Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Flynn tried to digest what Henry Patel was saying, but he’d once again been woken by the doorbell and his brain was struggling to focus.
“Come in,” he said, yawning and taking a step back. “You’re going to need to say all that again, because I just woke up and you lost me somewhere.”
“Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you, but the guy was desperate to come and look at the couch. He didn’t haggle, so I think we can get the full price from him.”
“When’s he coming?” Flynn asked.
The doorbell rang before Mr Patel could answer. “That’ll be him,” he said, reaching for Flynn’s intercom. “I can deal with everything if you need to get a coffee or put some clothes on or something.” He glanced at Flynn’s bare chest, then switched his attention to the intercom.
“I’ll shower,” Flynn said and drifted away before the stranger invaded his home.
Ten minutes later, he walked out of the bedroom while tapping out a message to Lily. He smiled awkwardly at the two bulky men walking out of his living room with his couch.
Mr Patel followed them along the hall and closed the door behind them.
“They took the coffee table too,” he said, joining Flynn in the living room and rubbing his hands together excitedly.
“I can see that,” Flynn said, surveying the room. Clumps of dust from under the couch sat in the empty space.
“I told them I’d had other interest in it and they offered me more!” After pulling a wad of cash from his pocket, Mr Patel removed a couple of notes and handed the rest to Flynn. “There’s a lot of interest in the TV so I think that will go quickly too. And I had a thought about your kitchen.”
“Speaking of which...” Flynn flicked his head in that direction. “I need coffee.”
Once he had the machine going, he checked his phone and frowned at the lack of response from Lily. He turned his attention back to Mr Patel.
“What were you going to say about the kitchen?”
“There’s a car boot sale on Sunday,” he said, lips twitching with uncertainty. “If you want, I could take any smaller items there instead of trying to sell them online. Kitchen items tend to sell well.”
“You’ve done car boot sales before?” Flynn asked.
“Yes. When my parents downsized, I helped them get rid of a lot of stuff. I enjoyed it.” He raised his palms. “Tell me if I’m overstepping.”
Flynn shook the milk carton, checking how much was left, then deposited it into his coffee. “I’m very happy for you to do the car boot sale.” He took a long sip of coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in quickly. “I’m working tonight, though, so I won’t be able to help tomorrow morning.”
“The following Sunday,” Henry said. “We can’t do it tomorrow because of Mrs Silverton’s visit.”
“I’ll be gone by next Sunday, so I definitely can’t help with it then.”
“That’s not a problem,” Henry said in a rush. “Mrs Patel wants to help. It was actually her idea. If you’ve already left, we could transfer the money for you. We thought…” He cleared his throat. “Well, it’s more work than online selling so… well, I think you know I’m not working at the moment...”
Flynn smiled lightly, imagining the conversation where his wife coached him to negotiate a better percentage.
“You’d be doing me a favour by getting rid of it,” Flynn said. “For the small stuff, you can keep whatever money you make.”
His cheeks turned red. “That’s very generous.”
“You’re doing me a favour,” Flynn said again, but his gaze was on his phone. Usually, Lily was quick to reply.
“Shall we get started already?” Mr Patel said. “I’ve got a couple of hours. You could sort through the kitchen and set aside the things you want to keep, and I can box up the rest.”
“Why not?” Flynn said. It would keep his mind from worrying about Lily.
Except two hours later, with the kitchen in utter chaos, Flynn’s panic was increasing. When Lily hadn’t replied to his message, he’d tried calling, but there’d been no answer and she still hadn’t got back to him.
While Mr Patel put the last of the glasses into a box, Flynn checked the time. “Two o’clock,” he muttered. “Where the heck are you?”
“What was that?” Mr Patel asked.
Flynn hadn’t realised he’d voiced his thoughts. “Nothing. Lily didn’t answer her phone and I’m starting to worry.”
“Maybe the sun is out on the Isles of Scilly and she’s busy serving ice creams! What a lovely job she has.”
“She’s not back on the Scillies,” Flynn said, resting against the counter. “She’s in some village near Truro trying to track down her long-lost grandmother. And it’s not like her to take so long to reply to a message.”
“Try calling her again,” Mr Patel said. “She’s a very capable young woman, though. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Yeah.” Flynn toyed with his phone. “That’s part of the problem. She’s used to looking after herself, so I don’t want her to feel stifled by me checking up on her. Or worry about me freaking out because she doesn’t reply to my messages quickly enough.”
“It’s tricky, isn’t it? A tightrope between concern and being overprotective.”
“Exactly,” Flynn said. “I’ll wait half an hour and then call again.”
“That’s a good idea.” Mr Patel closed the flaps of the box and straightened up. “I’m afraid I have to go, but if you need company you could always come with me.”
“Where to?” Flynn asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I’m on dog walking duties this week. Gigi’s been having a rough time.” He caught Flynn’s eye. “You know Gigi, along the hall?”
He nodded. Like most of his neighbours, he only really knew her by sight.
“I’ve been walking Pixie for her. Sweet little dog, and it’s good exercise for me too. Gets me out from under my wife’s feet.” He smiled broadly. “What do you think? Feel like a walk?”
“No,” Flynn said, then cast a pointed glance around the kitchen. “I should probably continue with this.”
“I’ll come back tomorrow and take anything you’ve put aside for the car boot sale. And if you give me your number, I can call you when I’ve made more arrangements for the furniture.”
Flynn put his number into Mr Patel’s phone and thanked him for his help as he walked him to the door. He’d only been gone for a few minutes when the doorbell rang again.
“Did you forget something?” Flynn asked when he found Mr Patel on the doorstep.
The little white dog skittered around his legs. “I realised I didn’t give you all the information,” he said quietly, “and you might have found it a little odd that I invited you to walk the dog with me.”
“No,” Flynn said, purely to be polite. He’d definitely thought it odd.
“What I should have said is that Pixie’s favourite walk is just up the road to the King’s Arms. The landlord is a dog lover, so Pixie gets a bowl of water and a handful of treats, and I enjoy a nice cold pint.”
“I see.” Flynn smiled.
“Don’t tell my wife,” he whispered.
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“The food is decent there as well,” he added.
Flynn’s stomach growled in response. He checked his phone again, but there was still no word from Lily. He could walk to the pub with Henry, and if he hadn’t heard from her after lunch, he’d allow himself to panic and call her incessantly.
“Walking the dog sounds like a good idea,” Flynn said, reaching for his coat. “I’m in.”