The True Love Travels Series Box Set

by Poppy Pennington-Smith

  “If we reopened for bookings...”

  “No one will book a wedding here, Annie. Not looking like this.”

  Annie breathed in through her nose and tried to slow her thoughts down; there had to be a solution.

  “Annie, I’m glad you’re here. So glad. Because...” GiGi paused and breathed out sharply, as if she was preparing herself to say something that Annie wouldn’t want to hear. “I have decided to sell the chateau.”

  Annie blinked hard. She felt her mouth open and close but she couldn’t make any words come out.

  “I know it’s a horrible idea. But I think the time has come...”

  “But the chateau has been in your family for generations, GiGi. You can’t just give up!” Annie felt tears springing to her eyes as she realised that if someone else owned the chateau, her childhood memories, and her grandmother’s memories, would be gone.

  “Annie...” GiGi spoke slowly, tentatively. “I promise you my love, that I am not giving up. I just don’t see any other way.”

  “Okay,” Annie said, sniffing. “Okay. Well, why don’t you let me look at the figures? I’m good at this kind of thing, GiGi. If there’s a solution, I’ll find it.” She smiled, hopefully.

  Her grandmother smiled back, but it was a resigned sigh. “Alright, Annie. You can look. But–”

  “Ah!” Annie said, imitating Sebastian and raising her hand. “Let’s just wait and see what I find. Okay?”

  “Okay. But, tomorrow, yes? Today I want to enjoy my granddaughter.”

  Annie smiled. “Okay, tomorrow it is.”

  After lunch, Annie and her grandmother spent the afternoon drinking iced tea and playing canasta on the terrace. But at three p.m., with the sun shining fiercely down on the top of their parasol, GiGi suggested they go inside for a siesta.

  “Afternoon naps are highly underrated by the English,” she said gently, taking Annie’s arm as they went back inside.

  “Unfortunately, we don’t have the weather you do, so they’re not really necessary,” Annie replied, although after her early flight, a short late-afternoon sleep was extremely tempting.

  At the top of the stairs, GiGi gestured towards Annie’s old bedroom. “You can sleep in your old room or in one of the guest rooms. It’s your choice, my dear.”

  Annie nodded and kissed her grandmother on the cheek. “See you later.” Then she lingered in the middle of the hallway. GiGi’s bedroom was the opposite side of the house – a separate quarter from where the guest rooms were – and Annie’s childhood bedroom was in the middle of them.

  First, she headed to the end of the hall, to the room she knew was the bridal suite. It had huge bay windows that looked out on the chateau’s gardens, an ensuite with a deep stand alone bath tub, and a huge four-poster bed. The walls looked like they could use a touch of fresh paint, but apart from that it was still just as luxurious as she remembered.

  Sighing, she flopped down onto the bed and wriggled her feet out of her sandals. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of estate agents and potential buyers descending on the chateau, or about the agency and what Jeremy was doing with it back in London, or about the way Sebastian’s eyes twinkled when he smiled.

  But it was no use; she couldn’t make herself drift off.

  So, she showered, changed, and padded back towards her old bedroom.

  Pushing the door open, Annie could feel herself holding her breath. The shutters on the opposite side of the room were closed, so she gingerly crossed towards them.

  They creaked as she tied them back against the outer wall and Annie paused for a moment, unsure whether she could make herself turn around.

  When she did, the room was exactly as she remembered it – and it was as if she’d jumped back in time and was standing there, fifteen years ago.

  Her double-bed, with its white flowery bedspread, that had made teenage-Annie feel so grown up, was in the centre of the room. She swallowed hard and tip-toed towards it. Slowly, she knelt down and reached underneath. Her fingers moved back and forth and, just as she thought she was out of luck, they stumbled upon something – a box.

  Annie pulled the box out from under the bed and sat on the floor. It was made of walnut and was a dark smoky shade of brown. She traced her fingers over the letters on the lid:

  ANNIE & SEBASTIAN’S MEMORY BOX

  It was still there. Just where she’d left it.

  Her fingers lingered above the clasp. She almost opened it. But then she stopped herself.

  It felt strange to be doing it alone; Sebastian had made her the memory box for her fifteenth birthday and they had filled it together, with things they’d collected on their adventures in the woods and fields around the chateau, with little notes to one another, receipts from cafes, photographs…

  Briefly, Annie pictured herself and Sebastian sitting outside with glasses of crisp white wine, watching the sunset, and opening the box together – reminiscing about their magical summers, smiling and laughing at what they found inside. But then she realised that reminiscing would lead to remembering – remembering that she left and never came back.

  So, she put the box back where it came from.

  Unable to nap, Annie decided she would attempt to make dinner for her grandmother. Back in London, she rarely cooked. She either ate in fancy restaurants with Jeremy or ordered take out from one of the hundreds of nearby restaurants.

  Opening the kitchen cupboards, she tried to think back to what they ate for supper when she was a teenager. She remembered fresh bread, cheese, olives, salads bursting with fresh vegetables. But there was very little in her grandmother’s fridge.

  She was about to give up, when someone tapped on the door.

