BooksBarbecue
Back Escape to the French Farmhouse
Chapters (79)
  1. COVER
  2. About the Author
  3. Also by Jo Thomas
  4. DEDICATION
  5. ONE
  6. TWO
  7. THREE
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE
  40. THIRTY-SIX
  41. THIRTY-SEVEN
  42. THIRTY-EIGHT
  43. THIRTY-NINE
  44. FORTY
  45. FORTY-ONE
  46. FORTY-TWO
  47. FORTY-THREE
  48. FORTY-FOUR
  49. FORTY-FIVE
  50. FORTY-SIX
  51. FORTY-SEVEN
  52. FORTY-EIGHT
  53. FORTY-NINE
  54. FIFTY
  55. FIFTY-ONE
  56. FIFTY-TWO
  57. FIFTY-THREE
  58. FIFTY-FOUR
  59. FIFTY-FIVE
  60. FIFTY-SIX
  61. FIFTY-SEVEN
  62. FIFTY-EIGHT
  63. FIFTY-NINE
  64. SIXTY
  65. SIXTY-ONE
  66. SIXTY-TWO
  67. Epilogue
  68. Acknowledgements
  69. RECIPES
  70. Lavender shortbread
  71. Apricot jam sponge cake
  72. Lavender lamb
  73. READ MORE
  74. Prologue
  75. ONE
  76. TWO
  77. THREE
  78. FOUR
  79. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

I find my seat, put my case into the overhead locker and wait for the man next to me to let me in. ‘Thank you,’ I say, and sit down. He rests his leg against mine. I look down at it, then back at him sternly. He adjusts his sitting position and moves his leg. I take a deep breath and pull out my phone to check my messages. I made it. Got the report in and made the plane. I smile to myself. I did it.

All I have to do is sit back and wait. I’ve done everything I can to get this promotion. And when I do, everything will change. I pull up a picture on my phone of the apartment for which I’ve put in an offer and smile. A home of my own. Finally. This is where I belong. A kitchen in which I can enjoy cooking, relaxing and spending time with friends and family. I look at the clean lines of the brand-new building. Mostly I look at the kitchen, and the dining area. The coffee machine, and the dinner parties I’ll hold there …

‘Phones turned off, please,’ says the attendant, sharply. I disconnect mine and slide it into my bag.

I lay my head against the headrest, shut my eyes and make a list of people to invite to my first dinner party. Mum, of course, and my stepdad. My brother and his family, although he’s so busy running his own business, in swimming-pool tiling, that I barely see him these days. Who else? My boss and his wife? Not Jasper. Well, maybe Jasper. I could throw a housewarming party, look up some old friends from college I’ve lost touch with.

The plane accelerates down the runway, and all I can think about is the kitchen in the new flat, my cookbooks lined up, and having the time to use them. I’m determined to make time for myself when I get this promotion, instead of doing the partners’ work for them as well as my own. Everything will change and I’ll make sure it does.

As we take off, my thoughts turn to Italy and my grandparents’ kitchen. Breathe, I think, smiling …

ONE

The scent of the tangy tomato sauce hits my nostrils, head and heart before I even taste it. My nostrils tingle, my head practically pops with joy, and my heart is so full it feels like it might explode.

I don’t rush it. I take a moment to savour the joy it brings me. I breathe in deeply, the rich, garlicky sauce, the aroma of peppery olive oil, shut my eyes and let my world recentre itself. I open my eyes and twist tagliatelle, smothered in the familiar sauce, onto my fork. I put it into my mouth, and it’s like coming home to the comfort of the hug that awaits me every year.

‘You look like you never eat!’