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

It was a beautiful Christmas morning. There was mist and although there was also sunshine, it was bitingly cold. Alexandra walked with David and Félicité while Stéphie and Henri ran with Milou and the kittens (who had no intention of being left out). Antoine and Véronique were a little way away from the others and seemed to be talking earnestly.

Everyone’s breath was visible and soon Félicité joined her younger siblings, forgetting her dignity so she could run around and keep warm. They went to a favourite tree on the edge of the forest and climbed it. The kittens chased them and Milou stood at the bottom looking up at them, irritated and disdainful.

‘He seems to be saying, “I could climb up with you, if I wanted to,”’ said Alexandra to David.

‘And so could I!’ said David. ‘In fact, I definitely would, only I need to get back to put the turkey in the oven.’

‘I thought it was traditional to put the turkey in at dawn,’ said Alexandra.

‘It’s also traditional for the turkey to be overcooked and the vegetables like mush. The joy of this Christmas is that we can make our own traditions, ones that are a lot easier to endure.’

‘Come on then, I’ll race you back!’

The children, seeing Alexandra and David running back to the chateau, soon followed. When Antoine and Véronique finally arrived, the Christmas presents were arranged in the salon, Alexandra had put on a dress with her Chanel jacket and her big pearls and everyone had enjoyed at least two chocolates from the box David had hidden in the kitchen. Alexandra and David had enjoyed a quick glass of champagne too, and everyone was rather giggly.

By contrast, Antoine and Véronique were sombre. Véronique went upstairs after lunch, presumably to her jungle-painted bedroom, and didn’t return for a little while. She joined the party in the salon (warmer now the fire had been lit for a little while) wearing a very elegant outfit and a fur jacket. She perched on the edge of the sofa and watched the charade that was being acted out in front of her. The team was led by Antoine and consisted of his three children and Milou, who didn’t understand the concept of acting at all.

‘The English,’ she said after a little while. ‘I think they are mad.’

Alexandra and David shared a look and then, as one, they got up and retreated to the kitchen. Here they peeled and prepared, chopped and sliced, making stuffing, sauces, sipping red wine and nibbling as they worked.

So engrossed were they that when the doorbell jangled, and Milou woofed, they were surprised. But their guests had arrived, seemingly all at the same time.

First came Penelope and Jack, Penelope looking radiant and Jack very proud of the woman on his arm, whose eyes sparkled and whose cheeks were gently flushed. With them was Lucinda, elegant but chilly, pleased to see her children but in a restrained way that didn’t allow her hair or her dress and jacket to be disturbed, followed by Maxime who was also on top form, and looked handsomer than ever. Everyone was welcomed and ushered through to the salon where it was now quite warm, thanks to the tree trunk burning in the hearth.

The plan was for those who had presents to open to do that before the meal. This was partly so David could have extra time if he needed it to make sure the potatoes were brown and that there was enough gravy. The turkey was reposing under a pile of towels, already perfectly cooked, waiting to be carried through to the dining room.

Alexandra and David were summoned from the kitchen, Alexandra still in her apron. The demand to open presents was too urgent to be ignored.

Antoine and Véronique had presents for the children, although they’d had their presents from Penelope and Lucinda the day before. Alexandra, David and Jack had decided to stick to the twenty-fifth for present-giving, even though this caused a bit of eye-rolling from certain quarters.

Alexandra had bought Antoine a bottle of cognac and a box of chocolates and gave Véronique a handkerchief case she had bought from a woman in the market. It was edged with handmade lace and very beautiful. It was a bit of a wrench to give it away. In exchange Véronique and Antoine gave Alexandra a rather grand bath set involving soap, bath salts and talcum powder.

Alexandra’s charges were delighted with their presents. These were a very nice set of watercolours for Félicité, the music for a current pop song and a harmonica for Henri, and an antique model stable, including several charming horses, for Stéphie. As Lucinda, as usual, had ignored Stéphie’s existence, Alexandra felt it was important that she had something a bit more special than her siblings.

At last all the present-opening was over, and David marshalled everyone into the dining room. Jack and Maxime were very helpful getting people organised, while Alexandra and Lucinda brought in the vegetables. The turkey, as golden and full-breasted as it was possible to be, was brought in by David and Antoine together, and placed at the head of the table so Antoine could carve.

