Rory's Proposal (6 page)

‘Good idea,’ says Sandy, turning the shower head on full blast. I wince and discreetly make an exit. When I return a man is waiting by the reception desk and Sandy looks like she has seen a ghost. Chloe looks like a drowned rat and as for Ryan, well he is just swooning. Honestly, there is no controlling him.

‘Hello,’ I say pleasantly. ‘Can I help?’

‘Flora Robson?’ he asks smiling.

I nod.

‘Grant Richards, I represent Rory’s Supermarkets.’

He may as well have said he represented terrorism. So this is Grant Richards, sender of surveyors.

‘I’m not selling,’ I say firmly, ‘and no Nazi representative will make me change my mind.’

‘You tell him darling,’ says Ryan.

‘That’s right, we’re not selling,’ reiterates Sandy.

Hello, when did Sandy have a say? My cheeks are hot and I feel myself tremble. He smiles pleasantly at me, not in the least ruffled by my outburst. The doorbell dings and two of my regulars walk in.

‘Hello Mrs Ceylon, how are you?’ I say ignoring Grant Richards.

‘I’m fine dear. I heard you were …’

‘Ryan is all ready for you,’ I say, pulling her by the arm.

‘Ready and willing,’ laughs Ryan.

‘Oh you’re such a queen,’ says Mrs Ceylon.

‘I’m going to shag you today aren’t I darling,’ grins Ryan.

Grant Richards raises his eyebrows and I give him a sultry smile and am rewarded when I see him squirm in his seat.

‘Not too much though,’ says Mrs Ceylon. ‘Too many layers and Mr Ceylon says I resemble an old dog. Just a nice shaggy look please.’

‘Well, that could be a compliment, you never know sweetie,’ laughs Ryan, propping a hand onto his hip.

I turn to Mr Richards.

‘I really don’t see the point in you staying because there is nothing for us to discuss. If you’ll excuse me I have a client waiting,’ I say.

He reaches into his briefcase and produces a small box.

‘Before I go, I hope you will accept our little gift. We do realise that we are asking a lot of you.
Charlie Red,’
he smiles handing me the box. ‘A little bird told us that you’re a fan.’

Sandy gasps, I’m not sure if it is with pleasure or shock. I don’t believe this; they’re trying to bribe me with perfume. Who’s the little bird, that’s what I want to know? I’ll clip their bloody wings before the day is out. It has to be my mother who has no idea what I like because if she did she would stop buying me that
Charlie Red
stuff, which I absolutely hate. I’ve had everything in Charlie-bloody-Red from talcum powder to body spray. Fortunately Sandy loves it so she has been the benefactor of all my mother’s gifts. I’m about to tell him where to stick his
Charlie Red
when he lifts a hand to stop me.

‘Oh,’ he says as though it is an afterthought, ‘I almost forgot the chocolates.’

Well that wasn’t my mother. She would
have told him to bring a crate of Crunchies. Honestly it’s laughable, as though chocolates and perfume would make any difference.

‘You got to my mother,’ I say.

‘It’s not gangland New York,’ mumbles Ryan.

‘Let’s just say a little bird …’

‘A little bird my arse,’ I snap.

He smiles, and I have to admit he is attractive but
I imagine Jack the Ripper was attractive when he smiled too.

‘Chocolates, perfume, you’ll be asking me out on a date next,’ I say, trying to hide the scorn from my voice.

‘If you’re free for dinner,’ he says in a heartbeat, ‘we could
discuss things in a more relaxed environment.’

Un-bloody-believable. I can see the charm and why everyone falls for it. Well not Flora Robson.

‘I thought you weren’t coming until one o’clock, or did you think taking me by surprise may mean I’m more likely to say
yes
?’

He scratches his nose and smiles.

‘I can see you’re busy. I can sit and wait until it’s quieter.’

‘Only if you want a Sweeney Todd mate,’ says Ryan in his best macho voice.

