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
I follow him into the cool warehouse. For the next hour or so, we walk, keeping our conversation to what I’ll need for a few days’ stay. He grabs suitable pieces and arranges them by the back door to deliver to Le Petit Mas de la Lavande later that afternoon. I think a mattress will do me for a few days, but he insists I need a bed and finds me a big wooden one, with carved acorns on the posts, tells me it’s been here for ages and he can offer me a very good price. He sorts out a mattress, and I wonder what on earth I’m going to do with them when I leave the following weekend. But, right now, the thought of sleeping on a proper bed, with a thick mattress, is worth every euro. And it’s still cheaper than a hotel. I take the chair because I like the idea of having a little project to do while I work out where to go next. Fabien insists on four plates and beautiful cutlery, ‘because eating correctly is important for the stomach and well-being’. I take some pans from a random box of cooking utensils, which he adds to the pile, with my bundle of bedding. He doesn’t ask any more questions about why I’m here on my own, needing ‘everything’, or why I’m staying just for a bit.
We pass a clothes rail. He picks out a wrap-around dress in a cherry print and holds it against me.
‘Oh, I’m not sure I should,’ I say, as, with his other hand, he pulls out a kimono top, unlike anything I’ve ever worn before.
Suddenly a wave of guilt washes over me. I’m not in this warehouse to enjoy myself, just to buy practical necessities. Enough to make you content … I hear Fabien’s words as I look at the dress and the top. I have barely any clothes with me, and the ones I have are for rainy British weather …
Next weekend I plan to give the key to the estate agent. I have until then to work out who I am and where I’m going. I can be whoever I want to be. Go where I like. I look at the dress and smile at Fabien so he adds it to the pile with a nod of agreement; it’s a good choice.
‘Parfait,’ he says, and holds up another dress, then a silk dressing-gown – ‘For the mornings,’ he says. I’m blushing a little but I take the gorgeous dressing-gown and he smiles.