‘Well, Roy obviously keeps you well informed, Megan,’ said Fran.
‘It goes both ways.’ Megan shrugged as if she was doing everyone favours. ‘I was able to tell him that I’d spotted you and Antony having coffee together the other day. Amy was very interested to hear that, I assure you!’
‘She didn’t say anything to me about it,’ said Fran, truthfully. ‘I tell her about the farm and anything I think she would be interested in, but not my every move.’
‘You know how she feels about you spending time with Antony—’
‘’Scuse me, you two,’ said Erica. ‘But there are customers waiting. I’ll catch up with you soon, Megan. We’ll do lunch.’
Thismade Megan move away but without noticing that there weren’t customers waiting at all.
‘Thank you so much for getting rid of her,’ Fran said. ‘She’s got it in for me.’
‘And we all know why,’ said Erica.
Erica had restocked the stall from her van but they were getting low on cheese when Fran looked up to see a familiar face coming towards her.
‘Hell! It’s Fran!’ said a large man with a lot of curly hair.
Fran came out from behind the stall so she could hug him. ‘Roger! It’s you! What are you doing here?’
‘What areyoudoing here is the question. You should be in my restaurant kitchen!’
‘You would never have offered me a job in your kitchen, you’re far too snooty,’ said Fran, so thrilled to see her old friend and former boss she could hardly contain herself.
‘Not as a chef, obviously, but as a KP …’
Fran punched him in the arm. ‘My kitchen porter days are over,’ she said. ‘I am now a cheesemonger and maker.’
‘Really? Let me taste some.’
Fran loaded up a cracker with her special cream cheese.
‘Oh my sweet Lord. I’ve died and gone to heaven!’
‘Don’t exaggerate, Roger,’ said Fran, who was used to his hyperbole.
‘Iam not exaggerating. For once, I’m not. Let me taste everything! If I like it, I’ll sell as much of it as you can provide.’
In the end they had to stop him not only tasting, but buying everything. Erica said she had regular customers who had to have their orders but he bought almost every scrap of cheese on the stall.
Exhausted, and pleased they could pack up early, Erica said, ‘Well, who was he, then?’
‘Shall we pack the van and go for a coffee? I’ll tell you everything I know about him.’
Fran told Erica exactly what she used to do for Roger when she worked for him, and also what a lunatic he was.
‘Let’s google him!’ said Fran, wiping butter off her fingers, having eaten a toasted teacake in record time.
‘Good plan,’ said Erica. ‘Here, use my phone.’
‘My goodness,’ said Fran a little later. ‘He’s gone up in the world. Look! He’s going to have a TV programme and he’s involved with a new deli opening in London.’
‘Not just London, Belgravia,’ said Erica, impressed.
‘So it is. I call myself a Londoner but that bit of London is not on my radar.’
‘Well, maybe it should be!’ said Erica, delighted. ‘It would be so brilliant if you could get your cheese in there.’
