Daisy's French Farmhouse, page 1
Daisy’s French Farmhouse
Lorraine Wilson
One More Chapter
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2022
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Copyright © Lorraine Wilson 2022
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Cover design by Lucy Bennett © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2022
Cover photographs: Navinpeep/Getty Images (main image) and Shutterstock.com (trees, building and leaves)
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Lorraine Wilson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
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Source ISBN: 9780008363147
Ebook Edition © May 2022 ISBN: 9780008363130
Version: 2022-05-04
Contents
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Thank you for reading…
We think you will love…
Also by Lorraine Wilson
About the Author
One More Chapter...
About the Publisher
For the friends who helped to encourage and inspire me during the writing of this book – John Prentice, Kate and Bernie.
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Also for the real and very much missed Squeaker and Pickle – may your tails continue to wag within the pages of this book and your memories live on.
Author’s Note
If you’re new to the French Escape series or simply need a reminder, here’s a who’s who of the main characters, both human and canine to refresh your memory.
Humans
Daisy – a new arrival in St Quentin sur Aude seeking a fresh start in France. Friend of Poppy’s. Has an unusual talent she tends to keep quiet and is an incurable romantic, though she is, ironically, trying to cure herself of that.
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Anton – antiquarian bookshop owner and expert appraiser. Local widower. Writing a history of the area’s folklore. Has a sexy-professor vibe going on but is completely unaware of it.
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Poppy – children’s book illustrator, artist, and owner of the farmhouse now converted into a guesthouse, Les Coquelicots, in St Quentin sur Aude. A little scatty but has a very big heart. Lives with her husband, Leo, in his nearby barn conversion.
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Leo – husband of Poppy, heir to the Dubois estate including the chateau and the vineyards. Veterinary surgeon and partner in the local practice. Adores Poppy and her entourage of tiny dogs.
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JoJo – runaway ex-reality star now living her French dream, browsing the markets and catering for guesthouse visitors as she puts the past behind her. Girlfriend of celebrity chef Cal.
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Cal – celebrity chef splitting his time between France and London. Boyfriend of JoJo. More passionate about food than about being a celebrity.
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Mme Dubois – mother of Leo; lives at the Chateau St Quentin. Mayor of St Quentin sur Aude. Always dressed immaculately and secretly wishes her daughter-in-law would spend more time thinking about babies than rescue dogs.
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M Dubois – husband of Mme Dubois, father of Leo. Also residing at the Chateau St Quentin. Art collector who’s very fond of his new daughter-in-law.
Dogs
Peanut – tiny chihuahua and smallest of all the dogs in St Quentin, but probably the bossiest. Rescued by Poppy. Likes disco dancing, particularly to ABBA, but also has a fondness for reggae. According to Poppy she is part meerkat, part baby kangaroo, part fruit bat and part dog, but one hundred per cent loved. Oh, and quite as nutty as her name suggests.
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Treacle – slightly timid chihuahua who is as sweet as his name suggests. Friend of Peanut and also rescued by Poppy. Loves cuddles once he gets to know you and has been slowly discovering his inner chihuahua cheekiness since his rescue from an abusive home.
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Pickwick – miniature Yorkie with quite a lot to say for himself. Inherited by Poppy from her grandmother. Loves cuddles, sticking his tongue out, and doesn’t let his crooked little legs stop him from bouncing around the garden like a baby lamb, chasing balls, sticks, or anything anyone has been foolish enough to throw for him.
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Flump – chihuatriever (chihuahua-golden-retriever cross). Also rescued as a puppy by JoJo. Full of character. Kleptomaniac mischief-maker with the mysterious ability to open closed doors. Loveable canine rogue and loyal friend to canines and humans alike.
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Barney – blind ex-hunting-dog, rescued from euthanasia by Poppy and living out a very comfortable retirement in the farmhouse. Part hearth-rug, part griffon, part beagle. Extremely happy and unfazed by his disability.
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Maxi – Pyrenean Mountain dog belonging to Leo. Very sensible and well behaved except when Peanut, whom he adores, is around, when he will roll about like a puppy and do his best to impress her.
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Pickle – depressed cairn terrier cross belonging to Anton. Grieving the loss of his mistress when we first meet him. Likes to take objects and hide them. A real water baby. Enjoys swimming so much that getting him out of a river or lake is a challenge.
