Rory's Proposal (30 page)

I never thought the sight of Ryan would get me so excited. Devon and I jump up almost bumping into each other in our eagerness to speak to him. I like spending time with Devon but preferably not behind bars.

‘Well,’ he says, hand on hip, ‘I never thought I’d see you in a cell. I need to get a photo for the record. You’re one mad bitch Flora Robson, and I can see where you get it from, your mother’s even madder.’

He pulls out his i
Phone and Devon groans. Through the door I see Rosalind waving madly, Sadistic Harry perched on her hip.

‘
Thought I’d give Harry his first taste of the clink, it might just put the bugger off.

‘
How is Jethro?’ Devon asks.

Ryan waves a hand airily.

‘He’s okay. Sandy is with him now. Just a few stitches and a tetanus jab, the hospital has discharged him. I’ve got to get this pic. Do you two jail birds want to pose?’

Devon and I look at each other and then both give him the finger.

‘Classic,’ he smiles, clicking away. ‘I got a fab one of your mum in her gear. They’ll let you out in a sec. Your dad is sorting things out.’

I put my head in my hands.

‘I was hoping he wouldn’t find out.’

‘
Apparently your mum assaulted the arresting officer and then another when they arrived at the station. She’s now got a record as long as your arm, darling.’

‘
I hope I make Sadistic Harry as proud one day,’ grins Rosalind.

I groan. The officer opens the cell door.

‘You can go. Your friends are waiting. Rory’s aren’t pressing charges. Think yourself lucky this time.’

‘
What a relief,’ says Devon.

I rush out to find Mum and Adam waiting for us. Dad looks at me disapprovingly.

‘I knew this would end in tears,’ he scolds.

‘
Oh, do shut up Roger. This is the most fun I’ve had in years, I’ve never been
busted
before,’ Mum says proudly. ‘I’m to be charged with resisting arrest,’ she whispers in my ear.

‘
Fabulous,’ I say.

We all trudge outside looking the worse for wear.

‘Is the salon okay?’ I ask.

‘
Fine love, although the same can’t be said for Rory’s. That’s a right mess.’

We head to the nearest pub and file inside.

‘We’re certainly giving Sadistic Harry an education,’ laughs Ryan.

‘
Huh, like he needs one with me as his mother.’

We order shots all round and water for Rosalind and then Ryan fills us in on what happened after we were arrested.

‘All this is second hand of course darlings. Yvonne rushed back and reported everything. After you were arrested, the police went in pretty heavy-handed apparently. She got out in time. They rounded up the whole bunch of protesters who were banging on about bourgeois rich or whatever, and the store has been closed. It looks bloody awful.’

‘
What about Grant Richards?’ I ask. ‘What happened to him?’

‘
I never saw him,’ says Ryan.

‘
He was coordinating the riot,’ I say.

There is a hush and they look at me.

‘But why?’ asks Ryan.

‘
I’m not sure but I’m starting to think maybe he was fired and he was out for revenge.’

I sigh. I so want to phone Tom and tell him it wasn
’t our doing. I want to tell him that we were having a peaceful protest but I don’t imagine he will believe me now. I feel utterly exhausted and I wouldn’t care if I never saw my salon again. Terence’s words are still going round and round in my head.

‘
Terence asked why I changed my mind,’ I say voicing my thoughts.

‘
Changed your mind about what darling?’ asks Ryan.

‘
About selling the salon,’ I say. ‘But I didn’t change my mind did I?’

‘
Well, we certainly made headlines today,’ says Devon. ‘I just hope that everyone will soon realise that Rory’s are underhand.’

‘
Perhaps I should offer the local rag my photos for when the story goes to press,’ says Ryan.

‘
You’d better not,’ warns Devon.

He stands to get another round but Adam stops him.

‘I’ll get this mate.’

‘
Shame he’s straight,’ winks Ryan, watching Adam walk to the bar. I find myself watching him too but my mind is elsewhere.

‘
But what if they’re not?’ I say.

‘
Not what?’ asks Rosalind.

I
’m about to say,
what if Rory’s aren’t underhand
when my mum looks at me anxiously.

‘
Are you all right dear? You seem to be talking in riddles. You didn’t bang your head did you?’

