Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (26) Betcha By Golly Wow – Rosie’s Tale (Part 04)
When the balloon went up, the three girls all ran in different directions and unknown to them the group of pursuers were halted in their tracks when the appreciative crowd put themselves between them and their prey, but not being aware of that fact, as they never looked back, the girls just ran hell for leather like startled deer.
Rosie was a tall slender woman of 27 without an ounce of fat on her sleek form and when she walked she had an understated elegance about her but when she ran she lacked any degree of grace or style whatsoever.
Kelly Westwood was standing outside Bizzie Lizzies Florists having just stepped outside for a breath of fresh air when she noticed the tall slender and uncoordinated Golliwog running towards her.
The shop didn’t open on Bank Holidays and ordinarily Kelly wouldn’t have dreamt of wasting a precious Bank Holiday Monday working at the shop but there were exceptional circumstances on that occasion.
As on the following Monday Lizzie Katarski, her boss and owner of the Bizzie Lizzie chain of florists which had branches all across Downshire, was moving her office from the Abbottsford shop in Abbey View Road to the Sharpington premises.
The reason was that her husband, who had been promoted to Detective Inspector had transferred to Sharpington.
So they sold their substantial property in Abbottsford and bought a beautiful cottage in Dulcet-on Brooke right on the river so it made sense to operate out of Sharpington.
So that was the reason behind why Kelly had given up her lazy weekend and was working on a Bank Holiday.
There was quite a lot of reorganising required as the room which was to be Lizzie’s office was being used as a storeroom and had been for the six years she had worked there.
She had spent most of the weekend sorting out along with her assistant Michele Norman, but she had left in order to catch the end of the Parade.
But they had done what was needed, the office was completely cleared and ready for the decorators to start work the next day.
She just had to put the rubbish out by the bins and she could go home, if she could manage to get out of town, and if she could it would be bumper to bumper all the way to Sharpinghead, where she lived.
Kelly decided on reflection that there was no need to rush and put the kettle on which was when she stepped outside, while she was waiting for it to boil.
She was a tall statuesque thirty year old, amply proportion with wavy chestnut hair that was blowing in the afternoon breeze.
She smiled as she watched the black faced girl running towards her with her arms flailing around as if she was swatting at a swarm of invisible bee’s and she was so lacking in coordination that her forward momentum was so laboured it was as if she was running through treacle and the whole thing was accompanied by a ridiculous squeal and it was probably the combination of amusing ungainliness and the clichéd scream that caused Kelly to take pity on the poor floundering creature.
“For goodness sake get in the shop and stop making that ridiculous noise” she said with a laugh