The Cotswolds Cookery Club: A Taste of France

by Alice Ross

  It was the first time Kate had seen the woman without her trademark lacy white blouse.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘Nooooo,’ gasped Andrew.

  Propped up against the pillows in bed, he didn’t look much better than when Kate had left him – even with the mound of cuddly toys now covering his legs, courtesy of Mia and Milo.

  ‘I couldn’t believe it,’ giggled Kate. ‘And I didn’t know where to look when Frances, Jeremy and Domenique came into the kitchen later. All looking like butter wouldn’t melt. Apart from one of the buttons on Frances’s blouse being undone.’

  Andrew snorted with laughter. ‘Well, it just goes to show – you never know what goes on behind closed doors – even in the Cotswolds.’

  ‘Maybe that should be “especially” in the Cotswolds.’

  ‘You’re right. I bet there’s all kinds of stuff happening right under our noses: wife-swapping, gambling, topless burger vans…’

  ‘Bottomless curry houses, extortion rings.’

  ‘The place could be rife with scandal,’ he said, as Mia added a floppy octopus to the pile of toys.

  Kate laughed, before turning serious. ‘I must say, though, for all it’s a shocker, it’s also a massive relief.’

  ‘Relief?’

  She nodded. ‘I suspected Domenique was up to something. But I thought it might be with you.’

  Andrew’s eyes bulged. ‘You are joking?’

  ‘I’m not. There were too many coincidences. And you’d been seen together enough times to arouse suspicion among the cookery club. Plus, you always came home early on the evening of the cookery club…’

  ‘To help with the kids. So you wouldn’t be stressing about them when you were out.’

  ‘Oh. I thought it was to spend time with Domenique.’

  ‘Hardly. I can’t believe you thought there was anything going on between us.’

  Kate snagged her bottom lip between her teeth, before blurting out, ‘And then there were the two occasions you and she were away at the same time.’

  ‘That was pure coincidence. The first time.’

  A sweep of trepidation whooshed through Kate’s veins. ‘What about the second time? And the boarding card I found – from Nice?’

  Rather than looking mortified as she’d imagined, Andrew’s mouth stretched into a grin. ‘Aah. Therein lies a tale. And one I’d intended telling you about this weekend.’ He pulled himself up a shade further. ‘Domenique’s grandmother died in May and left a house to Domenique and her five cousins. Which, because of the number of people involved, they decided it would be simpler to sell and split the proceeds. Domenique came to me for advice on how to invest her share of the money and I asked her a few questions about the property. When she told me where it was – on the outskirts of Nice – it started me thinking.’

  Kate furrowed her brow. ‘About what?’

  ‘About us buying it, of course. From the pictures she showed me it looked amazing. But obviously I didn’t want to take things further without actually seeing it. So, I went out to Nice – just for a few hours. I was there and back in a day – the Saturday I told you I was on a team-building thing.’

  All of Kate’s trepidation was washed away by a flood of relief. ‘So you had been on the course in Edinburgh?’

  ‘Of course. How else could I have brought back plastic bloody bagpipes for the kids?’

  ‘You could have ordered them off the internet.’

  ‘Are you mad? Why on earth would I? And why on earth would I have an affair with the au pair?’

  ‘Er, because she’s young, sexy, gorgeous and completely in control. Whereas I am fat, middle-aged and so useless I can’t even get my act together to ring the dishwasher bloody repairman.’

  Andrew rolled his eyes as he reached for her hand. ‘Kate, you are the cleverest, sexiest, most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. And if you’ll stop talking nonsense for a minute, I want to tell you about this house. It really is fabulous. I totally fell in love with it. And you will too. But, because there are so many people involved in the sale – none of whom can agree on anything – it’s taken weeks to agree the price.’

  Kate’s jaw dropped. ‘But you can’t buy a house without even telling me.’

  ‘I haven’t bought it. I’ve just pushed things along to a stage where we could if we wanted to.’

  ‘But why didn’t you tell me before now?’

