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

to manage her guilt and live with the fact that this would reduce the number of children like Ethan who she could help.

In the office she was met with another three emails with the article attached. One parent had withdrawn their child, but most of the parents had known her long enough to realise that she was not a money-grabbing bitch like she was portrayed in the article. A few had sent her messages of support.

But the ones that came from money, for whom reputation was everything, would not brook the whiff of a scandal. She wondered how many more would contact her by the end of the day.

Flora’s head thumped onto the table. She was unable to hold herself up under the weight pressing down on her.

She jumped when a hand gently stroked her head.

Charlotte jumped as well. ‘Sorry. That’s what I do to my cat and it seems to cheer him up.’

Immediately Flora’s mood improved. It would have taken Charlotte a lot to touch her. She had never liked to be touched or touch other people ever since she was a child. Flora felt like her heart had grown a few inches and she just wanted to sweep Charlotte into a hug. But she didn’t; instead she took some deep breaths and smiled warmly at her assistant. ‘It did cheer me up. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.’

God, I just can’t catch a break, she thought. It was bad enough someone had tried to drown her in the swimming pool; now Linda was trying to ruin her reputation. Flora couldn’t let that happen. People like Charlotte depended on her. She knew what she did here was a good thing. She wasn’t going to let anyone tear it down.

26

Sophie walked through Flora’s new house in astonishment. Considering they had only been working on the house for less than a week, it was like a whole different place. It was alive with the melodic sounds of building works and workmen covered every inch of the house, plastering, painting and sanding.

Sophie went upstairs, lugging her bag with her and trying to avoid touching anything lest she be covered in the wet paint, the smell of which was assaulting her nostrils. Entering Flora’s old bedroom, she gasped. It was unrecognisable. The last time that Sophie had been in here, the pink wallpaper with white balloons on it was peeling and ripped. There was only a small bed and a bedside table that had seen better days and a wardrobe that had barely any clothes in it. Now, the room had been painted a stylish navy blue on one wall and the rest of the walls were a dazzling white. New carpet had been laid and the room felt inviting.

Sophie moved curiously over to the room that had once been Flora’s Aunt Pauline’s. She had never been in here; she would not have risked Pauline’s wrath as it was Flora who would have suffered. There was a scruffy man in white overalls painting the back wall a gorgeous shade of green. As she entered, he downed tools and left the room. ‘Coffee break,’ he mumbled.

Sophie took it in and smiled. This was going to be Flora’s room, then. Most of her clothes were green – why not her bedroom too?

Arms came around her and held her tightly. ‘What do you think of the green?’

Sophie grinned. ‘I wouldn’t have expected anything else.’ She turned and appraised Flora. ‘You look happy, feeling hungover?’

‘I felt rough this morning but nothing a day working with my kids couldn’t fix.’

‘Good. Feeling better about the whole article thing?’

‘Yeah. Especially here. It’s hard to be worried when I’m here. It’s as if the house soothes me. When I’m at Sam’s house, I feel so on edge. But I walk through this door and the outside world just melts away.’ Flora’s smile lit up the room. ‘I sound silly, I know.’

Sophie’s heart warmed as saw that the sparkle had returned to her friend’s eyes.

‘Anyway, what brings you here?’ asked Flora. ‘You said you needed a favour.’

Sophie’s smile died. All her life, she had had to be in control. She was the one that took care of herself and her mother, made sure the bills were paid and that no one had any reason to call social services. When she had met Flora, she had assumed the mantle of responsibility for her welfare too, including getting them their own place together as soon as they could afford to. She always knew what to do, always had a clear plan or ambition to follow.

Now, though, she was completely out of her depth. It pained her to admit it, but she was scared. She did not know what the future held. And she did not know how to escape from the danger she had inadvertently put herself and Flora in. Sophie wasn’t just scared, she was consumed by a stifling terror that followed her around all day, every day. She was scrabbling for a plan and that did not sit well.

‘I need to ask you a favour. But I need you to not ask me any questions and just do what I ask.’

Sophie could see that Flora was swallowing back her questions. In all their time as best friends, Sophie had never asked her for anything like this. It seemed Flora understood the gravity of the situation and merely said, ‘Anything.’

Pulling her bag off her shoulder, Sophie withdrew a large and heavy bin bag. She passed it to Flora, who opened it and gasped. ‘Sophie, what the hell are you doing with all this money?’

‘Flora, what did I say?’

‘But there must be thousands of pounds in here.’

‘Five hundred thousand pounds to be precise. Listen, can we find somewhere to hide this. No one can know about it. Please, don’t ask me why. Just hide it, Flora. It’s really, really important. Now, you need to do this quickly, I’ve got to go: I’ve got a client waiting for me.’

She walked out of the