A Country Escape Read online

  ‘I’ll take you, next time I’m going to the supply shop,’ said Tig. ‘There are one or two things we need.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Fran. ‘I have to say, Tig, you’re very talkative today. Positively garrulous.’

  His face formed an expression that in anyone else would be laughter. ‘Getting to know you a bit better.’

  This was almost as good as him saying he trusted her to make the farm pay, but as this was a long way off, she couldn’t expect that yet. ‘So, where does your mother live?’

  ‘Little cottage, down by the bottom of the lane. Turn left at the bottom of the track and you’ll see it. Hers is the second one along. Mine is the first one.’

  ‘Thanks. And would now be a good time, do you think?’

  ‘Possibly. Mornings are best for her. She has a nap after lunch and later she watches Pointless.’

  Fran laughed. ‘I like Pointless too. I’d rather go now while I can see the potholes in the track.’

  ‘That’ll need seeing to soon, I reckon. The track’s been bad a long time.’

  She sighed. ‘I have a plan to get it sorted out, but you know what happens to plans. But if the track’s in good condition maybe I won’t need to make cheese.’

  ‘You’ll need to make cheese,’ said Tig firmly. ‘Not enough money in liquid milk, not the amount we produce.’

  Fran found the pair of cottages quite easily. She realised that if they were part of the farm, they could probably be sold and solve all the financial problems. But she would never do that, she realised, before the thought was fully formed. It would be wrong for so many reasons. It would break up the estate and make Tig and his mother homeless. She rather hoped they owned their cottages and then the thought need never arise again.

  Instinct told Fran to walk round to the back door and the speed with which it was opened told her this was the right thing. Mrs Brown seemed less daunting than before when she had made Fran feel judged and wanting. Now she was wearing black trousers and a pretty V-necked jumper. Her hair, though greying, was in soft curls round her face and she had Tig’s bright blue eyes. She had his skin too, weathered but firm and attractive.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Brown,’ she said immediately. ‘Tig thought it would be all right to call.’

  ‘I’ve just put the kettle on for my second breakfast. Come in.’

  ‘I want to learn about cheese,’ said Fran when she was in the spotless and tidy kitchen, sitting at the table. ‘I can do soft cheese now, but I need to make a hard cheese. I know you’re quite busy with your sister and Tig, but I thought I’d find out as much as possible before you go away.’

  Soon both women were seated with tea and a plate of biscuits between them, Fran started on her list of questions. Mrs Brown was calm and easy to talk to. Possibly Fran had passed some sort of test, but now Mrs Brown was an ally, Fran was sure.

  ‘Did you make the cheese at the farm, Mrs Brown? If so, which building?’

  ‘We used to make it in the dairy, but it’s been a junk store for a while now. When my sister was ill, I had to go and look after her so Amy didn’t have anyone to make the cheese. She said she didn’t have time to make it herself.’ Mrs Brown frowned. ‘She didn’t quite have the knack, truth be told. She knew what to do but it never came out quite right.’

  Fran remembered what John Radcliffe had said about there being magic involved. Maybe Amy didn’t have the right spell. ‘She told me about the quarry where you used to ripen it?’

  Mrs Brown laughed. ‘Oh yes. The quarry. It wasn’t just a quarry obviously. It had a roof. But it was a good place for the cheese.’

  ‘So where is it, exactly?’

  Mrs Brown shook her head. ‘She’ll tell you herself when she wants you to know. She’s always been very secretive about it. It goes back to the War when I think they hid bits of extra food up there. She only told me where it was when she found getting up there too much for her.’ Mrs Brown paused, putting an end to the subject of the quarry. ‘So, just how much about cheesemaking do you know?’

  ‘Nothing really. Except what I’ve learnt from making soft cheese.’

  ‘Well, it’s quite simple really. What you’ll need to do is find out what sort of state the old equipment is in.’

  ‘You wouldn’t make the cheese for me?’

