Praise forHead Over Heels in France:
'A tale of survival against the odds in the depths of the French countryside. How one woman left the glittering world of media to bewith, of all things, a macho Frenchman. A mad decision? Find out for yourself in this addictive and fast-paced read'
Helena Frith Powell, author of Love in a Warm Climate
'Engaging and honest, like its author, it is one of my favourite books of the year'
Tess Stimson, author of The Wife Who Ran Away
'Ooh la la! A fabulous, funny French love story'
Fi Cotter Craig, author of The Middle-class ABC
'I loved this book; this true story of how a chance encounter took Sam from despair to delight, and from hopelessness to happiness, mademe keep on reading. Apart from being a fabulous read, this book is inspiring, uplifting, funny and poignant by turns. Sam can reallywrite; her descriptions of rural France the colours, the scents, the food and the people made me feel as if I was already there andmade me want to decamp there immediately. It is true to say this book is a page turner; I became lost in it even though I had a hundredother things to do as it forced me to escape into the expat world of rural France and was very entertaining and uplifting. I can highly recommend it'
Marisa Peer, diet and nutrition expert, author and journalist
HEAD OVER HEELS IN FRANCE
Copyright Samantha Brick, 2013
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, nor transmitted, nor translated into a machine language, without the written permission of the publishers.
Samantha Brick has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Condition of Sale
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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eISBN: 978-0-85765-889-0
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To Pascal
Note from the Author
This is a true story, based on diaries I've kept throughout my time in television and since moving to France. However certain names and details have been changed to protect the privacy of those concerned.
Acknowledgements
Mille mercis to the utterly lovely team at Summersdale for making the writing of this memoir a joy. Especially Jen, Debbie, Lucy, Suzanne and Nicky, all of whom have held my hand so gently yet firmly through the process.
Sally Ann, Christine, Tracey, Rosetta thank you for the aura sprays, cupcakes and 'calorie-free' vodka; and for being there when the merde really did hit the fan.
Sophie and Frances: you spurred me on when you read my first attempts at writing this I so appreciated your words of encouragement.
I blush when I think of the scrapes the family GP, Dr Hughes, has seen the Bricks through over the decades Dr Hughes you are one of the many unsung heroes of the NHS. Thank you for getting me through the darkest period of my life.
I consider myself lucky to be part of the Rubinat family and to have The Best Stepchildren in the World: Jolle, Hlios and Antonio. Thank you for letting me into your lives.
I daren't enter Birmingham again without a shout out to my family: Nan, Norman, Debra, Sophie, Victoria, Anthony, Lola, Dave and Sam thank you for putting up with the flighty one. Jo and Fiona you are The Best Li'l Sisters ever, the next bottle of Pinot Blush at The Fighting Cocks is on me. Madeleine, my angel what would the doggies and I have done without you?
Dad, what can I say? Your number one girl is eternally grateful and assuming you'll be available when we move to the UK (joke).
Mum, you catch me every time I fall and yet you continually give me the confidence to carry on I know thank you isn't enough
Pascal, mon amour, je t'aime la folie.
Contents
TV Executive, Interrupted
An Invitation to France
The Way of the Hot-blooded Frenchman
Reality Bites
Un Retour en France
Falling in Love
The Rehearsal
The Opposition
Meeting the Rubinats
Meeting My Family
The Move
Daily Routine Trying to Fit In
Nasty Surprises
Christmas
Los Angeles, and Closing the Door on My Old Life
Wedding Preparations and Marriage Hiccups
Our House: DIY SOS
The Wedding
Prologue
September 2007
Finally, the car scrunches along the gravelled drive.
After fourteen hours on the road, the last of which was on teeny-tiny lanes approximately 2 kilometres away from our destination, the view is worth the wait.
Dense hedging gives way to reveal one dreamy, turreted, chalk-coloured chateau. The elegant country house looks straight out of a fairy tale, its round towers shooting up to protect it.
Two months ago, when I'd said 'yes' to the question that would change my life forever, booking a night's stay in a Loire Valley, dog-friendly hotel seemed like a fitting first night in France.
Having eventually parked the car, I fall out of the driver door, trying not to dislodge any of the countless essential belongings shoehorned around me when I said goodbye to my old life and the United Kingdom. A jelly baby wrapping flutters to the floor, a can of sugar-free Red Bull swiftly following.
'Look at that!' Mother cries, as she exits her side of the car, a sweater and a bottle of water rolling out behind her. 'It's beautiful, isn't it?'
My first night in France, my new home turf, and I'm spending it with Mother.
Mother, fifty-six, red-haired and with a Rubenesque figure, rubs pointedly at the back of her legs. For the last few hours she's been muttering about deep vein thrombosis. Honestly! Anyone would think she'd been soldered to the seat.
'Yes,' I reply, equally enthused, 'it is!'
I furtively look behind me at the car. One filthy maroon Kia Sportage packed to the gills. Suitcases, clothes, countless carrier bags. Not to mention a 15-kilogram sack of organic dog food, several baskets of canine paraphernalia and two hairy salivating hounds leaping and barking hysterically in the cramped rear of the car.
'C'mon, boys! Out you get,' I shrill, gingerly opening the back door. One crack of the outside world and they recognise the promise of freedom, each throwing 6 stone of weight against the door, causing it to fly open, wind me in the stomach and send me hurtling into a rather posh BMW (which now has a slight dent, courtesy of my bottom).