A Country Escape

by Katie Fforde

  ‘I can imagine,’ said Antony and received an inscrutable look in recognition of the fact he had spoken.

  ‘I’m glad you’ve kept the picture,’ Amy went on. ‘I’m very fond of that picture.’

  The picture in question was the painting of hills, fields and a house that possibly represented the farm. Although Fran and Issi had agreed it was the worst form of amateur art it was doing a good job hiding some missing plaster.

  ‘Who did it?’ asked Fran, feeling there must be a sentimental reason for Amy’s fondness.

  ‘A friend of mine. She was always arty. Now,’ said Amy, obviously thinking the conversation about the painting was exhausted. ‘Did you say something about lunch?’

  Amy did well. She enjoyed the quiches, ignored the salad and drank a glass of her own home-made cowslip wine. Then she said, ‘Well now, I want to taste some cheese.’

  Fran took a breath. ‘Really, Amy, you know perfectly well that I can’t let you have any.’

  ‘They’re still my cows, you know. My milk. If you’ve been making this fancy cheese I have a right to try it and I don’t want to die not knowing what it tasted like!’

  ‘But, Amy—’ Fran, a chef, had been on courses; she knew about raw milk and its potential hazards.

  ‘I think you should let Mrs Flowers try the cheese,’ said Antony firmly. ‘She can make her own decisions and take responsibility for her actions.’

  Amy looked at Antony properly for the first time. ‘That’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard one of your family say in fifty years.’

  Fran wasn’t happy, but she had to agree. ‘Just don’t sue me if you get ill,’ she said to her as she gave her a small blob of mascarpone. ‘Have it on a biscuit with a drop of jam. It’s delicious.’

  But Amy didn’t want crackers or jam. She took her knife to the cheese and lifted it to her mouth. She sniffed at it and then ate it, all on its own. ‘Hmm, she said. ‘Not bad.’

  This was high praise from Amy.

  Fran had intended to run alongside the quad bike while Amy had her tour of the farm but Amy, securely fastened next to Antony, had other ideas. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, child! You won’t be able to keep up. Tig will come with me; he can run faster than you. Go back and make a cake or something. You’re good at that. Oh and Tig, you’d better bring a notebook, there are bound to be instructions.’

  Issi and Fran went back into the house together, both feeling a bit like schoolgirls dismissed from the head teacher’s office.

  ‘I was hoping they’d see the quarry so I’d find out where it is,’ said Fran.

  ‘I expect she’ll grill Tig about the farm,’ said Issi. ‘I think it’s all going quite well with the calving but she’ll ask searching questions.’

  Without consulting, Fran put the kettle on to make them both tea. ‘Do you think I was wrong to give Amy that bit of cheese? I’d never forgive myself if she got ill. She’s quite frail.’

  Issi considered. ‘She did know the risks and think how sad it would be if she’d never had a chance to taste it? You’d feel awful about that too.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Fran, sighing. ‘I don’t know why I’m so fond of her. She’s not always very nice to me.’

  ‘She’s got character and I do think she’s fond of you,’ said Issi. ‘She just doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve.’

  ‘But supposing I’ve killed her!’ Fran wailed.

  ‘The sooner the old bird dies, the better,’ said Roy, coming into the kitchen, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

  ‘Are you back already?’ said Fran. ‘I thought you’d still be away watching rugby or football or whatever.’

  ‘It wasn’t a match, sweetheart, it was a very successful meeting. Very successful.’ He paused, and helped himself to a slice of quiche left over from lunch. ‘So where is the old biddy? They told me at the home she’d come up here for the day.’

  ‘She’s having a tour of the farm,’ said Fran. ‘So who was your meeting with?’

  He tapped the side of his nose with his finger in a way that made Fran want to punch him. ‘You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart. And you won’t like it!’

  Roy insisted on driving Amy back to the care home, somehow fitting the walker and other bits and pieces on to the back seat of his car. Fran would have been quite happy to stop him doing so, but seeing how eager Amy apparently was to spend some extra minutes in his company she didn’t feel she could argue.

