Helen had cleared the counter again, but this time she left the shop open. Customers came and went while we worked at a little table behind a half-height screen.
“I’m not losing another afternoon’s trade to proving I didn’t sell something,” she said.
Priya agreed. She had arranged what she needed to check in sections so Helen could stop whenever the bell rang.
The first receipt claimed flowers costing one hundred and eighty pounds. The second claimed two hundred and forty. Both had been used to support reimbursements to Celia, who had described paying the shop on the fund’s behalf.
“That’s the route recorded in the fund’s payments,” Priya said. “Not a transfer from the fund directly to your business.”
Helen stared at the copies.
“So when I asked about the orders, she was asking to be paid back for them?”
“The reimbursements had already been made.”
The bell rang. Helen got up to help a man choose something for his sister. He wasn’t sure whether she liked lilies. Helen suggested flowers that did not require certainty about lilies and wrapped them while he described a train delay.
I watched her work. Her hands were quick and exact. This was what the false papers claimed to represent: time, stock, decisions, an actual exchange between people.
When she returned, Priya asked about payment methods. Helen checked the relevant business records. There was no matching cash sale, card payment or transfer for either claimed purchase. No order sat under a different customer’s name corresponding to the described delivery.
“I’ve asked my assistant again,” she said. “She remembers the real hall flowers because we had to change them when the heat spoiled the first choice.”
That genuine order had its own invoice and payment. Priya placed it separately.
“This one is not disputed.”
Helen touched the corner of the page.
“Thank you.”
We compared the August correspondence with the explanation Celia had now supplied. She had referred to replacement paperwork and a possible duplicate reference. Priya had asked which genuine purchases the reimbursements related to. So far, no corresponding purchases had been identified.
“Could it just be awful record-keeping?” I asked.
Priya looked at the two sets of papers.
“Then there should be a real purchase behind the bad paperwork. We’re still waiting for one.”
Helen leaned back.
“I asked that question in August.”
“Yes,” Priya said. “You did.”
The bell sounded again. A woman wanted to collect an arrangement already paid for. Helen checked the name and handed it over. The transaction took less than a minute because the record matched the event.
While she was gone, I asked Priya whether the money had been repaid.
“I haven’t found a repayment against these entries. That’s included in the query. I won’t call them recovered unless they are.”
Helen returned with her diary. She wanted to add a note of today’s meeting, including what she had confirmed and what remained for Priya to establish elsewhere. Priya checked the wording with her.
“Will this be enough for people to stop saying I made a fuss?” Helen asked.
Neither of us promised.
“It should be,” I said. “I don’t know whether it will be.”
Outside, the shop window reflected the three of us as we put on our coats. Helen looked at the reflection rather than at me.
“I kept wondering if I’d missed something. An order somebody else took. A payment I couldn’t find. After a while I wasn’t even asking them to apologise. I wanted them to show me how I was wrong.”
Priya closed her folder.
“Keep your records. You don’t have to keep doubting them to make somebody else comfortable.”
On the pavement, we separated. Priya went home to compare the findings with the remaining review. Helen returned to her shop. I headed for school, carrying nothing more useful than a clear account of what four hundred and twenty pounds had not bought.
Vivienne rang before I reached the corner.
“Did Helen misunderstand?”
“No.”
There was a long silence.
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
I stopped beside the crossing.
“She was afraid to say it for months.”
The green figure lit up. I crossed while Vivienne searched for an answer.
When she spoke again, her voice was different.
“I need to tell her I was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“Would you come with me?”
I reached the other pavement and stopped.
“Ask Helen. I don’t think I’m the person you need beside you.”