  ‘Because you had enough on your plate with the practice and the kids. I almost let something slip over our anniversary dinner, but, at that stage, I thought my most recent offer would be rejected and I couldn’t have gone any higher. Which would have meant raising your hopes for nothing. Thankfully, though, the offer was accepted.’

  Kate puffed out a breath as a cuddly Fred Flintstone flew past her ear. ‘God. That makes me feel completely crap. Like I’ve been so wrapped up in my own little bubble, you thought I couldn’t cope with anything else.’

  ‘I didn’t think that. You’ve been exhausted. And so have I. What with the kids and work – which has been horrendous lately – I’ve felt like I’ve been on a never-ending treadmill. One I’m frankly sick of. We’re both constantly chasing our tails and there never seems to be a spare minute. As evidenced by you not even finding one to phone the dishwasher bloody repairman.’

  ‘That’s because I need to be more organised.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s because we’re drowning in drudge. We need to climb out of it. Start a new life. In France. This house is perfect for us, which is why I want you to come out and look at it with me.’

  She gawped at him. ‘With a view to living out there?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Kate took a few seconds to assimilate the information, dozens of reasons why they couldn’t possibly emigrate marching into her head. ‘But the practice; your job…’

  ‘I hate my job. I want to do something completely different. And if you’re honest, your heart isn’t in the practice any more.’

  ‘That’s true. But what would we do for money? We’d need an income.’

  ‘The house comes with an old barn, which we could convert and run as holiday lets.’

  ‘But we don’t know anything about holiday lets.’

  ‘You’re a vet, for heaven’s sake. Somehow I don’t think running a couple of holiday apartments will be beyond you.’

  ‘And what about this house? And the Cotswolds? We love it here.’

  ‘I know. And I doubt we’d be over there for ever. So, to keep our options open, I think we should rent this place out. And you could rent out Mrs D’s house. Which would increase our income.’

  Kate ran a hand through her hair, her mind racing. ‘Oh God. I don’t know. I’d feel really bad. I’m sure Mrs D wanted me to do something exciting with it.’

  ‘Well, whatever you do with it, she’s not here to see now, is she? Which means you’re putting obstacles in the way when there really aren’t any. Will you at least come out to France and look at the house with me?’

  ‘Let me think about it,’ she replied. ‘But before I do, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you about the practice…’ She broke off, her gaze sliding to her hand still in his, her heart beginning to race a little faster. ‘It’s the new locum …’

  She lifted her eyes to him. With his dark hair sticking up all over the place, a shadow of stubble covering his broad jaw, dark smudges under his eyes and a sweaty sheen to his pale skin, he looked so ill her heart squeezed. She wanted to look after him. To make him better. To make them better. And she couldn’t do that until she’d been completely honest with him. ‘It’s Gregg. Gregg Swanson.’

  Andrew wrinkled his nose. ‘Who’s Gregg Swanson?’

  Kate cleared her throat. ‘My first proper boyfriend. The one I met in France. I told you about him years ago.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  Rather than looking furious, Andrew’s expression was one of bewilderment. ‘Wh
y didn’t you tell me before?’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I just thought you might not be very happy about it. But he was the best man for the job. And he’s doing brilliantly.’

  ‘Well, that’s fine then, isn’t it?’ Andrew asked, evidently having no idea what the fuss was all about. But of course he didn’t. He was a pragmatist – practical, level-headed. From his reaction to her suspicions about him and Domenique, he wouldn’t dream of cheating on her. Nor could he evidently imagine her cheating on him. He had faith in their relationship and trusted her implicitly. Just as she should have trusted him.

  ‘Unless, of course, you still fancy him,’ he added with a chuckle.

  Kate whipped up a cuddly dinosaur with her free hand and playfully thumped him on the arm. ‘Of course I don’t. Why would I when I have you?’

  ‘Er, because he’s probably not a grumpy old sod like me, with a spare tyre and the beginnings of a bald patch.’

  Kate squeezed his hand, a warm, fuzzy feeling overtaking her. ‘He isn’t. And he hasn’t. But I don’t love him, I love you.’

