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
Read on for the first chapters …
Prologue
‘Shit, shit, shit!’ I type like my fingers are on fire.
Outside I can hear the engine of my taxi running. It’s been waiting for at least twenty minutes, and when I booked it I knew I was cutting it fine to get to the airport.
I finish the last email in my inbox, press return on my automated out-of-office email, slam down my laptop lid and scoop it into its case and into my big shoulder-bag. I grab my suitcase, which has been sitting by my desk all day – a patient companion – waiting to go.
‘Oh, Luce, you leaving already?’
My heart sinks.
My boss, Anthony Gwyn-Jones, comes out of his glass-fronted office.
Jasper, my new young colleague, looks up from his desk, which is next to mine, as if he’s surfacing from a pile of work, but I know he’s had his eye on the clock for the last hour. He tries to be the last to leave every day and likes Anthony to notice, but staying late and actually getting the job done are two different things. Hopefully he’ll learn that one day.
‘All done,’ I say, slightly out of breath. ‘And, yes, I’m off. I have a plane to catch. Annual leave, remember?’ I smile.
‘Ah, yes, of course.’ He nods. ‘Back to Italy! The homeland!’ He laughs, his cheeks ruddy. Perhaps his long lunch meeting involved a few glasses of red wine.
Jasper joins in, smiling with apparent good nature. But Jasper’s smile never meets his eyes. He’s ten years my junior, sharply dressed and determined to make his mark in the firm. But not this time. It’s not his turn, it’s mine. This promotion has been a long time coming.
‘Well, I’m not exactly from Italy. I grew up in Wales,’ I tell Anthony, for the umpteenth time.
‘Yes, but with a name like Rossi, you must be Italian.’
‘Anyway,’ I say, ‘I’ve done that document you wanted.’ I have to stop him before he asks where my family are from again, and I have to do the whole bit about my grandparents moving to Wales from a small town just outside Naples, then going back to take over the family restaurant. My parents stayed here to bring up me and my brother. And I don’t want to explain that my full surname is Rossi-Llewellyn – I’d taken my stepfather’s surname after Dad died. I certainly don’t have time for that.
I’m pulling my case towards the door.
‘Already? That was quick.’
‘I have a plane to catch. My taxi’s waiting!’ I say, as politely as I can, but I feel quite stressed now.
‘Oh, right, yes. I just sent you another email, but Jasper can deal with that for me.’
I hesitate. ‘Well, I could take a look at it at the airport.’