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’m not coming. I’m not going back,’ I say. I can’t go back to where we came from. Not the house or the job, but us. I can’t go back to feeling how I did before we came here. Ollie had moved on very quickly at the end of our IVF treatment. He bought Ralph for me, let him sleep on the bed and decided we should move to France. I can’t go back to the unhappiness and the loneliness I felt in our marriage.

‘Don’t be ridiculous! The van’s all packed up! They’re just about to leave! Of course we’re going!’

I take a deep breath. ‘I’m not, Ollie. We have to be honest with ourselves. Our marriage wasn’t working in the UK, it didn’t work out here and it won’t work back there, because neither of us wants to be in it any more.’

He doesn’t argue. I think about the ladies we meet at quiz night who love Ollie and how long it might have been before he gave in to their charms, blaming it on our ‘problems’ … like last time: just the once, he said, back ‘home’. Home isn’t there for me. I don’t know where it is, but it’s not back where we came from in a rented house with Ollie.

‘Look, Del, I don’t know what this is about. We agreed it wasn’t working for us out here and that we’d move home.’

‘We agreed it wasn’t working for us,’ I say.

He breathes out, exasperated. ‘We’re going to miss the ferry if you don’t get a move on. I have to drop the keys with the estate agent before we go.’

I hear the banging of truck doors, the engine starting up. And then a crunching on gravel as it starts to edge forward from under the trees. There’s a beep. Ollie and I step outside. Lexie is at the wheel, sticks an arm out of the window and waves.

‘See you in Blighty!’ calls Mr Broderick, from the other window, and they begin down the drive.

‘They’re leaving! We have to go!’ says Ollie, frustrated and angry. The wind whips up around us.

I could stop the truck, tell them to unpack it, that I’m not leaving. But I watch it go, my old life driving off down the lane.

Call it some kind of mistral madness, early menopause, bereavement, all the things I’m feeling, but suddenly a weight lifts off my shoulders as my past disappears down the lane.