Amyfrowned as if she didn’t quite understand what Roy was saying. ‘Francesca is in charge of the farm,’ she repeated.
Fran ended the visit quite soon after this as Amy obviously wanted her nap. But she could see Amy was also animated. She’d enjoyed Roy’s visit, and Roy had come across as a dedicated farmer who would put his heart and soul into Hill Top.
‘Now I have things to do. Why don’t you have a look round the town a bit?’ She was half expecting him to insist on coming to make an appointment at the bank with her, but she was not having that.
‘Can you show me to the nearest pub that’ll have Sky? I’m a big sports fan and I’m guessing you don’t have Sky up there at the farm.’
‘You guessed right! I don’t know much about the pubs but there’s one there. You could ask them. I’ll meet you there after I’ve had my appointment.’
‘Great. There’s a match I want to see tonight.’
‘You don’t seem to be suffering from jet lag,’ said Fran, reluctantly impressed. ‘I’d want an early night if I’d flown halfway round the world.’
‘You’re only a girl, you don’t have the stamina blokes have.’
She made a face at him and set off for the bank. She may be ‘only a girl’ but he would find out what she was made of soon enough!
ChapterTwelve
It was a relief to spot Tig’s car and to see Issi coming out of the house to welcome them.
‘You must be Roy,’ said Issi, holding out her hand. Her smile was a little grim. Fran had packed a lot into her panicky texts. ‘Good to meet you.’
‘Good to meet you too,’ said Roy, clasping Issi’s hand with a friendly leer. ‘I gather you’re living here with Fran to keep her company?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And now you’re my chaperone!’ said Fran gaily, hoping her desperation wasn’t audible. ‘Amy checked you were still here. Otherwise Roy would have to live somewhere else.’
‘To be honest, ladies,’ said Roy, sounding reasonable, ‘we can do what we like up here. She’s never going to know. You can move back to London, Fran, leave everything to me.’ He grinned. ‘Just like the old lady’s going to.’
Issibristled, but Fran raised a hand. ‘Let’s go in the house. I’m desperate for a cup of tea. And, Roy, make no mistake, nothing happens on this farm that Amy doesn’t find out about. You either live here with us both, or you go elsewhere. We’re staying put.’
‘Fair enough. Don’t blame you for fighting as long as you know who’s going to win. Now, have your cup of tea and then give me a guided tour.’
He insisted on being shown everything, and commented on everything, from the ancient shelter on the hill (‘Nice roof tiles on there. Bet you’d get a few bob for them. I’ll find out how much they’re worth’) to the new cheese room (‘Bet this cost a pretty penny. How’d did you finance that? I know it wasn’t the old lady.’) By the time Fran steered Roy back to the house, having heard him put a price on everything, she needed more than tea. Luckily Issi had a meal on the go and a bottle of wine open.
After supper, when they were clearing up and Roy had gone off to the pub to watch the match (what kind of match they hadn’t quite grasped and didn’t want to ask), they discussed him.
‘I’ve worked with and known loads of Australians,’ said Fran, scraping the crispy bit from around the cottage-pie dish. ‘And they’ve all been great. Hard-working, great sense of humour, generally terrific. Why can’t he be like them?’
‘Well,to be fair, and I do hate to do that in this instance,’ said Issi, ‘but he may be hard-working. He may have a sense of humour. We just hate him because he’s here, threatening to take all this’ – Issi gestured – ‘from you.’
‘Hate is a strong word.’
‘Yup!’ Issi agreed. ‘And I hate him too, because if he’s a bastard and sells the farm as building land as you said he told you he would, what’ll happen to Tig’s job? His home? It wouldn’t just be you going back to London, it would be me and Tig, too. And I don’t think he’d transplant.’
Fran put the kettle on, more from habit than anything. ‘In some ways you’re in a worse situation than I am.’
‘It’s Tig I’m worried about. He loves this land as much as Amy does.’
‘So do I,’ said Fran. ‘Oh God!’
‘More tea. In front of the fire. You go through. I’ll bring it.’
‘And if all that isn’t enough,’ said Fran, having sipped the tea, ‘the bank want to see me. It’ll be about Amy’s loan. When I came everything was supposed to be OK for six months, but I think she forgot about the loan when she arranged everything.’
‘Oh, Fran! When are you going in?’
