A Wedding in Provence: From the #1 bestselling author of uplifting feel-good fiction

Alexandra got up as soon as she was awake the following morning. She wanted to be first up, to take control, and also to see Antoine before Véronique was around to make things difficult.

She had seen to the animals, ground coffee, got the range going, washed up any remaining glasses from the previous night, set the table and put all suitable breakfast food on it and yet still jumped when Antoine appeared in the kitchen. She took a quick breath. Usually, she was a confident person, not afraid of anyone, but in the presence of Antoine she felt like a small child who’d done something naughty.

‘Good morning! Would you like some coffee? Then I could make you scrambled eggs?’ Too late she remembered they were in France and he probably wanted a croissant or bread and butter. ‘I haven’t been to the boulangerie.’

He regarded her in that slightly amused, slightly bemused way that he had, the way that set off the butterflies that had been perched in her stomach, ready for flight, ever since she’d first met him. She took another breath, wondering if she should open the conversation about the party or if she should leave it to him.

And then Véronique came in. ‘Good morning! How are you, chéri?’ she asked Antoine. ‘Alexandra.’ She gave her a formal nod and then sat down at the table. ‘Oh, no croissants?’ She looked questioningly at Alexandra and then gave a little laugh. ‘Ah non! I dare say you are suffering from la gueule de bois.’

Alexandra laughed politely at this pleasantry, which wasn’t intended to be pleasant at all. ‘Pas du tout! I drank very little alcohol last night, and none at the party. I have no hangover.’

‘Would you like me to fetch fresh bread and croissants?’ asked Antoine.

Véronique shook her head. ‘No, no. I wouldn’t put you to the trouble. Milou!’ She pulled away from the dog who’d decided to get up from his place in front of the range to check if there was anything likely to fall from a breakfast plate. ‘You seem to get bigger and bigger! I’m sure you’d be far happier living in a kennel outside. And as for the cats—’

‘They are Stéphie’s,’ said Antoine. ‘They have grown a lot since we went away but are still very – kitten-like.’

‘Of course I adore animals!’ said Véronique. ‘But they should be kept outside the house.’

‘I could go to the bakery and maybe collect Stéphie at the same time,’ suggested Alexandra, who suddenly wanted an excuse to leave. ‘Although you’d have to wait a little while for breakfast.’

‘I’m sure you have quite enough to do,’ said Antoine with an easy smile. ‘I’m more than happy to pick up Stéphie.’

‘I’d love to come with you! Little Stéphie is so sweet!’ said Véronique. ‘And, Alexandra’ – she said her name as if it were an honour that she’d remembered it – ‘I slept very well in that bedroom so maybe if you take your things out of it, I can stay there.’

‘I’m afraid that’s not possible,’ said Alexandra, her smile just as polite and cold as Véronique’s had been. ‘I have all my Christmas presents in there as well as my clothes. It would be quite impossible for me to move out permanently. Or even until the end of the Christmas holiday.’

‘Surely it’s only good manners to suffer a little inconvenience for your guests?’

‘Of course, but we have been planning a very charming room for you at the other end of the chateau, where we normally put guests.’ Alexandra realised she was making a rather grand statement here but ploughed on with it. ‘Félicité has been decorating the room. Ah, here she is! And Henri.’

Never had Alexandra been more pleased to see Félicité and Henri, who now felt like dear friends. ‘You’ve put a lot of work into Véronique’s room, haven’t you, Félicité?’

Félicité, whose hair needed brushing, nodded and sat down. Henri sat down next to her. No one spoke. Alexandra hoped that they weren’t suffering from a gueule de bois. They may well have had more alcohol at the party than she knew about.

Antoine surveyed the table. ‘I think maybe I will have scrambled eggs, Alexandra. If they are still available?’

‘Of course.’ Alexandra found the pan she liked best for eggs and put a large lump of butter in it.

‘Of course they are available if you want them!’ said Véronique, clearly thinking Antoine was being far too diffident about making his wants known. ‘If English people can indeed cook eggs,’ she added with a smile implying that they definitely couldn’t.

‘Can I have some?’ asked Félicité, reaching out for bread. ‘Oh, it’s yesterday’s.’ She withdrew her hand.

‘We don’t eat yesterday’s bread in France, you know,’ Véronique explained kindly, as if it were possible that Alexandra didn’t know this.

‘Yes,’ said Alexandra, her teeth beginning to clench. ‘But I can’t go shopping and scramble eggs. Not at the same time.’

She sent mental messages to David to come and take over the eggs so she could escape to the boulangerie to buy baguettes and pain de campagne and possibly a pain au chocolat, which she would eat in the car. They’d have to think about other meals too. Without Véronique and Antoine to be considered they’d planned very simple things so that attention could be paid to the Christmas feast. Now everything was going to be harder work and a lot less fun. Not that she’d think this if only Antoine had arrived unexpectedly early, of course.

