by Katie Fforde
‘Come on. Coffee, toast and that letter.’
Fran sat at the table and slit open the letter with a knife. It was long and closely typed. ‘Well, I think it’s good news,’ she said at last. ‘For me, that is, not Roy. Planning has been rejected on most of the site.’
‘Can I see?’ said Issi, obviously itching to get her hands on the letter. When she’d read all the jargon and provisos, she looked at Fran. ‘Interesting. You can have a change of use for most of the farm buildings.’
‘I know. Including my cheese room! Bloody cheek.’ Fran reached for the Marmite. ‘I must turn the cheese that’s in the quarry later. I would have been so sad and fed up if I hadn’t been able to do that.’
Issi crunched thoughtfully for a few seconds. ‘I have to say, Fran, I thought you’d be jumping for joy a lot more about inheriting the farm.’
‘I am jumping for joy,’ Fran said flatly, ‘in my heart. But I am worried. It’s a lot of responsibility and I don’t want to let Amy down.’
‘But you’ve been running it for a while now and you’ll still have Tig for the cows. He’s not going to abandon you. What’s different?’
‘It hasn’t really been paying its way, has it?’ said Fran. ‘I mean my hard cheese could really take off but will it really earn enough money? I’m hoping there’s enough money in Amy’s estate to pay off the bank loan but she was running the farm at a loss for years. I’m at least adding value to the milk cheque but – well, I don’t really think it’s ever going to be enough.’
Issi put her hand on her friend’s.
Fran sighed. ‘When I said all this to Antony last night, he said something that indicated he didn’t think it would make money either. I have to do something else to keep it going. Otherwise, like Roy said, annoyingly, I’ll have to keep selling off little bits, like the stone tiles off the outbuildings. Eventually it would just be a farmhouse in a truly magnificent position.’
‘Beautifully done up with Antony’s money,’ suggested Issi.
‘I don’t want that, Is! I want to pay my way. Antony is truly the most wonderful man, in so many very important ways, but he’d be a bit easier to love if he wasn’t so rich.’
‘Fran? Are you feeling OK? He’s gorgeous, really nice, good and kind and well off, and you’re complaining?’
Fran laughed. ‘I’m not really complaining. Far from it. I feel incredibly lucky, but I want to pay my way in the relationship. He’s giving up a lot to be with me. He’s agreed we’ll live here, for example, and I know he’d let me spend money on the house – and God knows it does need money. I’ve no idea what the real state of it is, but I expect it’s got a lot wrong with it we’re just not aware of. It could be a money pit. I need to make it profitable, not a drain on Antony.’
‘I do understand,’ said Issi after a few moments’ thought. ‘Actually …’
‘What? You’ve got an almost visible thought bubble coming out of your head.’
‘Ever since I’ve known you, before this farming lark came up, you’ve wanted to run a restaurant. Why not run one here?’
Fran bit her lip to help her think. ‘Would people come here for a restaurant?’
‘They came for the supper club. And I could help with marketing. I think people would love to come up to this gorgeous spot.’
‘But only in summer, surely? Would they come all the way up here in winter?’
‘I think so! We know for ourselves that the views in winter are just as good – as long as it’s not raining and you can see a blessed thing.’ She paused. ‘And the food will be amazing too. Destination dining! I’m sure it’s a thing!’
‘And’ – suddenly Fran was squeaking with excitement, all melancholy gone – ‘thanks to Roy, we could put the restaurant in the barn. If we made one wall glass, our guests could eat and look at the view!’
‘You mean because the planners have already agreed to “change of use” they’d agree to it being a restaurant?’ asked Issi.
‘I hope so! Obviously it’s a big project and will cost loads …’
‘I suppose we could ask if Antony can be an investor—’
‘In what?’ said Antony, coming into the kitchen.
Fran’s heart leapt with joy. ‘What are you doing here?’ She jumped up to hug him.
‘I cancelled all my meetings and took the day off so I could come back and be with you,’ he said, kissing the top of her head. ‘I thought you were probably feeling a bit weird about things.’
‘I was feeling very wobbly.’ She smiled at him. ‘I feel better now!’ He looked back at her, his love for her shining out, and she knew that while she had his love, she didn’t need anything else. But she also had a farm she had to make profitable. She took a breath. ‘I think Issi may have found the solution to my problems.’
