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Pushing herself to standing, she heard her phone again. She paused and looked at it. Sure enough, true to his word, Ben had messaged with an offer. She squinted at the screen. How much was he wanting to pay her to buy the house out? That wasn’t even close to the market value.
She stuffed her phone back into her pocket. She didn’t have the brain space to think about that. Not now. She needed to focus on Flora and getting Flora’s things together so she could get back to her.
* * *
‘Poppy, are you almost ready? The dogs are all fed and watered.’
Poppy looked up from the holdall she was stuffing Flora’s washbag into. She’d packed underwear, a cardigan, clothes for on the way home. What else did she need? Pyjamas.
‘One moment.’
‘Okay. Do you need a hand?’
‘No. I just need to grab some pyjamas. Won’t be a second.’ She yanked open the chest of drawers. There they were. She pulled out a floral green pyjama top and looked through the drawer searching for the bottoms to match. Huh, where were they?
As she pushed the clothes across to one side of the drawer, she noticed something poking out. Something that shouldn’t be in the clothes drawer.
She frowned. What was that?
Beneath the clothes was a pile of letters. She wondered why Flora would be keeping post in her pyjama drawer, but then Poppy shook her head. It was none of her business.
And there were the floral green pyjama bottoms.
She pulled them out with a sigh, just as a letter fluttered to the floor.
Poppy picked up the letter and shoved it back into the drawer. But as she did so, she couldn’t help the red printed words from catching her eye: ‘Payment Contract’. What was that about? Picking it back up, she frowned. The letter was from one of the same-day loan companies she’d seen on TV.
What was Flora doing with letters from a loan company? Everyone knew the interest rates on these loans were more than extortionate. And anyway, Flora wouldn’t need a loan. She didn’t buy herself anything. Even looking at the pyjamas Poppy had just packed, the fraying around the ankles showed how old they were. Flora never bought anything for herself. She always said she had everything she needed.
Sliding the rest of the clothes in the drawer to the side, Poppy picked up another letter. A final reminder from a same-day loan company this time. A different one now. One from a different loan company. She pulled another one out. And another. How many same-day loans had Flora taken out?
She glanced at the date at the top of the letter. They were recent. Very recent. All in the last few weeks. It didn’t make any sense. Flora must have borrowed thousands of pounds and over such a short period of time, too.
She laid the letters on the bed, covering the pale green stemmed yellow flowered pattern of the duvet cover. Returning back to the drawer, she looked again. That was the last of the letters. Now only a little notebook remained, tucked into the back corner of the drawer.
Poppy picked it up and flicked through the pages. Flora’s handwriting, rushed and small. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she looked at the pages staring back at her. Names of dogs, dates, and amounts, all scribbled down.
Dougal – X-ray – £350
Dougal – treatment and stay – £750
Eden – bite – £250
The list continued. Each and every treatment the dogs had received was itemised, the price next to it. Everything. It was all there.
Poppy perched on the edge of the bed.
Flora had been borrowing money to cover the vet bills. The funds in the charity account must have depleted. There hadn’t been an issue with the charity debit card; there hadn’t been any money left in the account.
That must have been why Flora hadn’t replaced the van’s battery. She just hadn’t had the money. If she’d been able to afford to, she wouldn’t be lying in the operating theatre now.
‘Poppy? Are you sure you don’t need any help?’ Ginny’s voice wafted up the stairs.
‘No, no. I’m coming down now.’ Standing back up, Poppy quickly gathered the letters together with the notebook and placed them back in the drawer. As she moved the clothes back across Flora’s hidden letters, she felt something else beneath the softness of the fabrics.
She picked up the papers. It wasn’t a letter this time, but pages printed out. She read the title: ‘How to Remortgage your Home’.
Poppy could hear Ginny walking up the stairs now, the familiar creak-creak of the old floorboards. She couldn’t let Ginny see these.
