her. I smile, as I picture her trying to work out how I could possibly know these things. I take the time to pop to the fridge and remove the chocolate mousse Celia had left there yesterday. If anything would make Flo jealous it’s this. I hurry to the laptop to see her response.

@tomrory talking to animals now are you? Must be lonely #getalife

I picture her sitting at her computer, stuffing her face with my marshmallows. To think Celia called her Miss Innocent.

@fightwithflora Yep, dinner for one, how about you? Enjoying the olives? #whathappenedtohealthyeating

I can almost hear her gasp.

@tomrory You tell me #peepingtom You should get out more #saddo

I stare at the message, type a response and then instantly delete it. I take another sip of whisky and then type the same message. My finger hovers over the ‘tweet’ button. I wait a second, read it through and then hit enter

@fightwithflora good idea, what are you doing tomorrow night? #twoscompany

I sit back sipping my whisky and wait. I know the answer. But it’s surely worth a try. If I can get her to come out to dinner with me maybe, just maybe, we can make some headway. I’m beginning to think she isn’t going to answer at all. Still nothing and I’m about to close the laptop when a notification pops up.

@tomrory I’m washing my hair #doesntconsortwithenemy

I sigh. Well, it’s what I expected. Damn woman, why won’t she see reason for pity’s sake? She only has to meet me.

@fightwithflora perhaps another time #olivebranch

It’s stupid to push it as she clearly has a problem with me. I type quickly and send another tweet.

@fightwithflora night flo #sweetdreams

I wait patiently for a response but after several minutes it is clear she isn’t going to send one. That’s that then. It looks like we are clearly at war. The question is how can I fight back and maintain some kind of integrity? I close the laptop, rest my head against the back of my chair and sip the whisky. Flora’s musical laugh echoes in my head and I remember Celia’s words: I’m surprised at you, harassing an innocent woman like her. Harass her? I don’t intend to harass Flora Robson but there’s no harm in having a little fun with her.

‘
Gorgonzola and crackers love?’ Ryan asks Ruby Smith after setting the dryer over her head. He plonks a plate on the table in front of her.

‘
Nothing like a bit of Gorgon with a coffee and a
Yours
magazine,’ he smiles.

Sandy rolls her eyes.

‘Well, I suppose …’ begins Ruby.

‘
I’ve been on one of them?’ says Mrs Graham loudly.

‘
That’s unusual love,’ says Ryan washing around the basin.

‘
In Venice, they’re everywhere you see.’

‘
Is that right love?
No wonder bloody Venice smells.’

‘
I think you mean a
gondola
,’ says Sandy.

‘
Yes, that’s right,’ nods Mrs Graham.

‘
Let’s get your head in a basin shall we Barbara love? Then I can get my hands around that lovely scalp of yours sweetie.’

Barbara
Graham blushes and is led like a lamb to the slaughter towards the basins. I climb up the stepladder to blue tack our poster onto the window. I haven’t told Ryan and Sandy about my chat with Tom.
It only lasted fifteen minutes if that, so it seems pointless to mention it. I pop outside and study the poster and step back with pride. It has a carnival look, which had been Ryan’s idea, and his friend Rufus had designed it. It’s so colourful you can’t miss it.

Support Team Robson.

Protest
on Sat 31st May outside Rory’s supermarket in Ladbroke Grove.

Free Cakes and lemonade by local suppliers and a fab surprise
.

Support your local stores. Buy local.

Say NO to Rory’s and Save our Small Businesses.

‘Looks good.’

‘
You don’t think it’s a bit crooked?’ I ask, turning around and coming face to face with Grant Richards.

‘
Not in the least, looks perfect in fact.’

‘
You’ve a nerve coming back here,’ I say, turning to walk into the salon.

‘
Thomas Rory fired me.’

I stop and turn to face him.

‘Well, I imagine it’s what you deserved,’ I snap.

‘
He fired me because I wasn’t underhand enough,’ he says gently taking my arm. ‘Particularly with you,’ he finishes.

I meet his eyes.

‘I’m supposed to believe you am I?’ I ask.

He looks forlorn. I have to admit he
’s not the arrogant Grant Richards I remember from our last meeting.

‘
I came to warn you.’

The doorbell tinkles and I turn to see Ryan standing in the doorway, his flowery shirt clinging to his chest. He leans a fist on his hip and tries to appear aggressive but frankly he looks as bent as a butcher
’s hook and about as threatening as a Labrador puppy.

‘
Everything all right love?’ he asks, glaring at Grant Richards.

