Save Her, Abigail Osborne [ebook reader for surface pro txt] 📗

but could not tear her eyes away from her purse. ‘They weren’t there,’ breathed Flora weakly. Her body was limp, her hands clammy.

‘What wasn’t there?’ asked Sophie.

She slumped onto the sofa. ‘This is going to sound ridiculous, but yesterday I was in a café and my purse was empty. All my cards, everything gone. It was so embarrassing. I just went to get my purse to show you it was all gone. But now…’ She stopped, staring at the purse again. ‘Now, it’s all there.’

‘That’s weird.’ Sophie joined Flora on the sofa and wrapped her arms around her. ‘What do you think happened?’

‘Thank you,’ said Flora. Looking at Sophie with tears of gratitude.

‘What for?’

‘For not asking me if I checked properly. Or for thinking I imagined it.’

Sophie chuckled. ‘I think after twenty years of being your friend, I’d know if you were a nutter by now.’

Flora’s body warmed and she snuggled closer to Sophie, resting her head on her shoulder. It was a testament to the strength of their friendship that Sophie believed Flora automatically. That’s what love was, knowing someone so completely that you always took their side. She wished she could say the same about Sam. All of last night he had refused to believe that someone had taken her cards, convinced she had just misplaced them. She didn’t want to look too closely at what that meant for their relationship. That he wouldn’t believe her automatically. But then, she reasoned, he hadn’t known her as long as Sophie had.

‘But it is really weird. You don’t think…’ said Sophie. Then she shook her head. ‘No, actually, forget it.’

‘What? Tell me!’

Sophie looked sheepishly at Flora. ‘Well… the only explanation is that someone took your cards and then put them back.’

‘Well, yeah,’ said Flora, realising Sophie was voicing what her brain had yet to process. ‘But who?’

Sophie couldn’t look at Flora in the eye. Instead she addressed her knees. ‘Flo, there are only two people it could be. Cecelia and…’

‘…Sam,’ finished Flora.

Sam and Cecelia. Cecelia or Sam. For the rest of the day, Sophie and Flora were trapped in the same cycle of debate. In the end, they had decided that Cecelia was the only candidate. It was a reach because stealing Flora’s cards and putting them back just didn’t resonate with the Cecelia they knew. It was beneath her, a menial task that they could not picture her doing. When Cecelia wanted to offend or upset Flora, she would do so in person to soak up the damage of her words or actions. Sophie had theorised that it could be part of a scheme to try and stop Flora from moving. But Cecelia was cleverer than that, surely? It would take a lot more than that to scare Flora into staying put.

Flora refused to believe that Sam had taken her cards. She would not admit that Sophie had a point that he was the one with the easiest access to them and that it would be harder for Cecelia to get to her purse than it would be for Sam.

Sophie had wondered aloud if they were working together until a scathing look from Flora caused her to change the subject. Flora desperately wanted to talk to Sam about it. But even if it wasn’t him, she had never convinced Sam that his mother did not like her and was regularly rude and disparaging towards her. How was she going to convince him of something as incredible as this?

That night, as Flora coated the vegetables in pomegranate molasses, she couldn’t resist furtive glances at Sam. He was sat at the breakfast bar, typing intently on his laptop. She wished more than anything she could peer into his mind. She thought she knew everything about him. But a tiny seed of doubt had firmly planted itself into her mind. Damn Sophie and her theories.

Sam’s arms came around her, startling her from her reverie. ‘Hey jumpy, is dinner almost ready?’ he asked, nuzzling his nose into her neck, running his hands up and down her waist. Her body, seemingly ignorant of her worries, responded to his touch. She turned from the kitchen island and surrendered to him, letting his arms surround her.

His began to kiss her deeply, she tried to return his passion, but she couldn’t relax into the kiss.

Sensing her reluctance, Sam pulled away, rubbing his nose against hers. ‘What’s wrong, sweetie? You aren’t still worrying about your cards?’

She pushed him away. ‘Of course I am. One minute my cards were gone and the next minute they were back in my purse.’

‘Flo, listen to yourself. How would that even happen? Perhaps you took the wrong purse to the coffee shop. Maybe they fell out into your bag. There will be an explanation, we just don’t know it yet.’

‘Sophie doesn’t think I’ve lost my mind. She thinks someone took my cards,’ she retorted defiantly.

Sam shook his head and sighed. ‘Why would they do that, Flo?’

‘It’s obvious. To freak me out. Scare me.’

‘But who would want to do that to you?’

‘I can think of one person who hates me enough.’

Sam’s shoulders slumped. He groaned in frustration, the noise of someone desperate to stop listening to a broken record. ‘Not this again.’

‘When are you going to wake up and see your mother for who she is? Do you know what she said to me? She said that if my parents hadn’t lived in such a rough area, they’d still be alive.’ She began pacing up and down the kitchen, circling the island. ‘Like hit-and-run accidents don’t happen in posh areas. Only the poor people are stupid enough to be killed in a car accident. The rich are too safe in their limos and chauffeured cars!’

Her body was shaking in anger. She normally held back when talking to him about his mother, knowing it was the one thing they would never agree on. But the incident with her bank cards and Cecelia’s callous comments had displaced her usual reserve. ‘Oh, and she said