‘Well done, Issi. What was the problem and what is the solution?’
‘I need to make the farm profitable. As you well know,’ said Fran, rolling her eyes at him.
Issi broke in. ‘Fran’s going to open a restaurant in the barn. But she may need you to invest in the project.’
‘A restaurant? Here?’ He thought for a few seconds. ‘I once went to a restaurant in Scotland you had to drive miles to. It was full every night it was open, apparently.’
‘So you think it might work?’ asked Fran.
The expression in his eyes told Fran that he had other things on his mind for Fran apart from restaurants and investments. ‘I do. I think you could really make a go of it. You could use it to market your cheese, too.’
‘I could really help with that,’ Issi said again, for Antony’s benefit. ‘It’s my thing, sort of, apart from my PhD.’
‘And,’ Fran said, ‘Roy has kindly applied for change of use for the barn and got it. Obviously we’d have to reapply to make it a restaurant but this could be the solution.’
‘It could. You will need to do something else to get Hill Top back on its feet. And I’ll help you in every way I can.’
Fran put her arms round his neck and pulled his head down so she could kiss him again.
‘Now, Fran,’ he said when she’d finished. ‘Let’s go and look at this quarry. I feel I should know where it is.’
‘Oh, can’t I show you later when I turn the cheese? I want to plan my restaurant.’
‘Show me now. It’s important,’ Antony insisted.
‘But, Antony—’
Issi laughed. ‘I think you should go right now,’ she said. ‘Antony wants to talk to you in private.’
‘It’s quite a steep climb,’ said Antony. ‘It explains why no one found it before.’
‘I wouldn’t have found it if it hadn’t been for the calf getting separated from its mum. I had to really conquer my fear of cows to get them back together. I told Amy. I think she liked it.’
Antony took hold of her hand. ‘Come on, let’s pull each other up.’
‘Do you really want to look at the quarry?’ Fran said.
‘Not really. I’d rather look at you.’
‘Seriously?’
‘I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.’
Fran’s heart sank a bit. ‘That sounds rather serious.’
‘I hope it’s good-serious.’ Antony stopped and as Fran did too, he put his hand on her cheek. ‘It’s to do with what Amy said.’
‘About what?’ Fran looked up at him, this strong man she loved so much.
‘I’m not very good at emotional stuff. I’m better in a boardroom. But Amy said she withdrew her objection to us getting together. It meant she wanted us to get married. I want us to, as well.’
‘Are you asking me to marry you?’ said Fran, thinking how annoying men could be, even while they were being wonderful.
‘Yes.’ He put his hand in his pocket. ‘One of the things I had to do this morning was to collect this. Of course you can change it – you might prefer something more elaborate—’
Smiling, and very happy, Fran put her finger on Antony’s lips. ‘Why don’t you show me?’
He opened the little leather box. Inside was a simple gold ring with a large rectangular diamond.
‘My goodness,’ said Fran, suddenly short of breath. ‘It’s the size of a Glacier Mint!’
He laughed and relaxed. ‘No it’s not! Try it on. Do you like it?’
Seeing the diamond on her finger, simple but enormous, made her heart flutter. It suddenly made everything real. ‘I love it,’ she said. Then she looked up at him again, suddenly shy and a bit embarrassed. ‘But you mustn’t ask me to marry you just because you think it was what Amy wanted.’
He kissed her again. ‘I’m asking you to marry me because I love you. And before you ask why – I’m sure you’re going to ask why – it’s because you’re beautiful and brave, funny and sexy, determined and full of initiative. And also very slightly afraid of cows.’
Fran gazed up at him. ‘Would you still love me if I stopped being afraid of cows?’
‘Only the tiniest little bit. Not enough to matter.’
She reached up to kiss him again and as her arms went round his neck she realised how blissfully happy she was. At the start of the year she’d had a farm she didn’t own and didn’t know what to do with. Now it was really hers, she had plans and it had a future. And she had a man she truly loved by her side.
It was more than anyone deserved and she couldn’t possibly have been happier.
Epilogue
Fran was nervous. Although she was looking around at the stragglers from Sunday lunch, all enjoying the warm summer day, having very much savoured their meal (home-reared pork, courtesy of Tig), for once it wasn’t the diners whose approval she craved, it was the special guests.