  Fran and Antony found themselves alone. ‘Thank you so much for doing that,’ said Fran. ‘It was incredibly kind of you.’

  ‘She did seem to enjoy it. She kept asking Tig questions and telling him things and he was brilliant. He wrote it all down, answered questions, set her mind at rest. All sorts.’

  ‘Did you find the quarry?’ said Fran. ‘I really need to do so. I’m sure she would have said something. You’d think she’d want me to find it.’ Feeling she was sounding a bit emotional, she fell silent.

  ‘If we went near it, she didn’t mention it,’ said Antony, holding both her hands.

  Fran sighed.

  ‘You need cheering up,’ he said firmly. ‘Let’s drive over and see the puppies. June asked me to bring you the other day but I’ve been so busy – as have you – but now would be a good time for some puppy jollity, don’t you think?’

  ‘I do certainly think! What a wonderful idea. But will it be convenient for Jack and June, do you think?’

  ‘If you’ve got a litter of puppies in your house you don’t go out much. I’ll call them.’

  ‘I’ll go and tidy myself up – maybe change out of this dress and put my jeans back on,’ said Fran.

  Antony caught her wrist lightly between his fingers. ‘Don’t do that. You look lovely.’ He kissed her temple.

  A moment’s reflection and Fran realised she was probably rather tousled and messy; she was touched. ‘Oh, OK,’ she said, resisting the temptation to glance in the mirror and check what she really looked like.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘I’m so sorry I’ve been away so much,’ said Antony. They were on their way to see the puppies and Fran was excited at the prospect of having uninterrupted time with him, in his large comfortable car, for at least forty minutes. ‘It’s a bit hectic at work and it means you’re having to deal with all this on your own.’

  ‘Not at all! You’ve been amazingly supportive. What about today? Amy wouldn’t have ever seen her farm again if it weren’t for you.’ She paused. ‘Roy would never have done anything like that for her and yet somehow he always muscles in and takes the credit. He wasn’t even due back from his sporting trip.’

  ‘Which sport?’ He sounded curious.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know!’ She wondered if it was important and decided it couldn’t be. ‘I don’t even care.’

  She didn’t want to waste precious moments with Antony talking about Roy. She looked across at him now. When she was with him she felt completely happy. But he was away a lot and she missed him.

  Antony, as if he could read her thoughts, put his hand on her knee briefly, as if to reassure her. ‘There’s nothing like a litter of puppies for making you put all the bad stuff away.’

  ‘How old are they now?’

  ‘They must be about a month, I think.’

  ‘I can’t wait – they will have grown so much! Think how tiny they were when we looked after them.’

  He glanced at her quickly. ‘You were amazing. No one else would have done what you did.’

  ‘Of course they would. Everyone loves puppies,’ said Fran. ‘I just wish I felt the same about cows. I mean I love them, I’d do anything to keep them from harm, but they’re awfully big and they scare me.’ She paused. ‘Don’t tell anyone. It’s ridiculous for a farmer to be frightened of cows. Not that I am a farmer, really.’

  ‘I think you are. You may not own the farm but you’ve been looking after it.’

  ‘I’m doing my best.’

  She didn’t confess to her worries ab
out whether she could really make the farm a going concern, even if she did inherit it.

  ‘Oh my goodness, how you’ve all grown,’ said Fran as she went into the room where the puppies were kept. ‘Moving around and everything. And look! You’ve got a mum now!’

  ‘Yes,’ said June, obviously proud and delighted. ‘It was worrying for a while but we got her interested in them again, and now it’s as if nothing ever went wrong. Sit down on the sofa and I’ll give you one to hold.’

  ‘Which one is Betsy?’ asked Fran. ‘She was my favourite – not that I had a favourite really,’ she added guiltily.

  ‘Here she is,’ said June and put a furry bundle in Fran’s hands.

  ‘You’ve changed so much! Open eyes, walking properly,’ she said. ‘I can hardly believe it.’ She kissed the puppy. ‘You are so adorable. They all are, of course.’

  ‘We’re very pleased with them,’ said June. ‘There are a couple who are showing signs of being really useful little working collies.’

  Fran was about to ask if Betsy was one of them, when June went on.