David and Jack came into the kitchen when everyone except Véronique, who preferred to nibble on stale bread rather than anything Alexandra had produced, were eating eggs.

‘So sorry I overslept,’ said David. He looked across at Alexandra. ‘But Alexandra’s scrambled eggs are better than mine, so you’ve done well.’

‘I might run out for bread,’ said Alexandra, getting to her feet.

‘I’ll go,’ said Jack. ‘I expect you’re needed here.’ Too late he caught her silent message that she needed to escape. ‘Although of course if you’d like to go—’

‘We will need to think about food,’ said David, who seemed to think of little else just at the moment.

‘I’m sure Antoine will tell you what he wants, David,’ said Véronique. ‘Could I have some more coffee?’ she went on, addressing Alexandra.

‘Although I’m more than happy to help,’ said David, suddenly very dignified, ‘I am here as the children’s tutor. Alexandra is their nanny. There seems to be some misunderstanding about our roles here.’ He gave Véronique his most charming smile. For someone who was usually so affable and easy-going, he could be devastating if he wanted to cut someone down to size.

‘I realise that our early appearance has upset your plans,’ said Antoine. ‘If you could give us a list, we can shop for you?’

‘Can I go with you to get Stéphie?’ asked Félicité. ‘There’s something I want to do in town.’

‘We’ll be busy when we go to town,’ said Véronique. ‘We won’t have time for you to catch up with friends.’

‘Oh, are you going with Antoine?’ asked Alexandra, who knew perfectly well that was Véronique’s plan. ‘I was hoping to settle you into your bedroom.’

‘Enough!’ said Antoine, getting up from the table. ‘I will go into town to collect my daughter. I will bring her siblings with me. Before I go I will see what needs to be bought for the household. Children? Can you please get ready to leave the house in five minutes.’

He stalked out of the kitchen, Milou and the kittens following, which made Alexandra want to giggle. Véronique did not want to giggle. She was obviously furious but couldn’t express it.

In the end Véronique got into the car while David was finishing the shopping list and Henri was finding his shoes.

Although Alexandra was annoyed that Véronique had gone against Antoine’s express wishes and appeared to get away with it, having her out of the house was a definite relief.

‘I can say this to you now she’s not here. I find Véronique sucks the joy out of everything,’ said Alexandra, gathering breakfast dishes.

‘She does,’ David agreed, filling an enamel bowl with boiling water. ‘But we won’t let her spoil our Christmas. There’s always a difficult guest you have to invite. It’s traditional.’

Alexandra laughed. ‘You always make me feel better about things.’

‘I’m so glad.’ He carried on washing dishes in silence for a few moments while Alexandra wiped the table and put away the detritus of breakfast. ‘Lexi?’ he asked.

‘Mm?’

‘Have you had a chance to look at the mural Félicité is painting in Véronique’s proposed bedroom?’

Alexandra’s heart sank a little. ‘No. Why?’

‘Well, I haven’t been in,’ said David. ‘But when I was passing and she’d left the door open I couldn’t help seeing …’

‘What?’

‘It’s a little bit – wild.’

‘Let’s go and look when we’ve finished here. I’m not giving Véronique my bedroom, I’m just not!’ she said. ‘Or is that silly?’

‘Let’s look at the room and then you can decide,’ said David.

‘Well,’ said Alexandra a few eye-opening minutes later, ‘it’s certainly vibrant.’

‘There wasn’t a huge range of colours when we went to buy the paint. But there were lots of different shades of green,’ David said.

‘So a jungle theme makes perfect sense. And that parrot is brilliant!’

‘Félicité copied it from an old book I got from the brocante. It’s a shame the mural isn’t finished.’

‘Well, she thought she had another two days!’ Alexandra was suddenly worried. ‘Will Véronique be OK in here?’

‘Yes, she will,’ said David firmly. ‘You need to be near the children and the animals. Our bathroom is bigger and tidier. Go and get her sheets. We’ll find a nice big jar and fill it with scented foliage and everything will be lovely.’

Alexandra squeezed his arm. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, David.’

‘You’d manage just fine,’ he said comfortingly.

Alexandra and David spent an hour making Véronique’s room as lovely as possible. Alexandra found some lace-edged pillowcases, and a cloth (which they suspected was really designed for altars) for the chest of drawers they’d turned into a dressing table. There was a china dressing-table set: little bowls, a tray for hair pins; they found candlesticks in a cupboard, washed and set them out too. They stayed there, ‘set dressing’ as David called it, until they started to get hungry.

‘Lunchtime,’ declared Alexandra and they set off back to the main part of the house.

Jack was in the hall. He was holding an envelope. ‘The postman has just been.’ He looked shocked, although he seemed to be holding an ordinary-looking Christmas card.

