Escape the cold and let Lucy Coleman transport you to glorious, sun-drenched France, for the perfect feel-good read.
Paris and the Palace of Versailles have always meant a lot to TV producer Lexie. Her grandma Viv spent a year there, but her adventures and memories were never discussed, and Lexie has long wondered why they were a family secret.
When work presents the perfect excuse to spend Springtime in Versailles, Lexie delves into Viv’s old diaries and scrapbooks, and with the help of handsome interpreter Ronan, she is soon learning more about the characters that tend to the magnificent gardens, now and in the past.
In amongst the beauty and splendour of the French countryside, a story of lost love, rivalry and tragedy unfolds. Can Lexie and Ronan right the wrongs of the past, and will France play its tricks on them both before Lexie has to go home? Will this truly be a Springtime to Remember…
Let Lucy Coleman sweep you away with this perfect feel-good love story.
Paris and the Palace of Versailles have always meant a lot to TV producer Lexie. Her grandma Viv spent a year there, but her adventures and memories were never discussed, and Lexie has long wondered why they were a family secret.
When work presents the perfect excuse to spend Springtime in Versailles, Lexie delves into Viv’s old diaries and scrapbooks, and with the help of handsome interpreter Ronan, she is soon learning more about the characters that tend to the magnificent gardens, now and in the past.
In amongst the beauty and splendour of the French countryside, a story of lost love, rivalry and tragedy unfolds. Can Lexie and Ronan right the wrongs of the past, and will France play its tricks on them both before Lexie has to go home? Will this truly be a Springtime to Remember…
Let Lucy Coleman sweep you away with this perfect feel-good love story.
Extract
1
When Fairy Tales
Come True
‘How big?’ Little
Maisie stares up at me questioningly. Surrounded by a mantle of
shadows in the darkened room, only the tiny shaft of light seeping in
from the landing allows me to see her baby-blue eyes. She’s
determined not to give in to sleep, but it’s obvious she’s
fighting a losing battle.
Maisie blinks in rapid
succession and already her breathing is beginning to slow.
‘Hu-u-u-uge.’ The
sound of my soft whisper fills the air. ‘And she promised herself
she would never, ever, let anyone deter her from trying her hardest
to make everything she wished for come true.’
I glance down at my
darling niece and catch a fleeting glimpse of a smile before sleep
finally whisks her away. Hesitant to make a move for fear of
disturbing her, I decide to sit for a while, fascinated by that
perfect little heart-shaped face. It tugs on my heart strings as I
realise how much I’m going to miss her this spring.
As I’m about to ease
myself up very gingerly off the bed, to my complete surprise her
little voice suddenly rises up out of the darkness.
‘When you come back
you will tell me all about your adventure, won’t you, Auntie
Lexie?’
I reach across to
smooth a few strands of hair away from her warm little cheek.
‘Of course, I will.
And it will be a story of palaces and kings and magical gardens that
stretch out as far as the eye can see. Now go to sleep, beautiful
girl, and keep a tight hold of Mr Panda, because he will keep you
safe until I get home.’ She snuggles her rather threadbare
companion even closer.
Stooping to plant a
kiss on her forehead, I notice she’s fallen back to sleep. It’s
hard not to feel sad, because when I return, she’ll probably have
grown another inch and I will have missed so much. Even a few months
can see so many changes in a five-year-old and she’s growing up way
too quickly.
Maisie is an old head on young shoulders, and takes
after me, rather than my sister, Shellie. Much to Shellie’s
annoyance.
I creep out to find my
older sister in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar leisurely
reading her Kindle.
‘That was quick, but
Maisie was exhausted. Swimming always has that effect on her. She’s
going to miss you, you know.’
Shellie holds up her
empty coffee mug and shakes it at me. I nod, sinking down onto the
stool next to her as she jumps up and heads in the direction of the
coffee machine.
‘I know she’s only
a phone call away, but it won’t be the same. She’s my little
buddy. You made a special one there, sis.’
Shellie laughs. ‘Well,
I might not have attained the lofty heights of ambition and fame that
my baby sister and my older brother have, but this is the life I
wanted, so I’m happy.’
I studiously ignore the
reference to our estranged brother, Jake. Success often comes at a
price and, in his case, it went to his head. I guess family doesn’t
mean much if your ego tells you that you’ve outgrown the people who
love you.
Reining in that little
surge of anger his name always invokes, I watch Shellie as she moves
around the kitchen. With baby number two due in seven months’ time
she’s in her element. I know she’s impatient, ticking off each
precious day on her calendar at the thought of giving Maisie a
sibling. Shellie is a mini version of Mum, whereas Jake and I take
after our late father, Paul.
Chrissy, our mum, has
always been the rock of the family because Dad was often away
travelling, or home working late in his study. They were a team,
though, and she was a bigger part of his success than most people
realise. And because they were both happy in their respective roles,
I can’t remember them ever having a cross word.
Dad was someone who
grabbed every opportunity and was determined to live his dream. Was
he a little self-centred? Well, yes, I suppose he was, because as
soon as he was away, it was as if we didn’t really exist for him.
But on his return, Dad would thrill us with stories that captured our
imaginations and fired our enthusiasm.
Dad was lauded as one
of the top wildlife photographers of his generation, and he lived for
the thrill of capturing that perfect shot. With a long list of
magazine articles and natural history programmes to his credit, he
was always in demand. The fact that he died while doing something he
loved seemed fitting in a tragic sort of way.
I remember the day of the fateful call and the phone falling from
Mum’s ear as she struggled to take in the devastating news. Dad had
a massive heart attack while filming on location in Tarangire
National Park, in Tanzania. If only it had happened in the UK, maybe
we could have…
‘You haven’t heard
a word I’ve been saying, have you, Lexie?’
Shellie appears in
front of me, proffering a mug of steaming coffee and one of her
delicious, homemade chocolate and beetroot brownies.
‘Sorry. My head is
all over the place right now. So many last-minute things to do before
I fly out tomorrow.’
She eases herself up
onto the stool alongside me, frowning.
‘No regrets? I mean,
you’re always heading off somewhere or other, but this is the
longest stint in one go. I know there’s a lot at stake for you
personally on this one.’
I burst out laughing.
‘A lot? You could say that. I’m sinking every penny I’ve saved
into this, and it’s my one-time shot.’
Thank you, Em, so lovely to be here - have a wonderful start to 2020!
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