A Very French Wedding
Chapters (37)
- Cover
- Maeve Haran
- Dedication page
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- The Greek Holiday
- In a Country Garden
- An Italian Holiday
- A Very French Wedding
- Also by Maeve Haran
Cover
Maeve Haran
A Very
French
Wedding
Dedication page
For my fabulous friend Carol Danti who helped me research the region and her lovely daughter, Lucie Spence, who suggested we escape to the delightful Château Carbonneau
One
‘Oh shit,’ wailed Stephanie to her husband. ‘That was Meredith, and she wants to come and stay with us. For two whole weeks!’
David looked at his wife curiously. ‘Meredith Harding, your old school friend? Isn’t that good? Because one, we’re running a B&B, and two, I thought she was a great friend of yours.’
‘She is. One of my oldest. But David, they call Meredith the Queen of the East! She’s used to staying in five-star hotels, or even seven-star hotels, if there are any. We’re much too humble for her. I mean – the thought of all the guests dining together at one table. She’d have a fit!’
‘Then you’ll have to explain that the idea of the chambre d’hôte is all about people getting to know each other,’ David replied calmly. ‘Anyway, what makes her so grand? You’re making her sound like Cleopatra and Madame Mao rolled into one.’
‘She works in some incomprehensible high-powered job in finance. She’s always moving from Hong Kong to Singapore to Shanghai making vast amounts of money, so I hardly ever get to see her. That’s why it’s so great that she’s coming here.’
‘And what brings her?’ David asked, intrigued by the prospect of meeting this dazzling-sounding person.
‘I don’t know. I expect she’ll tell us when she gets here.’
‘And when’s that?’
‘The day after tomorrow.’
Steph and David had opened their B&B in France ten years earlier. Since it was only March and the season hadn’t really started yet, they had plenty of room.
‘Do you want me to get something special from the butcher?’ asked David. ‘I imagine you’ll want to kill the fatted calf?’
‘Absolutely. I’ll get down my recipe book. Did you pick up the croissants?’
‘Of course I picked up the croissants,’ he replied patiently. ‘As we have discovered, fresh croissants are part of the fantasy of staying in France and people get pissed off if you try and palm them off with French bread, no matter how delicious.’