She smiled at herself. All the guests were special, of course, but there were a few among the family and friends who had filled her restaurant that day who were there to be critical.
They weren’t restaurant critics either. More than a year had passed since Amy had left Hill Top Farm to her and by now ‘Flowers’ had already had enough favourable reviews to make sure they were full every time they were open. Fran had a good team behind her and Issi was brilliant on social media. People knew they had to book up well in advance to eat at Hill Top Farm.
From habit, she was looking about her now, even though service had been over for a while, to make sure everything was perfect – and thanks to Seb, it was.
Seb had turned into a great part-time maître d’. As the restaurant was only open at weekends and Bank Holidays this sideline fitted in well with his day job as Antony’s driver.
Seb had made sure that every occupied table had jugs of water and he had already taken home some of the elderly locals. There was a group of people who had taken to coming to the restaurant on the farm of their old friend Amy and it was Seb who brought them and took them home. While providing a free taxi service wasn’t economic, no one questioned it. The old people got together once a month or so and had a good meal too.
No, it was the group still sitting at the long table in the middle of the restaurant, the table with the best view, that Fran was feeling twitchy about.
It was her fault they were there. She’d invited them. There was her old boss Roger, who had bought all her soft cheese when he tasted it at the farmers’ market. There was Erica, who had the market stall, and Mary, Tig’s mother, who had both helped her make her first hard cheese just after Amy had died. There was John Radcliffe, boss of the big cheese retailer in Fitzrovia who had told her she had to make hard cheese. Also Gideon Irving, a food and wine guru, and his wife, Zoe, the famous TV chef.
Also present were Gideon and Zoe’s good friends Fenella and Rupert Gainsborough, who were staying with Gideon and Zoe. Their various children were playing together on the specially constructed hay bales, supervised by Issi and Tig. Issi was heavily pregnant, looking radiant and obviously hoping to get a bit of practice in childcare before her own baby was born.
Fran’s mother and stepfather were also there, on the same big table. They were embarrassingly proud of their daughter and adored their son-in-law-to-be, who was currently checking everyone had enough coffee, tea, red wine or brandy. June and Jack were there paying special attention to Betsy, the young dog that now belonged to Fran. Antony had given Betsy to her as a birthday present and she had turned out to be a wonderful dog, if possibly a little over-indulged by Fran. Betsy was currently chewing the table leg.
Fran caught Antony’s eye and he left the group and came over. He stood behind her, putting his arms round her and pulling her to him. She leant her head against his chest. ‘I don’t think you can put it off any longer, darling.’
Zoe Irving also came over. She smiled very sympathetically at Fran. ‘You must be dreadfully nervous, having to wait all this time to find out about the cheese.’
Fran nodded. It was kind of Zoe to be sympathetic, especially as she was so well known as a TV chef.
‘I desperately want it to be good for Amy,’ she said. ‘I feel it represents all her years of hard work, of keeping the pasture intact, unploughed, original. And the herd, too. Generations of beasts with pedigrees better than anything you’d see on Who Do You Think You Are?’ She paused. ‘They’re “original population” you see, so hugely important.’
Tig and Issi came up.
‘Tig here has been vital in keeping it all going,’ went on Fran to Zoe. ‘I couldn’t have done any of it without him.’
‘So?’ said Antony. ‘It’s the moment of truth. Let’s taste the cheese.’
Fifteen minutes later people were still clapping Fran on the back and opening bottles of champagne. The foodie people wanted to buy all she could make, Erica wanted it for the farmers’ market and Tig just wanted it in his sandwiches.
‘Well done, darling!’ said Antony, hugging her. ‘I knew you could do it.’
‘It’s not me, it’s the milk, the herd, the farm!’ Fran said to the group gathered round her. ‘But I am delighted. It means I haven’t let Amy down. I was the right person to leave Hill Top Farm to.’
‘Even if you are afraid of cows,’ added Tig with a grin.
Fran looked at him, wishing she could say she wasn’t still a bit unnerved by the huge beasts who were so important to her.
‘Only a bit,’ she said and sipped her champagne.
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Epub ISBN: 9781780890890
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Copyright © Katie Fforde Ltd 2018
Cover illustration: Jacqueline Bisset
Lettering: www.ruthrowland.co.uk
Katie Fforde has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and descriptions of events are the products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons is entirely coincidental.
First published by Century in 2018
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