Because life had a habit of going wrong, Fran paid attention to this usually rhetorical question and did more mental checks than usual. But it all seemed fine. Peachy, even!
She was humming to herself as she went in through the back door. Issi was there, stirring something. She turned round as soon as Fran entered.
‘Hi! Cheese go well?’
Fran knew instantly that something wasn’t right. Issi’s words and voice were perky, but her face was a picture of terror.
‘Yes, good, thank you. But, Is? What’s wrong?’
Issi’s expression was agonised. ‘Roy’s back!’ She was obviously worried about being overheard. ‘He brought a friend.’
Fran began to understand. There was more to it than just an extra person for supper.
‘They’re drunk!’ whispered Issi.
Pennies began to drop like coins from a fairground games machine. ‘Very drunk?’ Fran whispered.
Issi nodded. ‘I’m cooking a big meal!’ she said loudly.
Fran wasn’t sure what, if anything, could be overheard next door and realised Issi didn’t know either. It was best to play it safe though.Sheraised her voice: ‘Great! You didn’t invite Tig to stay?’
‘No. He’d gone before I knew we had guests.’ She rolled her eyes in the direction of the sitting room.
It was all a bit ridiculous and Fran was beginning to see the funny side.
‘That’s a shame,’ said Fran. ‘It would have been nice to celebrate the birth of the calf together.’
‘I know but he had such an early start.’
Fran took a minute to work out when her own start had been but as she’d been awake feeding hungry puppies every two hours through the previous night it was hard to say. She decided not to comment. ‘But the calf is OK?’
Issi nodded. ‘They both are. Antony is just so sweet!’
Fran smiled to hear the calf’s name. ‘I wonder how the human Antony is?’
‘You could ring him!’ Issi seemed very enthusiastic about this idea. ‘Invite him for supper?’
‘Oh no. Honestly, I’m dead on my feet. I expect he is too. He was looking after the puppies as well before he went to London. God knows if he’s had a chance to catch up on his sleep.’
‘But you’ll eat?’ Issi still sounded a bit desperate.
‘Of course. I didn’t think I was hungry but now I’ve smelt food I’m starving.’ Fran smiled, hoping to spread reassurance.
‘It’s chilli,’ said Issi.
‘Itis a bit, for the time of year, but put a coat on, you’ll be fine.’ Not a glimmer of response from one of their favourite, oft-repeated, jokes. ‘Issi? Shall I go and say hello to Roy and his guest?’
‘That might be a good idea,’ Issi replied, tasting the chilli from the wooden spoon she was stirring with and then throwing the spoon back in the pot. ‘Offer them coffee?’
Fran knew that Issi would never have tasted the chilli and put the spoon back in front of her unless she was very rattled; it was one of Fran’s pet hates. She lowered her voice. ‘How drunk are they, then?’
‘Extremely. It’s one of the reasons I got the chilli on early. I thought it might help sober them up a bit.’
‘Are they – you know – aggressive?’ At the best of times, Fran’s heart rate increased whenever she thought about having to deal with Roy; if he and his mate were fighting drunk, she might completely panic.
‘Why don’t you go next door and see? I’ll get this on to plates. We can eat through there. Then if they pass out we can just leave them there.’
Fran nodded. ‘I’ll go and say hello.’ She paused. ‘Have you got any wine open?’
