‘Yes, and – please don’t take offence – believe me, if there’d been anyone else I would never have got in touch with you. But we are related. I’d have preferred one of my husband’s relations – it was his farm – but although I tracked one down, they never replied to my letter. So you’re all I could find.’ She paused. ‘I was eighteen when I married and I lived on the farm ever since, until I came here.’
‘Goodness.’ Amy seemed to need to tell her story and Fran hoped she’d sounded encouraging.
Amy nodded and carried on. ‘The farm had been in his family for many generations. We never had children and it was a great sadness to us both to think it would all end with us. My husband died twenty years ago and I’ve been on my own since then. I’ve been worrying about who to pass it on to all that time.’
Fran was touched. ‘I can understand that.’
‘It’s the herd, you see. They’re Dairy Shorthorns and quite rare. The cows on the farm now – and I’ve known them all personally – are related to theoriginalherd. That’s very unusual.’ She gave a little smile. ‘Cows can live to be quite old, you know, if they’re looked after. If I don’t leave the farm to someone who’ll carry on with it, it’ll be sold. The herd will go and all that unbroken pedigree will be lost. That would be a tragedy. So it’s for the cows, the farm, that I tracked you down and now here you are.’ Amy smiled as if this was a satisfactory conclusion.
‘I do hope I don’t let you down.’
Amy shook her head. ‘You won’t. I remember you as a little girl. You liked the cows. You liked their red and white colouring.’ This had obviously stuck in her memory. ‘It’s the herd that’s important,’ she repeated. ‘The bloodline. It must be kept going.’
Amy obviously felt extremely strongly about her cows, even given old people’s tendency to repeat themselves.
‘I see.’ Fran offered a little prayer that she still liked cows herself.
‘And you have Tig, my herdsman. I would never have left you my herd without someone to look after them. But you have to look after everything else – the office work, feed ordering, looking after the buildings: things like that – so he can look after the cows. I’ve paid him six months in advance so he won’t leave.’
Fran wanted to ask why Amy hadn’t just left all of her farm to Tig, but realised this too was to dowithbloodlines. Tig was not related to Amy, and she was.
‘And there’s a bit of money to keep you going, but you have to run the farm for a year and then I’ll decide whether you should inherit.’ Amy’s expression emphasised what a massive reward she thought this was. ‘So you will try, won’t you, Francesca?’
No one ever called Fran ‘Francesca’, not even her mother when she was cross. She realised she liked it. ‘About the house—’
Amy interrupted her. ‘I really don’t care about the house. Do what you like with it. But don’t let anything happen to the herd.’
Fran nodded, instantly thinking about the fireplace she could now investigate.
‘Oh, and don’t let that scoundrel who lives next door have anything to do with you. He’s always wanted my farm and it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t get it! Vineyards, indeed!’
‘Tell me—’ Fran began.
But Amy had closed her eyes and had apparently gone to sleep.
‘She does that,’ explained the nurse who appeared in the doorway at that moment. ‘Bright as a button one minute, fast asleep the next.’
‘When is she likely to wake up again?’ asked Fran, who felt she really should find out about the scoundrel-neighbour as soon as possible.
Thenurse shook her head. ‘Not for a while. You’d do better to come back tomorrow, or as soon as it’s convenient.’
‘OK,’ said Fran. She got up from her seat. ‘I’ll come back. I haven’t learnt nearly enough about things.’ She went to the door, stopped and addressed the nurse. ‘But – are you allowed to tell me? She’s generally well, isn’t she?’
‘Oh yes. She’s very good for her age. I suppose she’s always led a healthy outdoor life. Never smoked, never drank alcohol.’
‘And nothing’s likely to happen to her within the next six months?’
‘I can’t see into the future, but she seems well enough at the moment – although with the elderly you can never really be sure.’ She frowned slightly. ‘She has got a weak heart but she’s managing fine at the moment.’
‘That’s good enough for me.’ Fran smiled. ‘Thank you so much for looking after her. I’m looking forward to getting to know her better.’
The nurse returned the smile. ‘She’s a great favourite with us all here.’
By the time Fran got back to Hill Top Farm it was early evening and nearly dark, she was freezing cold and wanting to open the wine even though it was really only teatime. After her visits, she’d spent a little time investigating the town, then she hadgotlost trying to get home and so most of the day had melted away. She pulled up in front of the house and saw lights peeping out from behind the curtains, which made the house seem welcoming. As she collected her handbag from the back seat of the car she realised how bright the stars were here, miles away from any light pollution.
Minutes later, Fran was in the sitting room, looking around it. The room, which had been cluttered and a bit claustrophobic, was now far more sparsely furnished. And every suitable surface supported a teacup with a flickering candle in it. It was welcoming and restful, just what Fran needed after her day.
‘Wow! You’ve done some good stuff here – and lit the fire. And candles!’
