A division of HarperCollins Publishers
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Harper Impulse
an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2018
Copyright © Lorraine Wilson 2018
Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers 2018
Cover illustration © Shutterstock.com
Lorraine Wilson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
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.
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.
Source ISBN: 9780008285289
Ebook Edition © April 2018 ISBN: 9780007544080
Version: 2018-03-19
This is for Holly, aka Squeakerdog, who sadly died while I was writing this book. It’s also for her best doggy friend Poppy, my first ever rescue mutt.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page A division of HarperCollins Publishers www.harpercollins.co.uk
Copyright Harper Impulse an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2018 Copyright © Lorraine Wilson 2018 Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers 2018 Cover illustration © Shutterstock.com Lorraine Wilson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. 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. 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. Source ISBN: 9780008285289 Ebook Edition © April 2018 ISBN: 9780007544080 Version: 2018-03-19
Dedication This is for Holly, aka Squeakerdog, who sadly died while I was writing this book. It’s also for her best doggy friend Poppy, my first ever rescue mutt.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
‘Only Dogs and Donkeys’ by Peanut the Chihuahua and Poppy Kirkbride
Acknowledgements
About the Author
About HarperImpulse
Daydream Designs – Poppy’s Blog
‘My Place in the Sun’
So, it’s official. No more watching A Place in the Sun and wishing it were me. Tomorrow it will be me – I’ve found my place in the sun and I’ll be making the last leg of the long drive to Saint-Quentin-sur-Aude. It’s a smallish village in the Languedoc, a region in Occitanie in the South of France. It’s Provence’s lesser known neighbour and as a result it’s not as posh, it’s not pretentious and, thankfully, it’s not too pricey. I’ve only had to empty my bank account, not sell my soul to gain a piece of it. According to Vogue, it’s the “true South of France – and one of the country’s best kept secrets”. Having toured Provence and the Cote D’Azur I can say the region of Occitanie is every bit as gorgeous, with chateaus, picturesque hilltop villages and vineyards stretching all the way across to sandy beaches and the sparkling Mediterranean Sea.
Imagine a kaleidoscope patchwork of sunflower fields and vineyards, bustling markets brimming with fresh local produce and wall-to-wall glorious sunshine – then you’ll get the picture. What’s not to like?
Soon you won’t need to imagine anyway; I’ll post my journal sketches on the blog. I fell in love with the area last summer. Listening to the audiobook of Kate Mosse’s Labyrinth as my other half and I walked along the cobbled streets of the medieval city of Carcassonne, Cathar country resonated with me on a deep level. I might be English, but my great grandmother was French, so perhaps something is calling me back, telling me this is my true home. Who knows? Sorry, didn’t mean to get all philosophical on you ;-)
I’m torn between selling the destination to you, my lovely blog followers, and also trying to keep it to myself. Although, the Vogue article may have made that last option impossible.
Today I’m off to the Notaire’s office to sign away my sanity, a.k.a. put my signature to the forms making me the owner of an old ‘Mas’, a farmhouse on the outskirts of the village. At least that’s how my parents view my plans.
I’m not having any doubts though; this has been my dream forever. Maybe moving from a city ground floor flat with tiny garden to a house with lots of outbuildings and land should daunt me. God knows there will be tonnes of work ahead to get it earning an income as tourist accommodation. Thankfully I’ve got my other half Pete joining me once he’s worked out his notice period. He’s pretty handy when it comes to DIY, amongst other things ;-)
I hope you like the watercolour sketch of my little red Mini laden with my most important worldly belongings, and with Peanut, Treacle and Pickwick hanging out from the front windows. Naturally they were first on the list to be packed! The dogs practically burst with excitement when I began to fill the car. Pickwick almost wore out his squeaky woof!
I’ll be writing my next blog post when I’m in my new home. Think of me sitting outside in the sunshine with a glass of wine, painting my next Fenella Fairy illustration while the dogs explore their new garden.
Wish me luck :-)
Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.
Anais Nin
“So, your boyfriend, he is not here in France with you?” Jacques, the notaire, opens the door for me and places a hand on my back as he sees me out of his office into the corridor. He’s the official who has been handling my house purchase, and he’s been noticeably friendlier in Pete’s absence.
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