  ‘It’s as if their bad start had never happened. And they’re all spoken for now.’

  ‘Oh, how lovely,’ said Fran, hoping her disappointment wasn’t obvious.

  She’d been half hoping to stake a claim on Betsy; they’d shared some dark midnight hours together, and although logically she knew the little puppy could have no memory of their time together, she did seem very happy sucking at Fran’s fingers and being stroked.

  Antony sat down next to her and picked up another puppy. ‘They are adorable, aren’t they?’

  Fran suddenly realised how very sexy seeing a strong man being tender with a tiny creature was. That little thing in large, capable hands. A pang of yearning hit her so hard she had to cough and clear her throat in case it was noticeable. ‘Heavenly,’ she said, but she wasn’t only referring to the puppies.

  ‘Would you like to stay and eat with us?’ June asked when the puppies all indicated they’d like to go back to sleep now, thank you. ‘I’ve got a shepherd’s pie in the oven and it’s huge. We haven’t seen Antony properly for ages,’ she went on. ‘He’s always gadding round the world being an international businessman.’

  ‘Empire-building, that’s me,’ said Antony, laughing. ‘It’s hard get the proper respect from people who’ve known me since I was a boy with my front teeth missing,’ he said to Fran.

  Fran’s decision was made. ‘Shepherd’s pie sounds delicious.’ These were old and dear friends to Antony and it was a privilege to have supper with them, even though she had been hoping for some private time with him. ‘And I’m longing to hear about your new grandchild,’ she added.

  It was a very jolly and informal meal, and June, who’d had a couple of glasses of wine by then, said, ‘What you two did for pups that weren’t even yours was off the scale of kindness. It meant we could be with our daughter when she needed us.’

  And when Fran was helping clear up, June put her hand on Fran’s arm. ‘We’re so happy to think he might have found a decent girlfriend at last. I always say finding a man who’s rich and kind is like finding lovely shoes that are comfortable: it’s really rare. But it does mean he attracts a lot of the wrong sort, who just want to take advantage of him. You’re not like that.’

  Feeling slightly guilty herself because June’s inhibitions were down, Fran couldn’t help herself probing. ‘So it wasn’t only his wife who was – not so nice.’

  June shook her head. ‘There’ve been a couple of shockers. Real gold-diggers. But fair play to him, he brings them over here and if they don’t go down well with us, he backs off.’ She frowned. ‘Not always immediately, but eventually they get the heave-ho.’

  ‘Oh golly, I hope I pass the test!’

  ‘’Course you have. When you slept on a sofa so you could feed our pups through the night, you proved you were a star!’

  ‘Who’s a star?’ said Antony, coming in to the kitchen with another load of dirty plates.

  ‘Fran is,’ said June. ‘For helping with the puppies.’

  Antony smiled down at Fran in a way that made her stomach flip with lust and her heart leap with love. ‘She absolutely is. And now I really must get her back. I’ve got a horrendously early start in the morning. I should have been in Lisbon yesterday for a meeting so I’ve got to be at the airport in the middle of the night.’

  ‘Antony!’ said Fran, aghast. ‘You missed an important meeting so you could take Amy round her farm? We could have picked another day!’

  ‘A meeting is only important when I’m there,’ he said with a wink. ‘And they arranged it at very short notice. I wasn’t going to cancel Amy.’

  ‘Quite right,’ said June.

  Antony turned to her. ‘Thank you so much for supper, June. It was, as always, delicious.’ He gave June a big hug.

  When the farewells and thanks were finally complete and they were back in the car, Fran realised that Antony was a very private person and he only really came out of his shell with people he knew well and loved. It made her feel very special.

  The following morning Roy was up before Fran and she felt resentful. It was bad enough having to share the house with him without him intruding on her early mornings, which she usually had to herself. She had to make cheese that morning and then she was going to see Amy. She wanted to see whether the previous day had completely taken it out of her and made her ill. If the cheese Amy had insisted on trying hadn’t already done that.

  ‘I thought I’d go and see the old lady this morning,’ said Roy.

  ‘I’m going this afternoon, when I’ve made cheese,’ said Fran, ‘so don’t wear her out.’

