The Girl, the Dog and the Writer in Provence chapter sampler

I will show you!’ He disappeared up the stone staircase to the first floor. Tobias shrugged. Freja giggled and they trotted up the steps. The kitchen was plain and old-fashioned. There was an open fireplace, a sink and a stove along one side wall, a pale green dresser along the other. A large oak table stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by ten mismatched chairs. Ten chairs , thought Freja. I don’t suppose we’ll ever need so many. Pippin jumped out from behind the dresser, an apple tart in his hands. ‘Ta-da!’ he cried. ‘Grand-Mère baked it this morning. For you! And inside the dresser, there are some more good things to eat so you won’t be hungry on your first night here — half a dozen eggs, two baguettes, a pot of honey made by the bees down in Monsieur Delahaye’s lavender field, a bag of dried figs and a little wheel of cheese.’ He screwed up his face. ‘The cheese is very stinky. It smells like something that has been sneezed from a goat’s nostril. But it tastes delicious, like you have died and gone to heaven.’ Pippin beamed at Freja, his brown eyes warm and welcoming and full of joy. Freja’s breath caught. For she realised that, already, she’d made a friend. And it had been as easy as pie. ‘As easy as apple tart,’ she whispered, running her hand along the edge of the oak table. There would, it seemed, be one less chair up for grabs.

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