She heard a beeping on her phone meaning they’d got within reach of a signal. She pulled in at her usual place. ‘Excuse me. I’ve just got to see if anything urgent has cropped up. Most of my friends don’t realise they have to use the landline if they want to get me on the phone.’
There was a text from Issi indicating she’d got Fran’s frantic one. She was in town with Tig’s car, picking up something for him, and would be home as soon as she could. There was an email from her mother, which she planned to read later, and a voicemail. She listened to it. It was from the bank asking her to make an appointment to go in and see the manager.
Her heart did a somersault. Although she’d suspected there was a loan Amy hadn’t told her about she’d never found direct evidence for it, and so she’d managed to put it to the back of her mind.Well,she couldn’t go on doing that. ‘I’ll have to call in at the bank after we’ve seen Amy,’ she said, feeling sick. ‘They want to see me.’
‘Don’t you mean they want to see both of us?’
‘Listen, Roy, you haven’t been here long enough to take your coat off! I’m in charge of the farm until Amy says otherwise. Anyway, they only want me to make an appointment.’ This was something solid she could rely on: she was in charge, even if that wasn’t always a pleasant thing to be.
She put her phone in her bag and set off again.
‘So, what will you do when the farm’s sold?’ asked Roy a minute or two later. ‘Go back to London?’
‘I don’t have a crystal ball,’ Fran snapped, still rattled by the voicemail as well as Roy’s sudden appearance. ‘I can’t see that far ahead. Amy is in very good health. She could go on for years yet.’
‘She’s in a care home. There’s a statistic about how long people live when they’ve moved into care.’
‘Amy wouldn’t hold with statistics. You’ll understand that when you meet her.’
They’d timed it right. Amy was in good spirits and when Fran introduced Roy, sat up straighter and inspected him.
‘Why didn’t you answer my letter when I wrote first?’ she asked, without bothering to say hello.
Roy smiled, and managed to make it very charming, Fran noticed, while she fussed aroundcheckingAmy had everything she needed. Roy pulled up a chair and sat down.
‘I didn’t get it originally, Great-Aunt Amy,’ he said. ‘When I found it and realised what it said, I was devastated and rushed over here straightaway. I was lucky, I got a good flight and it only took me twenty-four hours.’
Fran knew he was lying about not getting the letter but she could hardly say so. She had no evidence.
‘I was made up when I heard about you and the farm,’ Roy went on. ‘I’ve been a farmer all my life so I know how important it is to keep the bloodlines going.’ He smiled again. ‘In people as well as in cattle.’
Amy almost smiled. ‘Tell me about your farm in Australia. How did you manage to come away at such short notice?’
‘I farm with my dad and we have a couple of men helping us. It’s a big farm but we manage to keep it all going with just the four of us.’
Fran had to give Roy credit. He told a very appealing tale of how his father had built up the farm from nothing, working from dawn to dusk. He painted a picture of how beautiful the Outback was until even Fran wanted to jump on a plane and go there, just to listen to the kookaburra and see kangaroos bouncing over the plane. Her knowledge of Australia was extremely sketchy butshesupposed what he was telling them was feasible.
Amy, possibly less gullible, said, ‘You wouldn’t want to come here and farm then, if your family has worked so hard to build up that big farm from just a few acres.’
Roy appeared prepared for this. ‘I have a younger brother. He’d love to take over from Dad when the time came.’
Amy frowned. ‘When I was looking you up I don’t remember a brother.’
‘He’s my half-brother. He’s like a proper younger brother to me.’
He went on about how much he’d appreciate carrying on from such a proud dynasty of farmers and making the farm profitable and safe for the future until Amy stopped him.
‘How nice,’ she said, and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again after a few seconds, she said to Fran, ‘Is that friend of yours still staying at the farm?’
‘Yes she is.’
‘Good. Otherwise it wouldn’t be right for Roy to stay there too.’
‘Fran might have to move out,’ said Roy.
‘Francesca is looking after the farm,’ said Amy firmly.
‘But I could do that – piece o’ cake! Little place like that, after the acreage I’m used to.’
