Knowing it was the last thing she should be doing, Fran gulped down about half of it.
‘What’s the cheese like?’ Roger asked.
‘It’s heavenly, Rog, and I’m not exaggerating. I just hope nothing bad has happened to it on the journey.’
He handed the case with the cheese in it to a passing waiter. ‘Take that into the kitchen and give it to André. Thanks, mate.’
Fran watched Erica’s thermoses disappear along with the case and realised it was forever. She gulped, hoping the cheese really was as good as she thought it was.
‘I’d better go,’ she said, wondering if she’d ever find her way back to where Antony had stopped the car.
‘OK, well, thanks for doing this. You really did go the extra hundred miles or so.’
Fransmiled. ‘Not quite that far. But I’ll leave you to it. It’s going to be a fantastic food festival.’ She looked around at the beautiful room, full of beautiful people, interspersed with TV cameras setting up. ‘On telly, too! I’m sure it’s going to be absolutely amazing!’ Then she was off.
She dodged her way through the smartly dressed people who were arriving, recognising some famous faces from the food world, including Gideon Irving, the food critic. So her cheese really was going to be tasted by important people. It was very exciting!
Antony’s car was parked on some double yellow lines, hazard lights flashing. Fran almost fell into the front seat.
‘I am so pleased to see you,’ she said. ‘I feel as if I’ve run a marathon!’ The champagne, although nice at the time, had been a mistake.
‘You have been through a lot,’ he said, moving off. ‘Can I suggest something?’
‘Please do. I have no decision-making ability at the moment. Currently I just wait for what life throws at me and then try to duck.’
She caught his amused and possibly loving glance. ‘Then I’ll take you to my flat. We can order some lunch.’
‘I desperately need a shower …’ She really didn’t want to be taken to some swanky restaurant when she was in jeans she felt she’d worn for weeks and a top that wasn’t much fresher.
‘Youcan have one. Lunch will arrive in the flat.’
‘That would be lovely, I must say.’ So much had gone on just recently, not just in actuality, but emotionally. Standing under a stream of hot water instead of dodging about under the hand held one at the farm would be bliss.
Antony might have Seb to drive him around most of the time but he still seemed very adept at getting around London, down the back streets used by professionals.
They pulled up in front of a fairly modern-looking block right next to the Thames.
‘I bet you have amazing views,’ said Fran. She was so disorientated by everything that had happened to her recently, she had to resort to small talk.
‘We do. You’ll see in a minute.’
A man in a uniform appeared at Antony’s open window and took the keys, presumably so he could take the car and park it.
As her car door was opened by a similar man, Fran realised how different Antony’s life was to hers. Although she felt she knew him a lot better now, this did make her feel shy.
She managed a tentative smile in the lift that shot up at an alarming rate. Antony smiled down at her. ‘Nearly there.’
‘Oh,’ she said when the doors opened on to a corridor. ‘I was rather hoping the lift would go straight into your flat.’
‘Sorryto disappoint! But it’s not far.’
‘Oh my goodness,’ she said when they were in. ‘I know I said you must have wonderful views but I didn’t know quite how wonderful!’
The wall at the end was glass and the whole Thames and every landmark on it, from Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, the London Eye and in the distance the silver outline of the Shard, was laid out before her.
‘It’s why I chose this apartment. Now, let me show you where the shower is. Shall I order lunch? Is there anything you particularly fancy?’
‘You order. I’ll shower.’