‘Bad news, old chap?’ asked David.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Jack. ‘Very unexpected news, that’s for sure.’

‘Let’s have lunch and you can tell us about it,’ said Alexandra, who didn’t want to be insensitive but didn’t want to stay in the hall forever. Antoine and the children might be back at any moment, not to mention Véronique.

She passed the two men and had soup heating up and bread and cheese on the table by the time they joined her. David loved making soup and there was always some on the go.

‘So what’s your news?’ Alexandra said gently after everyone had eaten a few mouthfuls, and had had a couple of sips of wine. ‘Unless you don’t want to tell me.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ said Jack. ‘The card is from my brother. He and his family are going to emigrate to Australia. They think I should go with them. We’ve always been very close – they’re the only family I’ve got really.’

Alexandra couldn’t help thinking of Penelope. How would she feel if Jack emigrated? Devastated, she was sure.

‘Will you go?’ she asked gently. ‘Although you probably need to think about it,’ she added, aware Jack hadn’t had time to make up his mind.

‘I don’t know,’ said Jack. He took a breath. ‘I don’t think I can. You both know how I feel about Penelope. Now I’ve found her again after losing her for all those years, I’m not going to risk losing her again.’

Alexandra put her hand on his arm. ‘Then talk to Penelope about it. I think you should ask—’ She stopped. ‘This is nothing to do with me.’

‘Ask Penelope what?’ said Jack.

‘To marry you!’ said Alexandra.

There was a shocked silence. It wasn’t what she’d intended to say. She was just going to say something vague like “see how she’d feel” but suddenly she felt it was time that Jack and Penelope stopped pussyfooting around. ‘Unless you don’t want to marry her, of course.’

Jack looked at her earnestly. ‘I do! I do want to marry her. But what can I offer her? I have a flat in London, but not in the best part. I could support us, but …’ He made a gesture that brushed against a vase of greenery and threatened to knock it over.

‘Just ask her!’ said Alexandra. One thing she was fairly sure of was that Penelope had her own money and wouldn’t refuse Jack because he didn’t have much of it. ‘If she loves you, she’ll say yes. And if she doesn’t, she’ll say no.’

‘Can I borrow your car, David?’ said Jack.

‘Won’t you finish lunch before you go?’ asked Alexandra as Jack took the keys David offered.

Jack shook his head. ‘I’ve wasted enough of my life being without her. Not a second more!’

‘So where are you going?’ asked David.

‘To propose, of course!’ Then Jack opened the front door and swung himself through it with great alacrity.

A few minutes after he’d gone, when Alexandra and David had gone back to their lunch, Alexandra said, ‘I meant when the time was right, not that he had to rush off immediately.’

David laughed. ‘You gave him the push he needed. He and Penelope could have a good life here, I think. It’s a nice town, lots going on.’

After they’d finished their soup and gone on to the cheese, Alexandra asked, ‘Could you have a good life here, David?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, I think I could. I could buy a van, buy stock here and take it over to the UK to sell and make a very nice profit.’

‘I know you were thinking of doing that,’ said Alexandra, ‘you told me.’ She paused. She really wanted the answer to a different question. ‘You said – I was wondering—’ She stopped. She had never asked David about his love life and he had never volunteered anything. It was an unspoken agreement that this was a forbidden topic. Now she felt she wanted to know.

‘You were wondering if, like Jack, I could find the love of my life?’ He took another slice of cheese and neither of them spoke while he ate it. ‘I think I could. In fact—’

‘Don’t tell me if you don’t want to!’ said Alexandra, thinking she may well have overstepped a line that had lain between them for years.

‘You’re being unusually tactful, Lexi. Usually you say what you think and ask any question you need the answer to.’

‘I know but – this is different.’ It was different. David’s romantic life would be illegal in England and he wouldn’t want to involve her in it.

‘I do appreciate your discretion, chicken, and there is someone here who I … like. Is that enough to be going on with?’

Alexandra smiled. ‘It’s plenty. Thank you so much for telling me.’

‘And while we’re telling each other things – is there anything you’d like to confide in me? The house is always full of people and even more so now it’s Christmas, so now might be our only chance.’

Alexandra sighed. ‘Well, I don’t suppose it’s any secret, to you anyway, that I’ve got a huge crush on Antoine. I know exactly how silly it is, how much of a cliché it is – honestly, it’s practically a direct copy of what happens in Jane Eyre, but I can’t help it. I know my crush will go away in time and I’ll end up marrying someone suitable, who isn’t older, who hasn’t got children and a rundown chateau—’

David laughed. ‘I don’t know when you last read Jane Eyre but I’m fairly sure Mr Rochester fell in love with the governess.’

Alexandra gave a little chuckle. ‘Antoine is not at all like Mr Rochester!’