‘And how dare you print a story in the local paper saying you have bought the salon,’ I say angrily. ‘I’m not selling and you can tell Mr Rory that and you can also tell him that he can stick Charlie Red up his arse, along with the chocolates and anything else he wants to offer me. I can’t be bought and I’m not easily intimidated.’

There is silence. All that can be heard is our breathing.
This is probably the moment he locks the door and pulls out a gun and shoves the contract under my nose, assuring me that either my signature or my brains will be on it before the end of the day. I so wish I didn’t have such a vivid imagination. I wonder if that is how they got Mr Patel. What if they threatened to deport him? His hand hovers on the back of the chair and we stare at each other. I don’t move and neither does he, like a scene from a cheesy western. I almost expect him to say something along the lines of
this town ain’t big enough for the both of us
but
he zips up the case and sighs.

‘Right, I’ll get back to the office and report to Mr Rory. Is there any offer you would like us to consider?’

I shake my head.

‘Nothing you would like me to pass on to Mr Rory, aside from sticking his gifts up his arse?’ he smiles and I almost smile with him.

‘No that’s about it. I’m not for sale.’

‘And neither is the salon,’ he says with a wink.

Dirty sod.

‘Let me know if you change your mind about dinner. Here’s my card.’

I keep my hands by my side. Well you don’t know do you. Just taking his card may make me guilty of something. Or I’ll touch it and he’ll make an excuse to give me another one. That way they’ll have my prints and who knows what they’ll do with them. Plant them at a murder scene no doubt and then, when I’m arrested they’ll be there to get me out, for a price of course. I look at Ryan and he rushes forward.

‘I’ll relieve you shall I?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ says Grant, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

‘Of the card love, don’t worry; we don’t offer extra services here but if you’re interested I could give you my details …’

‘Ryan,’ I snap. ‘Just take the card.’

Grant
quickly places it onto the reception desk.

‘We’re starting a petition,’ says Ryan. ‘Save our small businesses from Rory’s.’

We are?

‘Yes, and we’re having a protest, isn’t that right Flora?’ adds Sandy, nodding enthusiastically. ‘And we’re going to have stickers for all the signatories.’

A protest and stickers? Where did that come from? Holy shit. I’m not so sure Luke would be happy if I did that. But then again it’s not his salon is it?

‘Right, I’ll get the news to Mr Rory. Thank you for your time.’

‘And you can tell Mr Rory that we hold the prescriptions here for the elderly, save them going to the doctor’s surgery,’ says Sandy. ‘That’s more than Rory’s do.’

Ryan sucks in his breath.

‘It’s also more than we do at the moment,’ he whispers into my ear. ‘Peaked a bit too soon there didn’t she?’

‘The papers may like that story,’ continues Sandy, who is now on a roll. Ryan gives her a gentle nudge and she grimaces.

I step in front of her.

‘And don’t pull the flowers thing on me either, just in case that was your next plan. It won’t work. Mr Rory can bog off,’ I add as he closes the door.

‘Well done,’ says Ryan.

‘Shame about the Charlie Red,’ mumbles Sandy.

‘Shame about your mouth as well,’ says Ryan.

‘Still, we won the first round didn’t we?’ I say.

‘Church Lane is becoming a bit of a ball ache,’ says Grant pushing a folder across the table to Thomas Rory.

‘I thought that Florence woman was happy to sell,’ says Thomas as he flicks through the file.

‘Flora, her name is Flora,’ corrects Grant.

‘Oh right, like the margarine. What do you mean
becoming a bit of a ball ache
? Has she died or something?’

‘Not exactly,’ says Grant hesitantly.

‘What do you mean
not exactly
? Either she’s dead or she’s not.’

Thomas glances at the papers.

‘Well no, she hasn’t died exactly,’ says Grant.

Thomas rolls his eyes.

‘We are making a good offer after all. She’s smack in the middle so obviously I made it worth her while. I didn’t for one minute think she would be a problem but suddenly she’s saying she’s not selling.’ says Grant, pouring himself a coffee.