  Mrs Brown laughed again. ‘No, no. I’ll help you, but I won’t do it for you. When it comes down to it, cheese is mostly washing up! There’s so much equipment that has to be washed and dried, sometimes it seems that’s all you do!’ She paused and became more serious. ‘I have my sister who’s not well who I have to visit quite often. Besides, it’s important that you do things for yourself, if you’re going to take over the farm.’

  ‘I may not. I may not have the opportunity if I don’t make a go of it.’

  Mrs Brown looked anxious for a second. ‘But you want to make a go of it? You’re not just here for a little rural holiday?’

  Fran laughed. ‘Sorry, but the thought of this being anything like a holiday is hilarious. There’s no phone signal, no shower, no central heating, the bed is as old as the house and less comfortable to sleep on. This is not a holiday!’

  ‘So why are you still here?’

  Fran took a breath. It mattered to her that both Mrs Brown and Tig should understand why she was putting up with all the difficulties, the challenges, the anxieties, for a life that was pretty foreign to her, really. She searched for the words that would make it clear. She took a deep breath. ‘I’m not sure,’ was what she came out with. ‘I can’t really explain but although it’s so tough here, one way and another, I do love it. It feels right for me. I love the scenery, I love the way of life, I’ll get to love the cows – I’m sure I will, when I know a bit more about them. There’s no sensible answer, really. I just really want to make a go of it.’

  Mrs Brown put her hand on hers. ‘Then that’s good enough for me.’ She cleared her throat. ‘One of the reasons Amy doesn’t want the farm sold, one of the many reasons, is that it will put Tig out of his home – I own this cottage but Tig is tied to the job. Oh, I suppose the new owner might keep him on, and if him-next-door—’

  ‘Antony Arlingham?’

  ‘Yes. If he bought it he probably would let Tig go on living here even if he sold her herd – but – well, Amy would turn in her grave if Antony bought it!’ Mrs Brown suddenly realised what she’d said. ‘If she was in it, I mean,’ she added, looking embarrassed.

  Fran overlooked this faux pas. ‘But why would Amy react so badly? Antony seems a really nice guy.’

  ‘As I told you when we first met, it goes back to his grandfather’s time and Amy doesn’t forget. Or forgive, in this case.’

  ‘But that’s ridiculous. None of what happened all those years ago could be Antony’s fault.’

  ‘It’s not only that, it’s what he’d like to do with the farm. Some people say he’d turn it into a vineyard.’

  Fran nodded. He had connections with the wine trade, Seb had told her. Wouldn’t he have mentioned his plans to her? Apparently not. And while a vineyard would be so much better than a motorbike scrambling centre, which was one of the other suggestions, it would still be wrong.

  Mrs Brown nodded. ‘It’s got the perfect sunny slopes you need.’

  Fran realised Mrs Brown was right; it was a possibility. ‘It would be dreadful for the land to be ploughed when it never has been, for the structure of the soil to be changed after hundreds of years.’ (She’d done a bit of internet searching about ancient pasture since Issi had told her how important it was.)

  ‘Exactly.’ They had both finished their tea and Fran felt it was time to go.

  Back in her own kitchen, Fran emailed Antony thanking him for his kindness the day before. She went on:

  I will come and collect the pheasants and grouse as soon as I can arrange to make the pastry etc. (I may have to buy a food processor.) As I may have mentioned, I do plan to have a supper club (when people invite strangers to dinner in their homes and they p
ay what they think is appropriate, just in case you’re unfamiliar with the concept). I’ll get my friend Issi down from London to help me.

  Thank you for everything,

  Fran

  PS You don’t have a printer I could use, do you?

  Fran had planned to walk the farm sometime, see every corner and find the quarry. It wasn’t that she needed it yet, she was just annoyed that she didn’t know where it was and equally annoyed that no one would tell her. But as the rain had sleet in it, she concluded that today wasn’t the day and decided to check out the dairy to see how easy it would be to turn it into a cheese room. And if that wasn’t right for her cheese room, she’d find somewhere that was.