‘And you’re not remotely like Jane Eyre, but I think we should check the attics for mad wives anyway, just in case.’

Now Alexandra was laughing too. ‘I don’t think we need to; we know who Antoine’s ex-wife is. And she’s not in the attic!’

‘How do we know he’s only got one? There may be a room full of bodies up there. “Anne, sister Anne!”’ he declaimed. ‘“Do you see anyone coming?’”

‘Like in Bluebeard?’ Alexandra was mildly hysterical now.

They’d taken things several stages further in which Alexandra was now Snow White, in love with all seven dwarves, when suddenly Véronique, the children hard on her heels, appeared in the kitchen.

‘You seem to be having a party all on your own,’ said Véronique, obviously wanting to object but unable to find a reason.

‘Not really,’ said Alexandra. ‘David just made a joke that appealed to me.’

‘Perhaps we could share it?’ asked Véronique.

‘Oh no,’ said David firmly. ‘Jokes never bear repeating. Have you had lunch?’

‘We went out for lunch,’ said Stéphie. ‘Maxime was there and he sent you his love.’ She rolled her eyes at this. ‘Where are the kittens? Oh, here you are.’

Véronique smiled. ‘Tell me, Stéphie. What is the name of the striped kitten? I know the white one is called Snowball.’

‘Margaret,’ said Stéphie instantly, although Alexandra had never heard her call the kitten that and was fairly sure no one else had either. Stéphie didn’t like to appear lost for an answer.

‘How charming,’ said Véronique.

‘Come up to my bedroom, Snowball, Margaret,’ Stéphie ordered, and raced out of the room, the kittens skittering after her.

Antoine appeared. ‘We must find out what sex those creatures are, before we find ourselves overrun with them.’

‘Would you like to see your room, Véronique?’ asked Alexandra.

Véronique winced slightly as if she wasn’t happy with Alexandra using her Christian name, although Alexandra had used the formal vous form as always.

‘I’m really very happy—’

Alexandra interrupted this oft-repeated assertion that Véronique was very happy in Alexandra’s room. ‘I’ve made your room very comfortable. Félicité? Come with me to show Véronique. Your mural is what is making the room so special.’

‘Really?’ Félicité obviously doubted this statement.

‘I think so,’ said Alexandra.

‘And so do I,’ David agreed. ‘Honestly, Véronique, you’re going to love what we’ve done with the room.’

‘Come along, everyone!’ said Alexandra briskly and set off, assuming people would follow. What she wasn’t expecting was that Antoine would come too. And as the party passed Stéphie’s door, she and the animals joined the procession.

‘Well!’ said Véronique after Alexandra had shown her into the room with a conjurer’s flourish.

‘Isn’t it amazing?’ said David. ‘Antoine, did you know your daughter had such artistic talent?’

‘No,’ said Antoine, impossible to read. ‘I didn’t.’

The jungle mural depicting vast trees in a mixture of several shades of green with vivid parrots and tropical flowers was very well done, but it did dominate the room, there was no denying. For a few moments Alexandra wondered if she would have to give in and let Véronique have her room, just to save arguments. But the room was larger than hers, with a beautiful view, and the bathroom was next door.

‘I don’t think I can sleep here,’ said Véronique. ‘That mural will give me nightmares.’

‘It wouldn’t give me nightmares!’ said Stéphie. ‘Look how pretty the dressing table is.’

‘The bathroom is next door,’ said David. ‘And you will have exclusive use of it. There’s another bathroom, further down the corridor, that Jack and I will use.’ He didn’t mention that this bathroom was small, draughty and quite a long way away, obviously designed for use by servants only.

Alexandra took a breath, wondering why she and David were bending over backwards to make Véronique comfortable when she was not remotely appreciative. But it was for Antoine: she wanted to make his life as easy as she possibly could.

‘I think you will be very comfortable here, Véronique,’ said Antoine. ‘And if your mother should change her mind and join us for Christmas, the room is easily big enough to share. We could find an extra bed.’

Alexandra caught the quick smile of apology he sent her and instantly forgave him everything.

‘There’s always room for one more in a chateau,’ said David after what seemed a rather long silence.

Everyone had set off back to the main part of the house when the front door opened. In came Jack and Penelope. They were laughing and Penelope’s chignon was beginning to come loose. They both looked young and silly and very, very happy.

‘What’s going on?’ said Antoine. ‘What have you two been getting up to?’

‘We’re engaged to be married!’ said Penelope.

‘She said yes,’ said Jack at the same time.

Just at that moment, they realised they were standing under a bunch of mistletoe and Jack gave Penelope a hearty kiss.

‘Grand-mère!’ said Stéphie. ‘I didn’t know you knew about kissing!’

‘Go into the salon, everyone, and I’ll call Henri,’ said Antoine firmly. ‘This situation requires champagne!’