![]() Warm, generous, sun-drenched: a world of strawberry-picking and white tablecloths in orchards on warm evenings where all guests are welcome and, if you like it well enough, you don’t ever have to leave. ![]() As the first tenuous signs of spring try to force their way through the rain and sharp winds here in London, I decided I needed a bit of bucolic escapism and bought myself the book (and its sequels). But plot? I honestly couldn’t remember much. I also grew to assume that my paternal grandmother, a farmer’s wife who died when I was small, must have been pretty much like Pam Ferris’s Ma Larkin. ![]() ![]() The word ‘perfick’ made an impression, of course, and I remember that, every time Catherine Zeta-Jones came on screen as Mariette, my dad would shake his head and say, “I don’t know what they see in her”. I have vague memories of watching the Darling Buds of May TV series in the early 1990s, although I was too young for much to register. ![]()
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