‘Well, a man isn’t going to like taking orders from a woman, is he? Suffered from that half my working life.’
‘I don’t give him orders.’
‘But he’s not in charge. He’s won’t like that.’
Fran swallowed. Amy could be contrary. She was quite likely to put Roy in charge just to keep him entertained, or to keep her on her toes. She decided to change the subject. ‘Tig put the cows out this morning. It was so lovely to see them all springing and bucking around the fields.’
Amy softened. ‘Ah, I used to love this time of year. Me and my husband used to watch them as they came out of the pen together. It was as if the cows were our children and we were watching them play.’
This took Fran by surprise and sentimental tears caught the back of her throat.
‘Mind you,’ Amy went on, ‘it’s a bit early, isn’t it? Tig always wanted to let the cows out too early. You tell him. Tell him it’s too early. He should leave it another fortnight.’
Fleetingly, Fran imagined herself telling Tig what to do with his beloved cows and now it waslaughterthreatening to embarrass her. She cleared her throat. ‘You picked a brilliant herdsman in Tig. He’ll never let you, the cows, or the farm down. You don’t need to worry about anything he does, I know that.’ She spoke emphatically, and was rewarded by a slight nod.
‘Yes, I did pick a good herdsman. But he’d never take being bossed about by a woman.’
Fran had gone from tears to laughter to feminist outrage in a very short space of time. ‘Amy!’ she said indignantly. ‘You’re a woman! Surely he took orders from you?’
‘But I was over eighty when I took Tig on,’ as if this somehow meant she wasn’t a woman. ‘You’re just a slip of a thing from London.’
Fran laughed openly. Amy was outrageous, but she was also brave and hard-working and had devoted her life to her farm. She had to remember that. ‘Honestly, Amy, I don’t know what to say. But did I tell you about how well my cheese sold at the farmers’ market?’
‘Very hard to get a stall at a farmers’ market.’
‘I know but I was a guest, on Erica’s stall. And an old friend from London—’
But Amy was asleep.
She drove back to the farm, still chuckling gently about Amy and her many contradictions, to find Issi looking out for her.
‘What’sup?’ said Fran as she pulled up.
‘It’s Antony. He called on the landline. He sounded – well – fairly desperate considering how reserved and buttoned-up he is.’
Fran had only just got out of her car before Seb drove up.
‘Fran,’ he said. He sounded extremely earnest for Seb, who usually took a lighthearted view of life. ‘Ant needs you. Can you come with me now? Maybe pack a few things?’
‘Oh God, Seb, what is it? Is he ill? Has he had an accident?’ Fran’s heart was pounding and she felt sweat break out on her forehead.
Seb’s expression softened just a little. ‘He said to tell you, it’s payback time.’
Fran licked her dry lips. ‘For all that he’s done for me?’
Seb nodded. ‘But don’t worry, it’s not life or death – well it is, but only – well, you go and pack an overnight bag and I’ll drive you over to the house.’
Fran shook her head. ‘I’ll drive myself. You go and tell Antony I’m on my way.’
Fran concentrated on driving safely and not letting her desire to get to Park House at top speed make her hit a wall on the way.
Seb was waiting for her. ‘Come in. It’s OK!’ he said, seeing Fran’s anxiety. ‘It’s actually lovely.ButI’ve got to go now, which is why Antony needs you.’
‘Where are you going?’ asked Fran, more confused than ever.
‘Old friend’s wedding. I’m the best man. Here …’
He opened the door to the big sitting room and Fran was instantly struck with how warm it was. Antony got up from the sofa where he’d been sitting and came over.
