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 get dressed and go downstairs to the kitchen, enjoying the feel of the cold tiles under my bare feet. I’m wearing the wrap-around dress I bought at the brocante and it feels so different from anything I’ve worn before. I run my hands over the soft fabric and like the way it makes me feel. I take a deep breath. Right now, I have to think about what I’m going to do with my life. How I’m going to make a living, now that I’m here to stay. The old recipe book is on the table. I find comfort in laying my hand on it, touched, too, by Fabien’s kindness. It’s been a long time since anyone did something as thoughtful for me. I open the first page. ‘Tuiles de lavande,’ I read, running my finger under the words and saying them aloud. Biscuits with lavender. Perfect! I’m going to make a recipe from the book each day. I’ll show Fabien how grateful I am for his gift and kindness, that I intend to embrace all things French and lavender. I’ll make the biscuits and take them to Fabien as a thank-you present for the book and dressing-gown. My day has a purpose already. It’s Monday, market day! Maybe Fabien will know of any jobs going. In fact, he’s sure to.

I pick up my basket, slip on my shoes. ‘Be good, Ralph!’ I say and, putting the book on a shelf so he can’t damage it, I leave the house, closing the front door behind me, then walk down the drive to go shopping for the ingredients. The smell of pine is in the air as I stroll into town along the grassy riverbank, past the beautiful blue settee under the tree by the river.

‘Bonjour,’ I say to the two men playing chess, and to another sitting on the settee. I wonder again what this place is. It’s like a film set.

‘Bonjour, Madame,’ they reply as I pass, barely looking up. I feel a strange sense of melancholy: perhaps I should ask someone about this place. I’ll ask Carine. Maybe we can have that coffee today.

What was the word for ‘flour’ again? I check Google Translate and run the word, ‘farine’, over and over in my head.

At the end of the path I walk down the lane, past olive trees and tall cypresses. Small brown birds flit among them. I can hear voices from open windows, couples in loud discussion, families. An old woman sits outside her front door dressed in an overall, her stockings wrinkling round her ankles, preparing green beans, and a child rides around on a bike. They all greet me with a nod and I head for the market and the shops.