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Squeaker – Mixed terrier of unknown parentage. Also belonging to Anton. Still very young and puppyish. Lives with Pickle but was a tiny pup when their mistress died.
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Molly – a papillon dog who seems to believe she is part cat. Likes her independence and refuses to cooperate where baths or getting wet are in any way concerned.
Chapter One
“To love is to be vulnerable.”
C. S. Lewis
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FROM: Daisy
TO: Poppy
SUBJECT: Urgent!!!
Hi Poppy,
I don’t suppose you need an extra pair of hands at the guesthouse this summer do you? I’m cheap to keep, I promise, and I really, really need to get away. Not in a ‘I’ve just robbed a bank and I’m fleeing the country’ kind of way but an ‘I’ve humiliated myself and urgently need a change of scene’ way. I don’t suppose there’s any way we can just leave it at that is there?
No, I didn’t think so!
Well... you know how you kept telling me to be brave and seize the day and how I’d regret it if I never found out if Scott felt the same way as me? So I did it. I made the grand gesture, the symbolic race to the airport, the kind of act that’s always rewarded in romcoms with the object of the heroine’s desire.
I didn’t quite chase him to the airport, but I did leave my post at the hotel reception desk and sort of chased him to catch up with him as he was leaving the hotel. My skin is prickling with horror at the thought of it but in my defence, he has a really long stride! I’m not entirely sure what came over me, but he’d said goodbye and given me one of those lingering looks I was telling you about and had turned to go. I was watching him leave the reception desk when I suddenly felt I couldn’t bear to let another wasted opportunity go by so I raced after... ahem, I mean I followed swiftly to catch him up.
He seemed lovely, surprised but pleased. I think he was genuinely happy when I asked him out. He said ‘yes’ after all. He said he’d meet me later that evening for a drink. So far so good. Then we might have, erm, indulged in some very unprofessional behaviour on my part, given I was still on my work shift. Not that unprofessional, before your imagination goes into overdrive! Still, it was bad enough to have got me into serious trouble if my boss had seen. I wasn’t that unlucky but unfortunately it was witnessed by one of my colleagues. You remember me telling you about Becca? She was coming into work to take over for the night shift and she’s always been angling for my job. I could never understand why she hated me so much until someone told me that she’d interviewed for my position as head receptionist and failed to get the job.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, I then subsequently found out that he’s married. Seriously, after all these months of flirting, waiting to walk me to the tube station when my shift was over, opening up to me, asking my opinion about things… I feel so naïve! I mean, I’ve had married men hit on me before at work but this felt different. It was different. There was this intense connection whenever we locked eyes – you know, that sensation of the world around you fading out because of the intensity of the moment. I know I’ve always been a bit of a romantic but it felt like the real deal.
Obviously I had checked his hand to see if he was wearing a wedding ring, and no, he never did. Some men don’t I suppose, or maybe he lost it, but the point is I feel like I don’t know if I can trust my intuition any more. I followed it, possibly put my job at risk given that sleeping with the hotel clients is a definite no-no, and for what? For a man who wasn’t what I thought he was.
Plus I’ve got the whole incident looming over me now. I’ll just be waiting for Becca to start the rumours, or maybe even go direct to Gina, my boss. Angie, the other receptionist who I’m friendly with, knows and I’m sure I can trust her but I think it’s only a matter of time before what I did gets out and it’s far better to jump before I’m pushed.
So… I need to get away. This was only ever meant to be a temporary job but I got comfortable and coasted. Also, and this is embarrassing to admit, but I really don’t want to see Scott again. Married or not I think he does have some feelings for me and I’m concerned he might wear me down with his charm. He never actually said he was single and I was the one who asked him out. All he’s really guilty of is flirting when he wasn’t in a position to do so. I do feel strongly that I would never want to have an affair with a married man but given there’s a strong sexual attraction between us, I’m concerned my resolve might weaken if he turns on the charm. It’s best to put temptation out of reach. Way out of reach. Which gets me to the point of my rambling email (sorry!).
