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

And suddenly this house, which Ollie chose and I moved into and have resented for the last six weeks, is my house, my space, my home. It kept me safe when my world was falling apart. Suddenly it matters to me. I have nothing but this house and Ralph, a bed, some bedding and a half-finished chair.

‘We’re cash buyers, so I’m presuming we can come to a deal on the price. There’s a lot that needs doing, so we’re really just buying the position,’ Keef drones on.

Carine looks at me and I look back at her. We may be thinking the same thing. We hold each other’s gaze.

‘Actually, Carine,’ I say slowly.

‘Oui, Madame?’ Her head cocks, her neat bob shifting, and her lips twitch with a smile. The sound of the bed being assembled upstairs has stopped and Fabien is now behind me.

‘All done,’ he says. ‘Where do you want the table?’

I turn to him. ‘In the kitchen, please, Fabien, where I can see the view.’

‘Parfait,’ he says.

‘Actually, Carine,’ I repeat, and Fabien stops in his tracks.

The buyers are staring impatiently at me, keen to agree a deal. He is chewing the arm of his aviator glasses. Her arms are folded over her chest. No one speaks. They are anxious for me to name my price.

‘Le Petit Mas de la Lavande is no longer for sale.’

‘I see,’ says Carine.

‘What – has someone else nipped in before us? Okay, okay, I’ll give you the asking price if that’s what it takes.’ He sighs heavily, sweat forming on his brow in the warm June sunshine.

‘No. There’s been a change in our … my situation,’ I say, trying to control the waver in my voice.

‘You and your husband are staying?’ Carine asks.

‘I’m staying, Carine. Just me.’ I lift my chin, feeling brave, joyous and terrified all at the same time. ‘I’m staying at Le Petit Mas de la Lavande. I’m not selling it. I’m not going back to the UK, with or without my husband.’

This time Carine smiles. ‘I see. Of course, et bravo,’ she says, filling me with confidence.

‘You mean you’re not going to sell?’ says Keef.

‘Offer her more than the asking price!’ hisses his wife. ‘I can’t be bothered to trail round any more of these old places.’

Keef sighs. ‘Go on, then. We’ll pay your asking price, and ten per cent. And you’ve had a lucky day. Make sure it all goes through quick, though. And you can take all that crap away too!’ He waves at Fabien and the truck. Fabien says nothing, but I see his fist curl.