  The room she felt was best had whitewashed walls and a stone floor. It was the same size as the dairy, but it had a lot less stuff in it and she thought the walls could be lined with something washable, and the floor tiled. Eventually she’d like to have both rooms. Between this room and the dairy, she found a wooden cheese press, some moulds and something with a screw and a handle that was possibly a mill, for crumbling the cheese before it went into the moulds. This much she felt she knew.

  But it would take a lot of work to make it suitable for producing cheese she could sell, she could see that. And she’d have to buy new moulds and probably other things to make sure they were up to standard. And she had better check when she herself had last passed a food hygiene certificate. While she looked at the piles of stuff that would have to be cleared out she allowed herself a few moments of envy for Amy. When she had cheesemaking going on here she probably didn’t have to worry about Health and Safety. People had probably eaten quite a lot of germs but, mostly, they had survived. Things were a lot stricter now.

  Fran was feeling a bit depressed when she got back into the house. Tomorrow she’d have to make more cheese, she was certain. What with the weather making the track impassable for the tanker, it was inevitable. She decided to get all her kit in order. This cheered her up somewhat as she’d had the culture through the post so she could now make feta. Feta was a good cheese to cook with.

  However, checking her emails later that afternoon gave her cause to become even more cheered. It was Issi.

  I’ve been working things out and wonder if I could come down for more than a few days? Would you have me for a month or so? Hill Top would be the perfect place to work on my thesis and I could help you set up a website and with all the online marketing. I’ve got a good bit saved up so I can contribute to the housekeeping and I could carry on with the online stuff I do already. It would be so great – if you’ll have me.

  Fran got straight back. It would be amazing! Come as soon as you can and stay as long as you like. I can’t wait for you to be here.

  Chapter Eight

  Just before she was properly awake the following morning, Fran was aware of feeling happy. Then she remembered that Issi was coming down. She felt she’d done well in the short time she’d been on the farm – nearly three weeks – but the problems were pretty insurmountable. Having Issi for help and support and pooling their housekeeping money would make it far more doable.

  She decided to visit Amy early – she could get a phone signal in town and talk to Issi too. Sundays at the care home were always cheerful. Also, she felt she should tell Amy about Issi. She was sure Amy wouldn’t mind her having a friend to stay, but maybe asking her would be politic. And if Fran didn’t tell Amy herself, someone else surely would!

  To her surprise the farm gate was open when she got back from the care home and there was a contractor’s van pulled into the layby before the farm gate. The signwriting on the side told her it belonged to a firm who specialised in ‘Track-Repair & Road Services’.

  A cheery-looking man in a high-vis jacket and waterproof trousers appeared.

  ‘Hello!’ said Fran brightly, trying not to feel unnerved by the prospect of the farm track being attacked by powerful machinery.

  ‘Morning!’ said the man. ‘Antony sent me over to sort out your track.’

  ‘But it’s Sunday!’

  ‘I’m fitting you in specially.’

  ‘Thank you so much!’ Antony must be a very important customer.

  ‘It’s in a bad way, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ There didn’t seem anything else she could say.

  ‘It’ll take a few days, I’m afraid.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s fine.’

  ‘Do you want me to tell you what we’re going to do?’

  No, Fran didn’t. ‘I’m sure if Antony hired you to make the track suitable for the milk tanker, that’s good enough for me.’

  The man grinned. ‘That’s the plan. He has high standards, has Antony. We’ve done a lot of work for him. If it’s not up to scratch, he makes us do it again.’ He paused. ‘Pays promptly though.’

  ‘Well, that’s good.’ Fran smiled. ‘I’d best be off up the track. Will I be able to walk on it while you’re doing it?’

  ‘Oh yes. Should be fine. But good you’re keeping your car down here.’

  When Fran reached the back door she was surprised to see a large cardboard box. It couldn’t have been left by the postman, he never came up, and nor did any other delivery service. She opened the box. In it was a fairly new-looking food processor and a printer. There was a card with Antony’s address printed on it.

  I don’t use the food processor so you can have this and I also have a newer printer. Enjoy!

  ‘I will, thank you, Antony!’ said Fran to herself. ‘But how can I ever pay you back for all this? Cooking a few – even a lot of – game birds won’t really do it.’