‘
We’ve got
people
behind us now,’ says Sandy, joining him, and emphasising the
people
so it sounds threatening. ‘You can’t intimidate us.’

No, not with
people
behind us, whoever they may be.

‘
I’m on your side,’ says Richards. ‘Thomas Rory is ruthless. He’ll go to any ends to get what he wants. He’s ambitious. He’ll step on anyone who stands in his way. Unfortunately I did and paid with my job.’

I turn to Sandy and raise my eyebrows. She
’s good at seeing through people, better than I am.

‘
So, you don’t work for Rory’s any more?’ she asks.

‘
Ooh Christ, I’ve left Barbara with her head in the basin,’ cries Ryan, rushing back into the salon. Honestly, at this rate, Thomas Rory won’t need to put me out of business. Ryan will be doing it for me.

‘
Brent Galway was given my job. I was thrown out on my ear. I don’t approve of Tom’s methods. I just wanted to apologise for the prescription cock-up …’

He stops and takes a breath.

‘You okay Flo? I should get back to my colour,’ asks Sandy.

I nod.

‘I shouldn’t have told Tom about that. I’m really sorry. I should have realised he would have used it.’

I
’m torn between believing him and telling him to sod off but it is true that I had a letter from Brent Galway isn’t it? I hesitate.

‘
Please let me take you for dinner this evening. I can explain everything. Maybe I can even help you.’

‘
Help me?’ I echo. ‘And how can you do that?’

He looks around and leans towards me conspiratorially.

‘I can maybe help with the sale of the salon,’ he says.

Oh honestly, to think I nearly fell for it. I turn on my heels and begin to walk back into the salon.

‘He’s totally driven by ambition Flora. It’s only a matter of time before he offers you a lower price for the property. It’s got subsidence, you’re aware of that aren’t you?’

Oh, here we go. He must think I was born yesterday.

‘We do not have substance,’ I say and see Ryan roll his eyes.

‘
I can get a surveyor to you and prove that you have. All three shops have it and Tom knows it. Close to completion of the Patel’s
and the video shop he’ll lower his price. They’ll be stuck they’ll have no choice …’

‘
They can go to the papers with me,’ I say, feeling my excitement building. This may be my chance to prove what a lying deceiving little prick Thomas Rory is.

‘
And say what? That Thomas Rory offered them the market price for a property with subsidence? That he also offered Mr Patel a good job and Terence Sharp money for his mother’s hospital treatment. You don’t think a newspaper story like that will just benefit Tom Rory?’

He grins.

‘You see, he has you by the balls. This is how he conducts business.’

He looks me in the eye.

‘If you don’t want to have dinner with me, I understand. Just meet me for a drink. I promise I can help you …’

I look at him suspiciously. I can
’t deny that Brent Galway’s name was on the letter which ties in with Grant losing his job, and I’ve been a bit wary about the whole subsidence business since Mr Patel said he had it. There’s no harm in a coffee is there? It’s not like I’ll be alone with Grant Richards is it? But surely all this can’t be true. Didn’t I speak to Tom only last night on Twitter? Wasn’t he warm, kind and funny just like I remembered him? A wolf in sheep’s clothing Flora, that’s what he is. But what about the kisses, and the way he held me? No, don’t think about it, don’t think about it but how can I not think about it?

‘
Four o’clock at Heroes,’ I hear myself saying.

He gives me a relieved smile.

‘You won’t regret it,’ he says as he turns the corner into Portobello Market.

‘
You’re not going to meet him?’ says Sandy, shouting above the hairdryer.

‘
Is that wise, love?’ asks Ryan.

‘
I’m not sure,’ I say honestly. ‘He could be working for Rory’s for all I know.’

‘
It’s a pity we can’t wire you,’ says Ryan wrapping Barbara’s hair in rollers with such speed that I’m surprised sparks don’t fly from them. ‘We could have listened in.’

‘
Great idea, if only we could bug you,’ shouts Sandy.

Blanche Timms turns as white as her name.

‘I’ve got bugs,’ she shouts over the dryer.

‘
Of course not Blanche, love. We were talking about bugs like in the action films.’

‘
Maybe Adam can get us a wire?’ says Ryan. ‘He seems like a man that can get anything and everything, and know how to use it, just my kind of man.’

‘
He works down the market, not for MFI,’ I say, collecting the brushes for washing.

‘
I think you mean MI5, love.’

‘
Whatever. He isn’t going to stock bugging equipment is he? Anyway, this is not a covert operation. I’m just meeting him for coffee.’

How dangerous can that be, and what could possibly go wrong?