Never Say No to a Caffarelli

Chloe gave her a speculative look. ‘So I take it I’m not the only one who’s done a little online searching on the illustrious Rafe Caffarelli?’

Poppy went back to the kitchen with her head at a haughty height. ‘I’m not the least bit interested in what that man does or who he does it with. I have much better things to do with my time.’

* * *

Just before lunch Mr Underwood, Poppy’s landlord, came in to the tearoom. He usually came in on a Friday afternoon for a cup of tea and a slice of the cake of the day. Poppy desperately hoped this Tuesday visit wasn’t a business one. She had a list of expenses to see to on the dower house. The place needed painting inside and out, and the garden needed urgent attention. There was an elm tree close to her bedroom that needed lopping as it was keeping her awake at night with its branches scratching at the window. Even a modest rise in rent at the shop would just about cripple her financially now.

‘Your usual, Mr Underwood?’ she said with a bright and hopeful smile.

‘Er, can I have a word, Poppy?’ John Underwood asked.

‘Sure.’ Poppy’s smile tightened on her face. Please don’t ask for more rent.

‘I thought I should let you know I’ve been made an offer on the building,’ John said. ‘It’s a good one, the best I’ve had, so I’m going to take it.’

She frowned. ‘But I didn’t realise you were even thinking of selling.’

‘I’ve been toying with the idea for a while. Jean wants to travel a bit more. We’ve got three young grandchildren in the States now and we want to spend a bit more time with them. I’m selling this building and another investment property I have in Shropshire.’