I was hoping that maybe I could come and stay with you in France for a bit? You’ve been saying how busy you are since the chateau art gallery and The Barn restaurant opened on top of all the usual guesthouse work. You wouldn’t have to pay me – I’d be happy to work in return for bed and board. I promise not to bore on about Scott either. Coming to France would be a chance to put it all behind me, maybe even find a new direction in life. Like I said, the hotel reception work was only ever supposed to be a temp job until I found something better. Then I got the promotion and it was too easy to stay where I was comfortable. Maybe this could all work out well for me if I can turn this into something positive? From now on no more moping over a man. No more unrequited love. I need to get myself sorted out first and work out what I really want in life.
And you have my permission to slap me if I fall for someone unavailable again!
What do you think?
Love from Daisy
xx
FROM: Daisy
TO: Poppy
SUBJECT: You’re a total star!
Thanks Poppy, I really appreciate this.
Is this where I admit I’ve already handed my notice in at the hotel? I’ve even found someone who wants to rent my room in the flat-share. There’s someone I met who’s working at a café near work – she’s Australian and wants somewhere decent to stay for the summer, before she moves on with her travels. She’s sleeping on someone’s sofa at the moment so is keen to move in asap. My flatmate, Vicky, is fine with it as long as my half of the rent still gets paid so it’s all worked out perfectly.
JoJo sounds lovely. I can’t believe you live with an actual real-life celebrity! I love the sound of the barn you’re converting into gîtes. I’m sorry you’ve had builder hassles but it’s good luck for me that it’s not going to be ready for guests this season so I have somewhere to stay that won’t mean you losing out on any rental income. I’m fairly good with a paint brush if you want me to help out with the decorating.
I can’t wait to meet the new additions to the St Quentin muttley crew and to see Peanut, Treacle, and Pickwick again. I bet they’re loving life in the country. I’ve seen Peanut’s disco dancing on YouTube – she’s a natural born star!
I’ve been giving some serious thought to what I could do in France if I stayed longer than just the summer. It seems that setting up my own business might be the way to go and I was wondering, do you think there’s a market for pet sitting or dog walking? I’ve so missed not being able to own a dog because of my long hours, not to mention the leasehold conditions regarding pets. When I was growing up our family was never without at least one or two dogs, plus our very own grumpy cat before grumpy cats became a social media phenomenon.
Anyway, thanks a million for being my Escape Plan. Oops, make that my New Dream Life Plan obvs! Running towards, not away from, lol.
See you soon.
Love and hugs to the fur babies,
xx
FROM: Daisy
TO: Gran
SUBJECT: Changes
Hi Gran,
I hope this email reaches you okay. I know you said there’d be no way of contacting you at the ashram but that if you could get to an Internet cafe you would. How is the ashram? I can’t wait to hear all your news.
So, anyway, here’s my news: I’ve left my job at the hotel and I’m moving to France. Well, maybe moving to France. I’m going for the summer at least and then we’ll see.
I’m staying with my friend Poppy, the artist – do you remember her? She’s married now and has this beautiful guesthouse she renovated from an old farmhouse.
The catalyst for the change is not so good. Something embarrassing happened with that guy Scott I told you about – you know, the guest who stayed at the hotel regularly and was always really flirty, chatting to me for ages. The one I’d felt such a connection with.
Honestly I’m so confused, Gran. You always said to trust my intuition and I had such a strong sense of connection with him. I told you when we locked eyes there was this sense of knowing each other already? Which is why I’m so confused because in this case my intuition was leading me astray. I listened to my instincts and got myself into a mess.
One day, when he was checking out of the hotel, I decided to try to take things further – all the lingering looks and accidental hand brushes were driving me to distraction. So I hurried after him, deciding to take the plunge and ask him out. He said yes and it was all going great except when he managed to get his watch caught in my hair. Don’t ask why that happened – you probably don’t want to know! It was when I was disentangling it that I touched the watch and had one of those odd experiences we used to talk about.
As soon as I touched the watch I knew his wife had given it to him, that despite his not wearing a wedding ring he was married. I haven’t had an experience like that for a while and blurting out that I knew he was married didn’t exactly go down well. Obviously I couldn’t explain how I knew and I think he thought maybe I was trying to honeytrap him or something. It was all horribly awkward and there was no chance to try to talk things out because at that very moment one of my colleagues, who happens to want my job, walked past us into the hotel, sneering at me and making it very obvious she’d seen the whole thing.