The meal was very successful. Even Véronique and Lucinda were impressed, who both had reason to wish the food to be disappointing. But the turkey was moist, the stuffings different from what were commonly eaten in France, and even the bread sauce, new to many, was reluctantly declared delicious.

The desserts were a mixture of traditional French and English, including a very rich büche de Noël, as chocolatey as anyone could wish and decorated with robins, and a Christmas pudding served with brandy butter. Maxime declared he was happy to eat only the brandy butter, it was so delicious.

It was a very merry occasion, but Alexandra felt relieved when it was over and people started to take their leave. Jack went to pack: he was going to England to see his brother and family, partly to tell them about Penelope and his wedding plans. David was also going back to England for a week or so, and Véronique, it transpired, although Alexandra suspected it wasn’t what she’d originally planned, was taking the train to Paris in the morning.

While the clearing up was going on David took the opportunity to check on Alexandra’s feelings. ‘Now, you know I’ll be away for about ten days but if it all gets too difficult, I could come back.’

‘It won’t be difficult! It’ll be fine!’ She said this so convincingly she was proud of herself.

‘You’ll be alone with Antoine, with only the children as chaperones.’

‘Well, don’t tell anyone, will you?’

‘Hmm,’ said David.

‘Really! Antoine asked me if I wanted time off. In fact he tried to insist I had it, but I didn’t want to go anywhere.’ She paused. ‘Although I’ll have to go when the children go to school, obviously.’

‘Has it been decided when that should be?’

‘I’m not sure. I think money is involved. Lucinda is prepared to pay for the older two to go to boarding school in England, but Antoine wants the three of them to stay together here in France. And if that happens, then he’ll have to pay.’

‘It really would make life easier if you and Antoine got married!’ David was teasing and Alexandra didn’t take offence.

‘I know!’ said Alexandra. ‘But Antoine is never going to ask me, is he?’

David nodded. ‘Unlikely. Pity, really. Now, you must promise me you’ll fry the leftover Christmas pudding in butter tomorrow?’

‘All right.’

‘And you’ll be OK doing all the meals without me?’

Alexandra smiled. ‘I managed when I first arrived; now I’ve got all these leftovers: turkey, ham, pâté, cheese, all sorts of delicious things. We won’t starve even if I don’t cook a thing!’

‘I’m still annoyed I couldn’t get us any Stilton. The French are very narrow-minded when it comes to cheese.’

Alexandra giggled. ‘I know! They resolutely stick to their own hundreds of kinds and never open their minds to anything different.’

‘It’s the same with the bread,’ said David. ‘They insist on their long pointy loaves, or round crusty ones, and seem to ignore proper square white slices!’

‘Which are what you want for real turkey sandwiches,’ said Alexandra.

‘It certainly saves all that slicing!’ Then David stopped laughing, obviously still concerned. ‘You really will be all right?’

‘Of course! I’m not a bad cook even if I’m not nearly as good as you are and my speciality is meals made from leftovers.’

‘You talk a good game, Lexi,’ said David. ‘But I’m still worried.’

At that moment, Antoine came in with a tray full of glasses. ‘What are you worried about, David?’

‘He’s worried about me doing the cooking again. Quite unnecessarily. I cook perfectly well.’

‘I will be cooking while you are away, David,’ said Antoine, suddenly every inch the Comte. ‘Alexandra can’t have the time off she is entitled to, but at least I can take over her duties.’

Alexandra looked at him, open-mouthed. He put down his tray and then closed her mouth by lifting her chin with his finger. ‘Don’t be so astonished. I’m a very good cook.’

‘I’m sure—’ Alexandra began.

‘In France, we doubt that the English can cook,’ Antoine went on. ‘It seems you doubt that Frenchmen can.’

Alexandra had had time to recover her aplomb. ‘I’ve just had no evidence of it so far,’ she said.

Antoine’s eyes narrowed. ‘You have a way of being insolent without being rude. Is it an English thing? Or one of your special skills, Alexandra?’

‘Oh, it’s special to her, believe me,’ said David.

Aware suddenly of how intently Antoine was looking at her, Alexandra took the opportunity to fetch another trayful of dirty dishes.