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Back Escape to the French Farmhouse Save as PDF
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

With one hand, Henri pushes back his silver-grey hair, which has come loose from its ponytail, and lifts the biscuit to his nose with the other. He smells it. I watch his face. The little silver beard beneath his lower lip twitches. Then he breaks it in two and nods, clearly impressed. Now all he has to do is taste it. I watch as he lifts one half of the biscuit towards his mouth. I hope I’m not making a complete fool of myself here. Maybe I am. Maybe he’s laughing at me. ‘Brave’, Cora had said. Did she really mean ‘stupid’? Maybe she was right. Henri opens his mouth, and I have an overwhelming urge to grab the biscuit from him and say, ‘Don’t bother,’ but I watch and cringe.

At a shout from behind me, then another and a bark, I swing round. Henri spins round to look in the direction of a commotion.

TWELVE

A boy in a hoodie has grabbed a handful of biscuits from my stall while my back was turned. He dodges nimbly in and out of the people there. Someone is shouting, ‘Stop him!’

‘Hey!’ I yell. Ralph jumps up, thrilled with the new game, and leaps after the boy. The chair he’s tied to catches around the leg of the table, then table and chair shift across the cobbled street as Ralph chases his new playmate. Macarons fly from the table, like marbles bouncing over the cobbles, rolling under people’s feet. Ralph leaps for the lad, who jumps, dropping something from his pocket, then swiftly sidesteps my dog and is gone through the square and into the shadows of the dark little streets beyond.

A leg of the table is broken, the macarons strewn everywhere. Ralph is panting and smiling. Cora and her two friends, no doubt on their way back from coffee, are aghast.

‘Terrible! Someone needs to do something about that,’ says Cora. ‘It’s affecting the whole town. Are you okay?’ she asks.

I put my hand to the money belt Fabien lent me before he left me this morning. The money I made is still safe. I peer at the debris on the ground. I still have a box of shortbread in my hand. It’s just the macarons that bit the dust and Ralph is busy hoovering them up. A passing chihuahua attempts to join in but is persuaded away by its owner tutting. I nod to her and smile.

‘I saw exactly where he went. Got a look at his face too!’ says Cora, pointing a painted nail. ‘I’ll watch the dog while you go after him!’ She tries to grab Ralph’s lead, still attached to the chair and the broken table leg, then reels backwards when Ralph leaps up in excitement.

There’s a hand on my shoulder. I turn to see Henri beside me.