‘It’s tiny. You’ll need something else if you’re going to warm this room up.’
‘I know it’s tiny, but look at the beam above it. I bet there’s a wonderful original fireplace behind this little coal-burning thing. I long to take a sledgehammer to it.’
‘I’d wait until you’re sure you’re staying put, but I understand what you mean,’ said Issi, looking around her. ‘It’s not exactly shabby chic, but I do like it. This room could actually have been two or maybe even three rooms.’ She looked up at the ceiling, which had large beams at intervals.
‘It’s “old-lady chic”, that’s what it is,’ Fran decided. ‘And I like it too. Although I wish I could investigate the fireplace. I bet there’s something amazing behind all this thirties stuff.’
‘An old bread oven or something to cook on? You said yourself, you’re here to farm not to cook,’ said Issi. ‘If you thought you were going to miss cheffing, you should have stayed in London, cooking for the pub.’
‘No,’ said Fran determinedly. ‘This time I’m going to work for myself and make my owndecisions.But I suppose you’re right, I can’t knock the house around, not if I haven’t actually inherited it yet.’
‘So tomorrow you’re seeing your aunt – cousin – what is she?’
‘I can’t remember exactly how we’re related but she’s some sort of connection to my read dad. I’m Amy’s – I suppose I’d call her Aunt Amy – I’m the only relation she could trace. She’s been running Hill Top on her own since her husband died. Now she’s had to go into a care home she thought she should try and leave it to one of her relations. I think she got in touch with another one but, according to the solicitor, he never replied.’
‘Which is why you’re here.,’ said Issi, who then paused. ‘Shall we investigate the bedrooms? They may be damp and we’ve got to sleep in a couple of them tonight.’
‘Thank you so much for coming with me,’ said Fran as they made their way up the stairs. ‘This would all be a bit daunting on my own.’
‘I’m just sorry I can’t stay longer. It’s such an adventure!’ Issi paused. ‘Would you have preferred Alex to come with you?’
Fran shook her head. ‘No way. One of the reasons we broke up was that he wasn’t up for adventure. He seems very happy being an intern for his uncle in New York … Although going on the fact there are supposedly very few straightmenin NYC I suspect he has another motive.’ She sighed. ‘No, I really don’t miss him, apart from as a friend, sort of.’
Was she over Alex? Fran knew that Issi was still concerned about this, but she definitely was. He was a kind and lovely man but, when it came down to it, too safe and a bit dull. They’d broken up a few weeks ago after a couple of years together.
Fran knew they’d been going through the motions for a while but the catalyst had been this opportunity – challenge, even. If Alex could have hacked the countryside (unlikely) he couldn’t cope with the uncertainty. A straightforward inheritance might have been different – but probably not. Fran, on the other hand, although terrified, was very excited by it all.
A few minutes later, Fran and Issi were making up beds, helping themselves to soft, old flannel sheets they found in the airing cupboard. Then they found hot-water bottles and filled them, although they agreed they didn’t think the house was damp. Then it was time for supper.
‘So,’ said Issi when they’d eaten most of the moussaka that Fran had made and brought with her, and heated up in the electric oven. ‘You’re seeing Amy tomorrow?’
‘Yup. After my meeting with the lawyer. He said in his letter he’s arranged for me to have a bit ofmoneyto run things with but I don’t expect it’s very much.’ She sighed. ‘It is quite daunting when I think about it. I know nothing about farming – and yet here I am. I could have said no when I first heard from Amy’s solicitor but …’ She paused. ‘I wanted to challenge myself.’
‘See if you can run the farm for a year and make it pay?’
Fran nodded. ‘Of course I don’t have to look after the cows myself. There’s a herdsman. Amy would never let her precious cows be looked after by an ignoramus, which is what I am as far as farming is concerned.’
‘And cows are quite big, aren’t they?’ said Issi.
‘Are you afraid of cows?’
‘More to the point, are you?’
Fran swallowed. ‘I really hope not but actually – I think I am!’
Issi laughed. ‘Let’s finish the wine and then get an early night. You have to be up with the lark tomorrow. Better set your alarm for six. Get used to your new life.’
Although Fran knew Issi was joking, she also knew what she said was true. As for being afraid of cows, she’d just have to find out when she met them.
The next morning they were standing in the kitchen, shrouded in layers of woollen jumpers and clutching steaming mugs of tea. Fran’s longbobhad not been straightened that morning, and her blue-grey eyes had no trace of make-up. Nor were her freckles toned down with make up. She felt she looked like a scruffy ten-year-old but had more important things to think about than her appearance. Issi was looking pretty natural as well.
‘It’s the lawyer first? Then your Aunt Amy.’
Fran nodded. ‘I’m not sure how long it will all take. Will you be OK here on your own?’
Issi nodded. ‘I’m going to sort out the pot plants, and maybe do a bit of exploring. I might even move the furniture around a bit and clear out the odd cupboard. Would you mind?’
‘Not at all. I’m so grateful you’re here. I wouldn’t grudge you a bit of entertainment. In fact I think you’re going to have a better time than I am.’