  “Good afternoon. Raiding the fridge?” Sebastian was leaning against the doorframe. He had entered from the terrace and was covered in wood-dust.

  Before she could stop them, Annie’s lips spread into a broad, cheek-dimpling smile. “You’re back early.”

  “I worked extra quick today,” Sebastian replied.

  Annie looked back at the fridge. “I was going to prepare some supper for GiGi but there’s not much in the fridge.”

  Sebastian frowned at her. “Nonsense, I’m sure there’s plenty. Let me go freshen myself and I will help you.”

  Annie smiled at his sometimes-awkward way of phrasing things. “Alright.”

  She waited for him on the sun-soaked terrace. Now that she was in shorts and a white cotton top, as opposed to a long floaty dress with too much polyester in it, she felt a lot cooler. But she was still relieved when she spotted him jogging towards her from the trees.

  He took the steps two at a time, then stopped in front of her. He was looking at her strangely and it made Annie blush. Old Sebastian would have wrapped his arms around her and smothered her with light, enthusiastic kisses on the cheek. That was part of what she’d loved about him – he was so open, so ready to show her affection, so unlike any other boy she’d met.

  Remembering that they were not those people any more was proving harder than she’d expected. So, consciously, she took a step back and said, “Okay Chef Sebastian... lead the way.”

  Three hours later, as the heat of the day finally began to subside, Sebastian emerged from the kitchen onto the terrace with a large dish of home-made pasta, followed by fresh bread that he’d fetched from the village on his way home, and a leafy green salad. Annie had helped him chop ingredients, but then he’d shooed her out of his way and insisted that she relax because, after all, she was supposed to be on vacation.

  “When did you learn to cook?” Annie said, impressed at what he’d managed to concoct.

  “Your grandmother taught me a few tricks.” Sebastian glanced towards the house. “Do you want to fetch her?”

  “Sure.”

  After her afternoon siesta, GiGi had told them she had some phone calls to make and had been in her study ever since.

  Approaching the study door, Annie tried to shift the sensation that perhaps GiGi had b
een on the phone to estate agents, arranging the sale of the chateau.

  But when she knocked, her grandmother cheerfully called for her to enter. “Annie, I’m so sorry. I have ignored you all afternoon.”

  “Don’t be silly, Sebastian’s been cooking and I’ve been very helpfully watching him.” Annie glanced at her grandmother’s desk. It was covered with sheets of handwritten notes and what seemed to be maps of the village. “But you look like you’ve been busy?”

  GiGi rolled her eyes at her desk. “Oh, yes. Come, I’ll explain as we eat.”

  As they sat down outside, GiGi sighed and looked up at the sky. The sun was setting and it was refreshingly less hot. “Ah, that’s better.”

  “So...?” Annie said, helping herself to a large serving of pasta. “What have you been up to?”

  “Well... I seem to have agreed to organise our very first village festival.”

  “A festival? For our village?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow and made an I’m impressed face. “I didn’t think Saint-Sabran was important enough for a festival,” he said, chuckling.

  “Mayor Debois is my good friend. She has been feeling... embarrassed that all the other villages have such grand summer festivals. She wants Saint-Sabran to make its mark on the area too, despite us being very small.”

  “It’s become something of a tradition,” Sebastian added, looking at Annie. “Most villages now host either a week-long festival or some festival nights throughout the summer.”

  “What kind of festival?” Annie added some salad to her plate and started eating.

  “Music, food, wine... a chance for local vendors to show off their produce and families to have a nice time.”

  “And you’ve offered to organise one?” Annie glanced at Sebastian. “GiGi, I know you’ve done weddings, but...”

  “I know,” she said, putting her hands up. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “It’ll be fine,” Sebastian said lightly. “We can help, can’t we Annie?”

  Hearing him refer to them as ‘we’ made Annie’s stomach twitch excitedly. “Yes. Of course.”

  GiGi smiled, then leaned in towards her granddaughter and whispered, “He’s such a darling boy, isn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Annie replied. “Yes, he is.”

  7

  Sebastian

  Cooking with an audience didn’t usually bother Sebastian. But cooking with Annie was a challenge.

  As she leaned against the countertop, her skin glistening slightly with the sunscreen she’d applied, Sebastian’s brain was working overtime trying to remember what ingredients he needed and trying not to remember the reason he’d learned to cook this dish in the first place.

  Angelique had taught Sebastian to cook after Annie left for England after their very last summer together. He had wanted to learn something to impress her when she returned, and he had practised and practised for months.

  Years later, it was still his go-to dish and it still reminded him of her whenever he cooked it. But when she asked where he had learned to cook, he shrugged it off. Perhaps he should have said, “I learned to cook for you.” But he didn’t.

  After dinner, Sebastian cleared the dishes and was going to slip away quietly back to the stable. But Angelique had other ideas.

  He could tell from the twinkle in her eyes that she wanted to leave the two of them alone. And when she loudly announced to Annie that she was tired and needed to retire for the night, then whispered in French to Sebastian, “Have a lovely evening,” he was certain he noticed her wink at him.

