He shrugged. ‘Not lies exactly.’
‘But what comes out of the back end of cows?’
He laughed audibly this time. ‘Exactly.’
Fran sat in silence for a minute or two. ‘So are you a multi-millionaire then? Having a chauffeur and all?’
‘Certainly not. You could say I was comfortably off, but that doesn’t make me the spawn of the devil, you know.’
‘Hmm,in Amy’s eyes you’d be the spawn of the devil if you didn’t have a brass farthing, as I’m sure she’d say.’
‘True. Amy thinks I’m the spawn of the devil for all sorts of other reasons.’
Fran suddenly found this rather depressing. Amy’s dislike of Antony was always going to be a problem for her.
‘I’ll tell her how kind you’ve been to me,’ she said.
‘Don’t. She wouldn’t want me to be kind to you. She’d suspect my motives.’
‘Would she be right to suspect your motives?’ Fran was suddenly suspecting them herself.
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m just offering you a lift. It’s no big deal.’ He sounded a bit cross.
Fran couldn’t help wondering why.
ChapterSix
Fran didn’t take any samples to Amy in the care home. She knew that old people shouldn’t have products made from unpasteurised milk and she didn’t want to be accused of trying to bump off her elderly relative in order to get her hands on the farm sooner than she might do. She did tell her about it though, at her next visit, a few days later.
‘Amy? I made some cheese with the milk.’
Amy was being particularly deaf today so Fran didn’t bother with details.
‘Cheese?’ said Amy. ‘Did you find the presses and things in one of the outhouses?’
‘No. At least, I think I did, but I’m making soft cheese to begin with.’
‘Our milk makes lovely Cheddar,’ said Amy. ‘It’s the grass the cows live on. Full of flavour.’
‘Oh, I know! The soft cheeses all taste amazing!’
‘Youwant to age the cheese in the little quarry,’ said Amy, ignoring Fran. ‘Six months – even a year – in there and you’ll have the tangiest, tastiest Cheddar you’ll ever eat.’
‘Oh? Where is the quarry?’ said Fran. This was really useful information.
‘It’s on the farm!’ said Amy, as if Fran was being stupid. ‘And now if you don’t mind, Francesca, dear, it’s time for my nap.’
As Amy frequently fell asleep without it being time for her nap, Fran felt flattered to be warned.
‘Just before you nod off, could you just tell me where the quarry is? On the farm?’
But it was too late, Amy’s eyes were closed and her chest was gently rising and falling. Fran decided to ask Tig sometime about the quarry. She also resolved to go and see Tig’s mother, Mrs Brown, and find out about how to make hard cheese. As she drove home she pondered the quarry. She knew cheese was aged in caves and mineshafts but a quarry? It would have to have some sort of roof, surely? In her mind quarries were open to the skies.
Thanks to Tig finding a number of old milk churns, which he presented to her, sterilised and clean, Fran managed to use all the milk on the days when it wasn’t collected. It was hard work, having to make the cheese in such small batches, but she kept onbecauseshe knew the milk co-op would like to stop collecting from her altogether. If she had a proper market for her products before that happened, she could get some help and maybe buy some equipment. Currently she was storing it all in the domestic fridge, which was not ideal. She needed a dedicated fridge. Although to be fair, it took a lot of milk to make quite a small amount of cheese.
She would also need a dedicated cheesemaking room that would pass all the health and hygiene requirements, proper sterilising facilities and possibly a refrigerated van. How she’d ever pay for all those things made her head hurt. Perhaps she should start buying lottery tickets.
Fran enjoyed travelling up to London with Antony the following Friday. The fact that he was working meant she could sit in the front with the driver, Seb, who, though pleasant, didn’t chat so Fran could look at the scenery. She could also plan what she was going to say to the various people she had arranged to meet. (One of them was Issi, for drinks, which she was greatly looking forward to.) In the boot of the car was a selection of very smart cool boxes, lent by Antony, containing her samples.