  But it was all she could do at the moment. She was determined, however, that something would occur to her. She couldn’t be in his debt, and while she couldn’t repay him in actual money, there would be more things he needed than having his chest freezer emptied out.

  When she had got her new toys into the house and had unpacked the bits and pieces she’d picked up after seeing Amy, she poured the morning’s milk into wide bowls so the cream could rise for the following day. What she couldn’t fit into the bowls she left in the churns. She’d learnt to be adaptable when it came to her cheesemaking but some better equipment would make her life easier. The food processor was a start.

  Three days later, she picked up Issi from the station. The amount of jumping up and down they did as they greeted each other caused a bit of amusement among the less-excited travellers but they were both so happy.

  ‘I felt so jealous of you, having this whole new life to get into,’ said Issi, not for the first time.

  ‘And I’m so thrilled you’re going to be here to share it with me. It’ll be so much more fun with two of us.’

  ‘So, what’s our first project?’ asked Issi as they walked to where the car was parked, dragging her suitcases.

  ‘Getting home? But when we’ve had lunch and you’ve moved in, I’d love to see if we can get rid of the old fireplace.’

  ‘Oh, me too! Maybe we could ask Tig if he could help? Find some mates who could supply some muscle?’

  ‘Good idea. If we can avoid hiring a builder and just pay friends, it could save a lot.’ Fran paused. ‘God, this case is heavy!’ she went on, trying to heave it into the back of the car. ‘What have you got in here? Kettle bells?’

  ‘It is mostly text books and kitchen equipment I thought you might need,’ said Issi.

  ‘Oh, brilliant! If I have a properly equipped kitchen I feel I can do anything. Although a properly equipped dairy is probably more what I need really.’

  ‘Have you got any sort of dairy?’

  ‘Yes, but it hasn’t been used as one for ages and is full of junk and probably won’t be considered hygienic by Food Standards.’ She paused. ‘But there’s another building I think would be easier to convert.’

  ‘We need to get on to that then,’ said Issi, possibly sensing the dip in Fran’s mood.

  ‘Antony said he’d do it for me. But I don’t think I can accept, not really.’<
br />
  ‘Tell me about this Antony?’

  Fran did up her seat belt. ‘You know almost as much about him as I do. He’s Amy’s sworn enemy and, so far, my best friend.’

  ‘Just a friend?’

  Fran allowed herself a sigh. ‘Well, if things were different, if he wasn’t Amy’s sworn enemy, if I wasn’t so busy trying to keep things together here—’

  ‘So what do you have to do, Fran? Tig does the cows …’

  ‘I’m trying to get the books in order, sort the house out a bit and I’ve even had to fix bits of farm building. Things are falling apart rather. I quite often have to check on things for Amy, or find things for her. It’s hard to pin down what I do, but it takes up a lot of time.’

  ‘Jill of all work, then?’

  Fran nodded. ‘I don’t know where the time goes except I don’t even seem to have time to cut my toenails let alone wax my legs.’

  ‘So that means Antony is out of the question? Because you’ve got hairy legs?’

  Fran laughed. It did sound pretty trivial. ‘It’s not that really. If we didn’t lead very different lives, I might be interested in him. I mean, he is quite attractive, but honestly, Issi, he’s way out of my league and, after Alex, I am rather off men.’

  ‘You were unlucky last time. Alex was attractive but a bit wet.’ Issi had made it clear, after it had all ended, exactly what she’d thought of Fran’s previous boyfriend. ‘And as for being out of Antony’s league, you are a very lovely woman, you know.’

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, honey, but really, you should see his house! Horrible but very expensive. And it’s a well-known fact that couples are usually of similar status, financially and looks-wise,’ she went on briskly, not giving Issi time to comment. ‘Now let me tell you what Amy said about you coming.’

  ‘Well, go on then!’

  ‘She said, “Oh, you can’t cope on your own then? That’s disappointing.”’ Fran sighed. ‘I think I’m destined to always disappoint Amy. I just can’t do what she did for so many years: run the farm on my own.’