  ‘I don’t know why you care so much about her. She’s just standing between us and the farm,’ said Roy. ‘She’s had a good innings – the sooner she pops her clogs now, the better.’

  ‘I know you only say these things to upset me, Roy, but I do wish you wouldn’t.’

  ‘You’re not saying you don’t want the farm? Or is it just you don’t want me to have it?’

  ‘That’s pretty much it. I don’t want to see it all ruined.’ Fran put her slices of bread in the toaster.

  ‘You’re too sentimental, Fran. This farm isn’t a viable proposition unless it is “all ruined” as you say.’

  ‘I’m selling my cheese for very good money,’ she said, thanking her stars for Roger and his posh delis.

  ‘That may be true but you need a hard cheese and even then it probably won’t be enough. Farmers have to diversify these days.’

  ‘That’s what the cheese is. When Amy was in charge she sold it as milk. I’m adding a huge amount of value and selling it direct to retailers. Nothing could be more profitable than that.’

  ‘It still won’t pay the bills, mark my words. And supposing Amy does last for another ten years?’

  ‘Well, you’d have pushed off back to Australia anyway!’

  ‘I can stay for a year, no worries. And if she lasts much longer, you’d have to sell the farm to pay for her care home.’ Roy crunched into his toast annoyingly loudly.

  ‘Then neither of us gets to inherit. Big deal! And it’s Amy’s. It’s only right that she should spend the money it raises on her care.’

  In fact she knew that Amy didn’t have to live very much longer before paying for her care home would be a real issue. Amy had pre-paid six months and that time was speeding by.

  ‘And Antony only wants you because he wants the farm, you know. If I get it, you won’t see him for dust.’

  ‘That’s not true!’ Fran said, all interest in her breakfast gone.

  He shrugged in a knowing way. She couldn’t bear it.

  ‘Well, I can’t sit here chatting all day,’ she said. ‘I have cheese to make.’

  ‘We should go through the books together,’ said Roy. ‘We should know what sort of a state this farm is in.’

  Fran had the authority to look after the farm’s finances and she didn’t want to share it
with Roy. But he was right. She should go through the books again, maybe with Antony who had experience of such things. She’d learned a bit about it all since she first arrived. And supposing she did inherit the farm and still couldn’t make a go of it? How heartbreaking it would be to have to sell it. But she wasn’t going to let Roy near the books. She’d hide them if necessary.

  ‘Well, we’re not doing it now, Roy. As I said, I’m busy.’

  After she had made cheese and shared lunch with Issi and Tig, she went into town to see Amy and do some shopping.

  She did the shopping first, buying Amy some of the lemon drink she liked. She added the bottle to the basket that held some miniature versions of the large quiches she had made the day before. She liked to bring presents – somehow she felt if she arrived empty-handed it would be a disappointment.

  She nearly bumped into Mr Addison, Amy’s solicitor, coming out of the door of the care home. ‘Oh, hello!’ she said. ‘Is Amy OK?’

  He shrugged. ‘She is very elderly,’ he said in case somehow Fran didn’t know this. ‘She’s never going to be really OK, is she?’

  Then he walked off, and Fran opened the door of Amy’s room not knowing what she was going to find.

  To her relief Amy was both still alive and awake, which seemed a miracle.

  ‘Are you tired of visitors?’ Fran asked as she kissed Amy’s cheek. ‘I won’t stay long. I just wanted to make sure you were all right after yesterday. It was a long day.’

  ‘It was. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy seeing the old place but that cart thing, whatever you call it, that I went in wasn’t very comfortable.’

  Fran exhaled, not sure if she was glad Amy was still her slightly difficult self or annoyed that something she had thought would be a wonderful treat turned out to be ‘not very comfortable’.

  ‘You haven’t had any side effects from the cheese you tasted?’

  ‘No. Why should I? It wasn’t poisoned, was it?’

  ‘Of course not, it’s just it was made from unpasteurised milk … Oh, never mind.’

  Fran kept her word and left Amy quite quickly. Amy was tired and needed to ‘rest her eyes’ as she liked to call a daytime nap.