Thomas Rory lifts his hands palms up.

‘Just make her a bigger offer if that’s what she wants. Right, what’s next on the agenda? I want to …’

‘She’s starting a petition,’ says Grant.

Thomas smiles.

‘What kind of petition?’

‘Save our small businesses from Rory’s. She’s got stickers apparently.’

‘Stickers? Now I feel very afraid.’

‘She won’t sell,’ says Grant, sipping his coffee. ‘She’s out to make trouble.’

‘A petition and stickers aren’t exactly trouble.’

‘Right,’ says Grant, seeming unconvinced.

‘Everyone has a price Grant. Just find out what hers is.’

‘She isn’t going to sign.’

‘I pay you to get people to sign. Just make her a better offer. Ask her what she would be happy with and negotiate down from that. I’m sure Florence will sign eventually.’

‘Flora,’ corrects Grant.

‘Flora,’ says Thomas Rory. ‘Right, I’m off unless there is anything else?’

‘I’ve just been there. She basically told us to stick our offers where the sun doesn’t shine and to tell Mr Rory that any offer of his can go back where it came from and be shoved up his arse.’

Thomas bites back a grin. He runs a hand through his hair and then rubs at his tired eyes. He feels ancient and wonders idly if he looks it. Beth comes in to collect the coffee cups and gives him an appraising smile. Oh well, maybe he doesn’t look so bad after all. Beth moves closer to him and leans over him to fetch the cups.

‘Are you finished Mr Rory or can I get you something else?’

‘That’s fine, we’re finished, thank you Beth.’

He hands her a cup and his hand accidentally brushes hers. She blushes
and he sighs inwardly. He doesn’t have time for women. Not after Caroline. He’d rather focus on work.

‘So she’s playing hardball?’ he says.

Grant nods.

‘Yep, in a nutshell’

Thomas gives an impressed nod.

‘Have you tried softening her up with the usual, chocolates and flowers?’

‘Chocolates and perfume, and I was thinking of sending a bouquet until she said don’t pull the flowers thing with me either. She’s not budging.’

‘Right, so let’s clarify the situation here. Both shops either side we’re in the process of purchasing, is that right?’

Grant nods.

‘Florence was happy to sell but suddenly has changed her mind?’

Grant nods, his eyes focused on his coffee mug.

‘Excellent, so just this salon which stands smack in the middle is the problem and Florence …’

‘Flora,’ interrupts Grant.

‘Yes, Flora is planning to stay even with the other two shops now owned by us? Is that it?’

‘She’s planning a protest. I don’t think she will budge. I made an attempt to take her for dinner but she wasn’t having it.’

Thomas raises his eyebrows.

‘Putting that on expenses were you?’ he laughs.

‘Well …’ stammers Grant.

‘No, it’s fine if it gets the contract. If she
was
willing to sell then it’s obviously about money.’

Thomas looks thoughtful for a second.

‘Right,’ he says with finality. ‘If that’s all, I have to go. I have a meeting with the town planners and I’ll see Flora myself after that.
Get me the biggest box of chocolates you can find and I’ll see if I can make her an offer that I won’t have to stick back up my arse. Any advice before I go?’

‘She’s a bit deceptive,’ warns Grant. ‘I wouldn’t believe everything she says’.

‘I think I can handle that,’ Thomas smiles.

‘Just one thing,’ says Grant. ‘I was thinking. Some of the elderly people have a long way to travel to get their prescriptions from the doctor’s surgery. We could look into offering a home delivery service. Good publicity for us, giving someone a job on top of helping the aged, that kind of thing.

Thomas Rory pats him on the back.

‘Serving the community, that’s a great idea. I knew there was a reason I paid you an obscene salary. Look into that one. If we can announce that as soon as possible that would be great. Try and get it sorted before the Jacksons’ charity event.’

He stands up and dons his jacket. He waves to Beth before leaving the office block. Grant watches his boss climb into his Audi. Good luck with Flora Robson, he thinks. Let’s hope you have more success than I did.