The man sucked his teeth. ‘Expensive to get the wrong thing and have to change it.’
‘I’ll have a think,’ said Fran and was grateful when someone changed the subject.
At last, people started to mutter about babysitters and begin to leave.
When she and Antony were going, the man who wanted to sell Fran a car kissed her rather too affectionately and reminded her to get in touch. ‘I’ll see you right,’ he assured her.
But once outside the house, Antony said, ‘Don’t buy a car from that man.’
‘Oh? Is he untrustworthy then?’
‘I wouldn’t buy anything from him myself. I’m not saying he’s a rogue but he charges over the odds and would try to get you to take out finance for it which is never a good idea if you can avoid it.’
‘I may not have much choice. I hate the thought of it but I must be practical.’
‘I must say I was very impressed by the cheese. Would you really take it up to London to sell?’
‘It’s where I know people who’d buy it.’
‘It shows initiative that you did something with milk that would have been wasted.’
‘Glad you approve,’ she said, hoping he couldn’t tell how grumpy his approval made her. If she’dmadethe cheese because she thought it was a good idea it would have been fine. But she’d made it because the track was too bad for the milk to be collected. And although the rain had eased off and the tanker had made it up the previous day, it could all go wrong again at any time.
‘I don’t know if you’re interested, but I go up to London about twice a week. If you wanted a lift I’d be happy to take you,’ Antony said.
Amy would turn her shoulder and decline politely, Fran knew, but she was tired and a bit frazzled. ‘That might be very useful. Although I do still need a four-wheel-drive car.’
‘You do, but don’t rush into it. And as for the track – if you like I could lend you the money to fix it.’
This amazingly generous offer took her aback. And she knew Amy would refuse it, under any circumstances. She should too. She took a breath. ‘That’s very kind but if I’m making cheese with the milk I won’t need to fix the track.’
‘You will, you know.’
She did know. There was no point in trying to make the farm profitable – if such a thing was possible – if people couldn’t get to it.
‘So, how about the lift to London?’ Antony went on.
This was an offer of help she felt she could accept. ‘Which day are you going?’
‘I’m going up three days next week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday.’
‘Shallwe say Friday?’ Fran said. This should give her time to see Amy, make more cheese, get herself a bit better organised.
‘Friday’s fine. I’ll pick you up.’
‘I’ll meet you at the bottom of the lane if you like,’ said Fran.
‘No need for that,’ he said. ‘Besides, if you’re going try and sell your products you’ll have samples. But I will just tell you that I always work on the drive to London. I have a driver.’
‘That’s all right!’ she said, part relieved and part offended. ‘It means we don’t have to make polite conversation all the way to London.’
‘Or indeed any sort of conversation.’
Fran suspected he was laughing at her. ‘Did that sound rude?’ she asked. ‘I hope it didn’t.’
‘It sounded honest, which is always nice and unusual.’
‘Unusual? Do people usually tell you a whole load of lies, then?’