  And she knew now that, without a shadow of a doubt, she really did.

  With so many other things going on, Kate didn’t inform the children of the impending visit of their grandfather and Eleanor until the last possible moment. Which resulted – just as she’d expected – in almost as much excitement as Christmas. No sooner had the visitors made it through the door, negotiated their way to the living room and cleared a space on the sofa than Milo launched himself at Grandpa Nigel.

  ‘Look at you,’ Nigel chuckled. ‘You’re growing up far too quickly. How old are you now?’

  ‘Poo,’ replied Milo.

  ‘Two, darling,’ corrected Eleanor.

  ‘Er, I’m not sure that’s quite what he meant,’ said Kate, snatching up her son and whisking him out of the room.

  She returned a short while later with a tray of tea and biscuits, which she duly shared among the adults.

  ‘You’re both looking very well,’ she remarked, sitting back in her chair, cradling her cup.

  ‘We are,’ chuckled Eleanor. ‘Apart from a mosquito bite in an unmentionable place. But thankfully your father knows exactly what to do about these things. That’s the benefit of living with a retired GP.’

  ‘One of many, I hope,’ tittered Nigel.

  ‘One of hundreds,’ giggled Eleanor girlishly.

  Her mug poised before her mouth, Kate blinked. Blimey. The two of them were totally loved-up. ‘So, it sounds like you’re enjoying it out there then,’ she said.

  Nigel pulled a face. ‘It’s okay. Not quite what we thought it would be, if we’re honest.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Mmm. We’re thinking of giving the south of France a shot next.’

  Kate almost dropped her drink. ‘You’re joking. Andrew and I have just decided to do the same thing.’

  Her dad’s eyes grew wide. ‘What? With the children?’

  ‘No. We thought we’d leave them here. Allow them over when they’re fully house-trained and can do their own laundry.’

  Nigel chuckled. ‘Seriously, though? Are you really thinking about taking them out there?’

  Kate nodded. ‘Why not? It’d be a great experience for them. And they’d be bilingual in no time. Plus, a change will do me and Andrew the world of good. We’ve just been out there looking at a property. It’s perfect. And to be honest, now we’ve made the decision, I can’t wait to go.’

  ‘Goodness, that is exciting,’ puffed Eleanor.

  Kate beamed at her. ‘I know. And if you’re both going to be there too, it’ll be perfect. In fact, once we convert the old barn to apartments, you could live right next to us.’

  ‘Now there’s an idea,’ sniggered her dad. ‘What are you going to do about the practice?’

  ‘Sell it. I already have a buyer. One who will take really good care of it. Actually, you know him. It’s Gregg. Gregg Swanson.’

  ‘Your old boyfriend?’

  Kate nodded. ‘Yep. He’s recently moved back from Australia and was planning on working as a locum at various spots around the country until he decided on where to settle. He has, however, fallen in love with the Cotswolds, and half the Cotswolds appears to have fallen in love with him. Including Sarah the receptionist’s niece. She’s a yoga instructor and he’s just started going to her classes to stretch his muscles after his long runs. He seems ever so slightly smitten. And, according to Sarah, so does she.’

  ‘Well, I never. What a small world,’ remarked Nigel. ‘I always liked Gregg. Very decent sort. The practice will definitely be in good hands.’

  ‘It will. And it’s a weight off my mind, to be honest,’ said Kate. ‘I hadn’t known what to do with it. And regarding this house, we’re going to rent it out. Just in case things don’t go to plan, or we want to move back at any stage.’

  Nigel flopped back against the sofa cushions. ‘Well, you have given this some thought. And what about Mrs Dunlop’s property?’

  Kate blew out a breath and shook her head. ‘I don’t know. Apparently, according to her neighbour, she wanted me to come up with some wonderful, life-changing idea for it, but I haven’t. So, in the absence of any brainwaves, I’m going to rent that out too.’

  ‘Lots going on then,’ said Eleanor. ‘And there was us thinking we’d be knocking you for six with our news, when you’ve practically rendered us speechless with yours.’