  With Angelique gone and the sun setting over the gardens, Sebastian nervously cleared his throat. His resolve was already weakening and, instead of making an excuse and retreating back home to the stable, he found himself asking Annie if she would like to take a walk.

  Annie, with the sun in her eyes, squinted at him and raised her hand to shield her face from the glare. “A walk?”

  Sebastian tipped his head towards the woods and the stream. “The gardens may be a little in need of some care, but the woods are still very beautiful.”

  “Alright,” Annie said, already rising from her chair.

  As she stood, Sebastian couldn’t help looking at her legs. She had always had long, slender legs. Legs that made his heart beat just a little bit faster.

  “Okay,” he said, brightly. “After you, Madamoiselle.”

  ***

  Stepping into the woods, the temperature immediately dropped and Sebastian noticed Annie shiver. He almost put his arm around her. Still, after all these years, his desire to protect her and be close to her was instinctive – coming over him in waves without him doing anything to invite it.

  Glancing at her quickly, so she didn’t think he was staring, he was trying to figure out whether she was still Annie – whether London, and time, and all that had happened since they last saw one another had changed her.

  When he first saw her in her red dress, at the airport, he thought she seemed different. But now, stomping through the woods in shorts and a t-shirt, letting her hand drift through the tall grass and pausing to look at the bark on a nearby tree, she looked just as she always had – pensive, calm, and beautiful.

  “So, what is it like in London?” The question was utterly unimaginative, but Sebastian asked it anyway because he didn’t know where else to start.

  Annie looked at him, then around them at the woods, and shrugged. “Busy. Stressful. Bright. Noisy.”

  “And your job? Your business? It is going well?”

  Again, Annie shrugged. “It’s successful, I guess.” Then she shook her head and turned to him, smiling broadly in a way that caught him completely off-guard. “But, I want to hear about you.”

  Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “Ah, there is nothing much to tell. I’m a carpenter. I live just over there in your grandparents’ old stable.” He swiped his hand down to pick at a long blade of grass and began to twirl it between his fingers. “That’s it.”

  Annie made a pfft sound with her nostrils and laughed at him. “That can’t be it,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

  Was she asking if he was seeing someone? Was she asking what life had been like the last fifteen years, without her?

  “Trust me,” he said, “Saint-Sabran is nowhere near as exciting as London. I don’t get to meet celebrities like Maya Wallace and George Turner.”

  Annie stopped walking. She was frowning at him. “How did you know…?”

  “I might have Googled you, once or twice…” Sebastian said the words before he had the chance to even think about them. And the second they left his lips, he felt his cheeks flush a furious shade of pink.

  “You Googled me?” He couldn’t tell whether she found it amusing or not.

  “Just once… or twice.”

  “Well,” said Annie. “I might have Googled you too.”

  8

  Annie

  Annie woke to the sound of a rooster crowing. She’d forgotten about the chickens her grandmother kept, and she’d forgotten how annoying the rooster was.

  Usually, the shutters kept the bedrooms so dark that it was easy to sleep in way past the sun rising. But last night the heat and humidity had been almost unbearable, so Annie had opted to keep them open.

  Her grandparents had installed air-conditioning several years ago, because the wedding guests wanted it, but the system was expensive to run and had been switched off for months. So, Annie had spent most of the night tossing and turning and slowly sweltering.

  Had summers in Provence always been this hot? Or had they become more vicious since she’d last visited?

  Downstairs, she made herself some coffee and took it outside. If the pool had been full, she might have gone for an early-morning swim or sat beside it and dangled her feet in, but instead she perched on the top step of the terrace, just in front of the sunroom, looking towards Sebastian’s hidden house in the woods.

  As if he’d sensed that she was there, not long after
she sat down, Sebastian emerged from the trees and waved at her.

  He was carrying his own flask of coffee.

  “Morning,” Annie said, smiling.

  “Morning.” Sebastian sat down and brushed his fingers through his thick floppy hair. He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

  “Late night?” Annie asked. They’d finished their walk just before sunset and said goodnight on the terrace. By ten, Annie had been in bed and she’d assumed that Sebastian would have been too. But maybe he couldn’t sleep either. Maybe the heat of the converted stable was too much. Or maybe he was wondering exactly how many times she had Googled him over the years – she really shouldn’t have admitted to that.

  “I was working on a project for far too many hours.” Sebastian grinned sheepishly. “I think it was three a.m. when I went to bed.”

  “What were you working on?” Annie stretched her legs out in front of her and felt herself start to relax. It had always been this way with Sebastian, even after they spent a long time apart between summers – when she saw him, her heart did somersaults, but as soon as they started talking, she felt completely at ease.

  Sebastian tapped the side of his nose with his index finger. “Top secret, I’m afraid.”

  Annie was about to press him to say more, perhaps nudge his side with her elbow and tease him a little, when a strange noise from inside the house interrupted their conversation.

  “What was that?” she asked, glancing back towards the sunroom.

  “I have no idea.”

  They walked slowly inside, half expecting to see that a bird had found its way in amongst the orchids and had knocked something over.

  The sunroom was empty, except for its collection of exotic plants. But as Annie entered the chateau’s grand entrance hall, she let out a short stifled scream. “GiGi?!”