Chapters (79)
- COVER
- About the Author
- Also by Jo Thomas
- DEDICATION
- 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
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- RECIPES
- Lavender shortbread
- Apricot jam sponge cake
- Lavender lamb
- READ MORE
- Prologue
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING
The next day is much the same. Stephanie gets up and bakes the desserts for the bistro and I walk along the riverbank, passing the clearing, which is deserted now. I have no idea where all the people came from or where they go at night. But at least they slept on full stomachs, wherever they were. And the honesty box covered our costs and some. I must start paying Stephanie, now she’s doing all the work on the stall. It doesn’t seem fair not to.
Fabien and Rhi visit Henri again that day, and I throw myself into cooking, returning to the pages of the old recipe book for inspiration. Stephanie joins me just before lunch service.
‘I’m going to pay you for these shifts,’ I say, and pull out an envelope from my bag. ‘I know Henri would want that. And now the stall is starting to make some money, I can pay you for that too. It isn’t much but it’s something.’
‘No, no.’ She shakes her head emphatically. ‘You do enough for me,’ she says. ‘This is my way of saying thank you. To Henri and to you.’ She pushes the envelope away. ‘Please. There’s nothing I need. You offered me food and accommodation in return for work. JB is working for Fabien now. We have enough. Maybe in time …’
The very mention of his name makes my heart flip over and back again. ‘No, I insist!’ I push it towards her again. ‘Something for you and Tomas, for the future.’
‘No, I insist,’ she says. ‘Buy more lavender plants.’ She pushes it back towards me. ‘For the future.’ She wraps her small hand over mine, closing the envelope into my palm. ‘Maybe in time, I’ll need a coat for Tomas, some shoes …’
‘Of course!’ I say. ‘Please, take the money.’
‘Maybe in time,’ she says again. ‘Buy plants first.’
‘Then I’ll take you and Tomas shopping. JB too! We’ll make a day of it. New clothes for us all and lunch!’
We giggle.
‘But this week we’ll invest in more plants for the farm, so that it continues to give us a home and a business,’ I say. ‘But if you need anything for you and Tomas, just tell me.’
At lunchtime, we’re full. People have heard about the ‘lavender restaurant’ and want to try the local product. I even overhear them talking about how lavender was a herb used in cooking, like any other, but mostly now in toiletries. There’s even a journalist wanting to write about lavender and its resurgence in the kitchens of Provence.
After service, with aching feet and backs, we lay the table in the window to eat, Stephanie, Tomas and me. As we’re collecting the cutlery, JB arrives, with Fabien. And no matter how shattered I feel, suddenly every nerve ending is alive.