‘I think Roy’s entitled to know,’ said Megan. ‘It’s not a secret, is it? Oh yes, I remember – it is a secret! Amy would never leave you the farm if she knew about it, would she?’
Fran wanted to get out of the car and stomp off but she wanted to get home even more. Just thenherphone vibrated in her pocket. It was Antony. ‘Hi,’ she said, before he could speak. ‘Yes, I’d love a lift home, thanks.’
She opened the car door. ‘As you would obviously rather spend time talking to Megan I’ve made other arrangements. And please don’t come home drunk again.’
‘Hello, darling,’ Antony said quietly, and kissed her.
It was the slightest, most harmless kiss, but it conjured up all sorts of blissful memories and stirrings from the night before. It took a lot of throat-clearing and shoulder-straightening before she said, ‘Hello back.’
He set off. They didn’t speak for a while and Fran realised how much she loved watching Antony drive. She loved seeing his well-shaped hands on the wheel.
‘What’s been going on?’ he asked.
‘Well, I was going to get a lift with Roy but then we met Megan. Apparently they are now “bessie mates”, although I can’t quite think how. They can’t have much in common.’
‘I think you’re overlooking one thing they very much have in common.’
‘What’s that?’
He didn’t answer immediately. ‘They both want something you have, or might have.’ He looked embarrassed.
‘Youmean Megan’s so jealous of me and you that she’s prepared to chum up with someone like Roy to get back at me?’
‘Exactly.’
‘God!’
‘This sounds awful, but she’s had her eye on me for some time now. I’m sure not for me but for my money. You’re standing in the way of what she wants – me – and what Roy wants – the farm. That could make for a very binding partnership.’
‘But no one knows if I’m going to get the farm.’
‘True, but you have got me.’
Fran allowed herself to sigh blissfully. ‘And Roy wants the farm. From Megan’s point of view there’d be satisfaction if she could stop me getting the farm as well.’
ChapterTwenty-One
A week after Fran and Roy had been called to her bedside, Amy was back at the care home. Fran had taken it on herself to make sure she had small, tempting morsels of food to keep her appetite from flagging. She was preparing to visit Amy now and Issi was making them a cup of coffee, having just given Fran an update on the latest calf to be born – a fine heifer with lovely markings.
‘You’re so good with the cows, Issi. I do admire you.’ Fran put some little frangipane tarts into a plastic bag and tucked it into the box. There was another bag with finger sandwiches and yet another with some bite-sized pasties.
Fran knew Amy would never eat it all but she wanted to offer her a choice, and it made her feel positive, thinking of things Amy might like to eat.
The doctors had warned Fran and Roy that Amy would never get back to being quite as well as shehadbeen before her infection. Fran found this desperately sad. Roy seemed to think that the dangling carrot of his inheritance had just got a bit nearer.
‘Obviously I wouldn’t have got so involved with the cows if I didn’t have feelings for Tig,’ said Issi. ‘But now I’m interested because I really like them. Who knew there was a dairy farmer in me, struggling to get out?’
‘I wish I was a bit more like a dairy farmer. I like what cows produce – very much – but as for looking after them? I am still a bit afraid of them.’
Issi put a mug of coffee on the table for Fran. ‘It doesn’t matter though. You’ve got Tig to look after them for you.’
‘I know. I’m very lucky. Amy was very lucky.’ Fran snapped the lid on the box of tiny comestibles. ‘Although I do wish he’d told me he staggered the calving so we always had milk and didn’t let all the cows go dry at the same time. I wouldn’t have worried so much about what I’d do when there was no milk.’
‘He’s not a great talker,’ said Issi.
Fran noticed she didn’t seem unhappy with this state of affairs. Usually Fran would have made some vulgar reference to his other skills but today she didn’t have the heart for it. Antony was abroad and Roy kept making snide remarks about him being an International Man of Mystery, implying what he did was somehow immoral if not actually illegal.Sheknew that he was dripping this same poison into Amy’s ears, too.
Amy was fairly bright when Fran arrived at her room. She was up and dressed and sitting in the chair for the first time since her illness. She was obviously peckish, too.