‘
She always talks in riddles,’ says Devon, throwing back her shot.

I take my drink and throw it back too. She
’s quite right of course, Devon that is, not my mum. I do always talk in riddles and I didn’t bang my head or if I did I don’t remember doing it. I’m just being stupid. Tom Rory stole my prescription idea didn’t he? He had a raffle the same day as we did. He lied to me when he had plenty of opportunities to tell me who he was and worst of all he humiliated me. No one has ever made me look as stupid as he has. I’m tired and emotionally drained that’s all, and feeling a bit sorry for myself and everyone else come to that.

‘
Excuse me you lot. I’m not having that,’ says the landlord pulling me out of my reverie. I look up to see that Rosalind has popped out one of her veiny breasts and plonked Sadistic Harry onto it who is slurping away happily.

‘
This little bugger is entitled to his own little dram too isn’t he?’ says Rosalind.

‘
Not in here he ain’t,’ snaps the landlord. ‘You’ll put everyone off their beer.’

‘
I would have thought your ugly mush was enough to do that,’ quips Adam.

We stifle our laughter.

‘Right, out troublemakers, before I call the police.’

‘
Now, that is funny love,’ says Ryan standing up. ‘If you think we’re trouble you should see the other geezers. Come on lovelies.’

‘
We’ll get a bottle on the way back,’ says Adam.

‘
And some fish and chips. Celebrate your release from prison in style,’ adds Ryan.

I push Tom Rory and Terence from my mind, although during the evening I do find myself wondering what Terence meant.

I type
Tom Rory
into the Twitter search box and scroll through the list. There is every Tom Rory except the one I want. I reboot my laptop and try again but still no Tom Rory, at least not
my
Tom Rory. I stare bemused at the computer and then click into RorysUK and read the latest update.

@RorysUK We would like to apologise for the disruption to our Ladbroke Grove store. We will be opening again very soon.

Is that it? I try Tom Rory again but still nothing. He’s closed his account. I check my BlackBerry and view my text messages but there is nothing new. I re-read the last one from Sandy,

Hiya, just to let you know Jeth is feeling fine today. We’re going to the club tonight if you want to come along. Cheer yourself up a bit. Have a quiet Sunday. Let us know. If not see you at work tomorrow.

I make myself a coffee and sit on the basement steps and watch life in Notting Hill. It’s the first of June. The birds are singing and the sun is shining and I’ve never felt so sad in my life. I think back to how it had all started. Mark and Devon getting engaged, that was it wasn’t it? I had so badly wanted to be engaged before I reached thirty. I can’t help wondering if supposing, just supposing I hadn’t been so preoccupied with thoughts of engagements. Would I have reversed out of the gym car park a little slower? If my mind had not been so muddled would I have seen Tom’s car and not reversed into it? He would have driven off without seeing me, we wouldn’t have shared lunch, I wouldn’t have taken his email address and I most certainly would not have had a hot chocolate with him. Now here I am, thirty years old and still without an engagement ring and not even a boyfriend on the horizon. My little salon looks drab and is now stuck in the middle of two boarded up shops. I stretch my legs out and feel the warm sun on my feet. I gaze up at the sky and let the sun warm my face. I know I can’t keep the salon. What’s the point? Even with the publicity, and let’s face it, it’s not going to be good publicity, nothing will change. I feel such a fool the way everything has gone. It would have been better if I had accepted Rory’s proposal at the start and none of this would have happened. There wouldn’t have been looting and riot police, it’s just terrible. It wouldn’t surprise me if Tom staged the whole thing to make the protest turn nasty. I stop with my coffee cup to my lips. My God, what if he did? What if he staged the riot to make me look bad? No doubt everyone is sympathising with Rory’s today. Even Terence turned on me didn’t he? I remember Grant Richards face, contorted with anger and bitterness. Am I such a threat? I stand up, feeling determined. I shan’t give in, no matter what Thomas Rory does. I’m keeping my salon and that’s the end of it

