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

Ralph bounds around chasing the little white butterflies that flutter away, leaving him mystified. He turns his attention to the bees buzzing around the lavender, interested but hesitant, eventually backing off and going to search for more butterflies. What would it have been like for Ralph to go to an apartment after this place? It would have been kinder to find him a new home, somewhere like this. A small lump rises in my throat.

I check my timer. All good. Ralph is still being given the run-around by dancing butterflies. In the distance I can see a purple field of lavender. What a sight the deep purple must have been when it grew here at Le Petit Mas. And the smell must have been amazing! Had this still been a lavender farm I could have grown and distilled it, made oil and soap, perfume eventually, then sold it, using my skills from my job in the department store, but one small hedge isn’t enough.

I turn to the kitchen, and smell it before I see it. I run to the oven and fling open the door. The smoke makes me cough. Ruined. I could cry! The tuiles are burned in one corner of the baking sheet and overcooked in another. I toss the tin on to the work surface with a clatter. I look at the flour, the butter and the few eggs I have left. I take a deep breath, the scent of the lavender I picked earlier cleansing the smell of my disaster.

Ralph is standing in the kitchen. ‘There’s only one thing I can do, boy!’ He pants at me. ‘Start again!’ This time I’d better get it right or my mission to cook my way through the book will be over before it’s begun. I have to get it right …

By the time I pull the third attempt, perfect golden tuiles this time, from the oven, made with the last of my ingredients, I haven’t taken my eye off them for a second. I’m hot and tired. But I’ve made biscuits with lavender. Tuiles! I lift one from the baking sheet and snap it in half. And then I can smell the lavender. I bite into it. It melts in my mouth and the lavender is floral, subtle. But the little I used was just right. I’m quite proud of them – no, I’m really proud.

I put them on a plate, one of the patterned ones I bought from Fabien at the brocante. Then I split them between two plates to show off the lovely pattern and even put a sprig of lavender across them for decoration. Now I need to deliver them.

NINE