  Kate beamed at them. ‘There you go then. Two big moving-to-France bulletins.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Eleanor. ‘That’s not our really big news.’

  ‘No,’ said Nigel. ‘The really big news is that we’re getting married.’

  The next three weeks passed in a blur for Kate – much of it involving paperwork and legalities relating to the various sales and purchases. She had no idea what had happened between Domenique and Jeremy, or Frances and the window cleaner, but, two weeks after Cecilia’s party, Domenique had announced she had “had enough of the bonkers English” and was heading off to Australia, packing her case and leaving the same day; Jeremy’s “tan” had faded significantly; and Frances’s windows looked a little grimy.

  The news of her dad and Eleanor’s wedding had come as a tremendous shock. But once she’d manoeuvred her head around it, Kate was delighted.

  ‘I was pretty nervous about telling you,’ her dad had confessed, when they’d been alone one evening. ‘I thought you might be a bit upset, it only being a couple of years since we lost your mum.’

  Kate had smiled. ‘I can’t say I wasn’t surprised, but it’s lovely news. I hated seeing you so miserable after Mum. And I know she’d have hated it too. You and Eleanor are so happy together. You’ve both been given another chance at love and I’m delighted you’re grasping it with both hands.’

  And, on the subject of hand-grasping, there’d been rather a lot of it in recent hours, it being the couple’s wedding day. It had been perfect, even the weather playing its part – the rainbow of red, yellow and orange tree leaves providing a glorious contrast to the dazzling cornflower-blue sky. Eleanor completed the picture – a stunning bride in a coffee-cream shift dress and matching jacket, a feathery fascinator in her hair and a huge smile on her face. Almost as huge as that on Nigel’s, which had only dipped once over the course of the day – when flower girl Mia had hit pageboy Milo over the head with her posy. Jemima, as chief bridesmaid, had settled them both down, before turning around and beaming at her mother. Kate was so relieved to see her oldest child happy again. She’d been delighted with her position of responsibility. And equally excited about the move to France.

  ‘I think we’ll all be happy over there, Mummy,’ she’d said.

  ‘Haven’t you been happy here, darling?’ Kate had asked.

  ‘Sort of. But I don’t think you have,’ Jemima had replied. ‘And I can’t be really happy if you aren’t.’

  At which point Kate had nearly cried.

>   Tears had also threatened when Eleanor had suggested Kate’s house as a potential venue for the wedding reception. The place was a tip – particularly since Domenique’s departure. Connie, however, had pointed out that there would need to be some serious decluttering anyway, before pictures were taken for the rental websites. So, in typical supportive fashion, the cookery club members had rolled up their sleeves and spent a week mucking out and creating some order. And order seemed to be being created in most people’s lives: Melody was there, looking radiant, with her husband and her bump; Trish was there, looking totally loved-up with her partner, Steve; and Connie was there with Max – not looking quite as content as her friends.

  ‘It’s lovely seeing everyone’s lives shaping up,’ Connie puffed, as she and Kate added strawberries to the wedding cake – a towering croquembouche dotted with chocolate and sugared almonds. ‘It seems everyone has plans apart from me. Eleanor hasn’t said as much, but I’m pretty sure she’ll want to sell the shop soon and I have no idea what I’ll do then.’

  ‘What would you like to do? In an ideal world?’

  Connie blew out a breath. ‘I know it sounds fanciful, but for years I’ve dreamed of owning a little bistro. Nothing flash. Just ten tables or so, covered in yellow-and-white-checked cloths, with a single yellow rose in a vase. Exactly like the one my parents took me to during my first trip to Italy.’

  Kate gawped at her. ‘That’s it!’

  ‘That’s what?’

  ‘That’s what I should do with Mrs Dunlop’s house. Turn it into a bistro. And, providing there’s no problem with planning permission and stuff, you could run it.’

  Connie gaped. ‘Are you serious? Because if you are, I’d like to go one better. I’d love to buy into it. I’ve been saving like mad and, because I’ve been living rent-free, I’ve managed to put away quite a bit.’