Ten minutes later and I
’m at the salon pulling down the protest poster and cleaning the windows. I need to clean up the salon ready for Monday. I quickly clear out the roses before my nose begins to stream. I then clean the basins and tables and am just mopping the floor when I realise the basin is blocked again and water is starting to overflow. I curse and grab a jug to scoop out the water. I struggle with the stopcock, breaking two nails in the process. Sod it, sod it. Tim won’t come out today will he? I sigh when I realise I have wet towels in the washing machine. I throw them into the tumble dryer and switch it on and there is a spark, a bang and the red light goes off. Oh no, this can’t be happening. Not the tumble dryer too. I click the switch back and forth but nothing happens. At this rate I’ll have to close the salon tomorrow. A day’s lost income is all I need. It was bad enough being closed yesterday for the protest. I open the drawer in the reception desk where I keep the sales ledger and total up the figures. By the time I’ve paid Ryan and Sandy this month I won’t have enough to take a salary myself. I try not to think of the rent or the almost empty fridge. Thankfully I have plenty of tinned fish in the cupboards. I’ll be living on tinned pilchards and anchovies for the next month. I don’t suppose Tom Rory plans to send any more deliveries does he? I push the book back and finish mopping the floor. I then see the hairdryer Sandy had left out with a note stuck on it saying
faulty
. I close my eyes and feel tears run down my cheeks. How can I keep a salon like this? I need a new tumble dryer, a new basin and now it seems another hair dryer, and the whole place could do with a lick of paint. I can’t possibly close tomorrow. I hiccup back my tears and through blurry eyes scroll into my phone for Tim’s number. Please let him come. I suppose I’ll have to pay over the odds for a Sunday. It just never ends does it? The phone is flashing with a text message. I scroll into it. It’s from Sandy.

    
I need to see you. Are you at home? Xx

I text back that I’m at the salon and then click into my contacts for Tim’s number and listen to the ringing at the other end. I sniff, preparing myself to leave a message when he answers.

‘
Oh Tim, you’re there,’ I say, holding back my tears. Yesterday’s awful happenings are still reeling around in my head and now everything seems to be getting too much. ‘Please come, I’ll pay the extra. My basin is leaking again and now the tumble dryer has packed up and to top it all, I’ve got wet towels in the washing machine and … oh God,’ I say and burst into tears.

There is silence at the other end. Well, you can
’t blame him can you? I don’t imagine he gets many customers blubbering at the end of the phone. I wish my period would come. I must not do anything hasty. This is the worst time to make any kind of decision regarding the future of my salon.

‘
It’s Flo,’ I add stupidly.

‘
I’ll be there in ten minutes,’ he says.

‘
You will,’ I say, wiping my nose. ‘Oh, thanks …’

I hear the click as he hangs up. He must think I
’m a total wreck. I fill a glass with water, take two painkillers and wash my tear-streaked face before dragging my hair up and securing it roughly with a hairband. I then fumble around in the cutlery drawer until I find a screwdriver. I’ve no intention of stabbing myself if that’s what you’re thinking. I can think of better ways to end it than death by screwdriver, just in case you’re wondering. I unscrew the tumble dryer plug and look at it thoughtfully. I’ve got no idea what I’m looking for mind you. Everything looks fine. I fiddle with it a bit and plug it back in, while trying to keep one finger in my ear. Although I suppose the chances of it blowing up twice are pretty unlikely aren’t they. I click the switch but nothing happens. I kick it but still nothing.

‘
That doesn’t usually work in my experience,’ says a voice behind me.

I hold my breath. Oh my God. I turn and stare at Tom who stands in the doorway. He is holding a toolbox. Why is it every time I see him I look like something that should be stuck in a field to scare the birds?

‘I know I’m not Tim but I don’t somehow think he’s coming,’ he says, his expression serious, but I’m sure that’s a twinkle in his eyes.

‘
How do you know about …?’

‘
I think you got your contacts mixed up. You phoned me instead of Tim.’

Oh no. The whole time I had been blubbering down the phone it had been Tom at the other end. I blush at the memory. How stupid. I could kick myself. Note to self, when phoning plumber in tears make sure you are actually phoning the buggery plumber and not someone with a similar name.

‘I know what you did,’ I say.

He looks at me and lowers his eyes to my hand and I realise I
’m still brandishing the screwdriver.

‘
You know what I did? That sounds like a good start to a horror movie. You’re not thinking of slashing me with that are you?’ he nods at the screwdriver.

I lower it and place it on a table.

‘I’m premenstrual,’ I say in a threatening tone.

‘
Thanks for warning me. And what is it that I’ve done exactly that you know about, or think you know about?’

‘
Are you patronising me?’

‘
I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he says casually.

‘
You’ll do anything to get this salon won’t you?’

He shakes his head.

‘No.’

I grit my teeth.

‘Do you want me to look at that tumble dryer? It may just need a fuse.’

My head wobbles between a nod and a shake and I end up shrugging.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he says walking to the dryer.

He smells and looks gorgeous. There is a wonderful fresh soap fragrance emanating from him. He
’s wearing a thin black top tucked into khaki trousers. He bends to the dryer and I try not to look at his firm thighs.

‘
You sent Grant Richards here to tell me I had subsidence,’ I say accusingly.

‘
I did no such thing,’ he says replacing the fuse. ‘In fact Grant is no longer on acquisitions, so he shouldn’t have been here at all. He certainly didn’t come on my orders.’

‘
Did you send him to the protest?’ I say, fumbling with my hair in an attempt to make it look at least a bit tidy.

He plugs the dryer in and turns it on.

‘There, it was the fuse,’ he says turning to me. ‘Why would you believe Grant Richards over me?’

‘
Because you’ve lied to me in the past, that’s why.’

He pulls a face and mumbles a long
‘Mmm’.

‘
Not really. I’ve never lied to you. If I’ve committed any crime it’s not telling you who I was and I admit I should have done that. Instead you found out in the worst way. I regret that, I really do. But Flo…’

‘
You’ve played dirty …’

‘
I haven’t. I’ve been really careful how I handled this whole feud with you. Okay, I sent the flowers, knowing you had an allergy but I knew they wouldn’t kill you. Generally, I sent you nice things and gave you loyalty points. Although I’m quite sure Rory’s loyalty points were the last thing you wanted. I was trying to wind you up but you were deliberately trying to lose me business.’

I laugh. I cannot believe I
’m hearing this. I tried to lose him business. Is he forgetting he’s trying to take my salon from me and put both Ryan and Sandy out of work, not to mention me of course?

‘
You stole my prescription idea,’ I say accusingly, feeling my face getting hot.

He nods.

‘Yes, I did, but I didn’t know it was your idea. Grant suggested it. He never said he got the idea from you. If I’m guilty of anything it was misguidance in who I hired. So, at the end of the day you’re right, I stole your idea but it wasn’t intentional.’

We stand facing each other and I feel an overwhelming urge to touch him. I cross my arms. I
’m barely able to control my emotions.

‘
Why was Grant at the protest with a two-way radio?’

He lowers his eyes.

‘Grant has been arrested for inciting the riot. I think he wanted to get back at me after I took him off acquisitions. I have to admit I wasn’t aware of what Grant was doing when he was handling the Church Lane purchase.’

‘So everything is Grant Richards fault is it?’ I say hotly.

‘
Flo …’

‘
Don’t call me Flo,’ I say softly, while loving the way he does.

He steps back.

‘Have a hot chocolate with me,’ he says gently.

‘
You think a hot chocolate is the answer to everything.’

He grins.

‘It does help, especially when you’re …’

‘
When I’m what?’ I snap.

He grimaces.

‘You
are
premenstrual,’ he says.

Right, that
’s it. There’s nothing worse than a man telling you you’re premenstrual when you already sodding know it, is there?

‘
I’d like you to leave,’ I say.

What am I doing? The last thing I want is for him to leave. I
’m so muddled. What if he is telling the truth?

‘
Did you arrange for Grant Richards to come and see me? Was it you behind that shady surveyor?’

He shakes his head.

‘I don’t work that way, Flo.’

‘
I don’t know what to believe any more,’ I say, struggling to hold back tears but feeling them running down my cheeks.

‘
Please leave,’ I say quietly, wanting to be alone where I can let out my emotions and think things through.

‘
Flo, Rory’s don’t own the two shops at the side of you. Someone made us a good offer and I accepted it. I don’t want the salon, I don’t need it. I don’t want to make things worse …’

I point to the door.

‘I really can’t hear anything else you have to say. You lied to me in the past, how do I know you’re not lying now? I can only see you as a two-faced lying bastard.’

He winces. There is a short silence and then he sighs before walking to the door.