The Chocolate Lovers' Diet

by Carole Matthews

  He offers me his arm which I take, then with his usual impeccable manners he escorts me through to the restaurant. Nerves have twisted my stomach into a knot and it’s not just the thought of getting married very shortly.

  We’re seated at a table in the corner before we speak again.

  ‘I want to offer you my congratulations,’ Jacob says. He’s wearing a smart charcoal-grey suit that flatters his beautiful, baby-blue eyes. His teeth are perfect, his smile just the right side of utterly charming. I can see why he was so successful as a high-class hooker. I can still see why he was a great boyfriend. ‘But I also want to apologise to you.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ I say dismissively.

  ‘There is,’ he insists. ‘I’m really sorry for the way things turned out between us.’

  ‘It’s all water under the bridge,’ I say airily, but I’m surprised that I can still feel something burning up inside me.

  I liked Jacob. I really liked him. And I wonder if Chantal has encouraged me to use him as my wedding planner with the hope that it might actually reignite something between us and snooker my marriage to Marcus. I wouldn’t put it past her – she can be a very sneaky American person when she wants to be. Well, she’s wrong. There’s no one for me now but Marcus.

  ‘Thanks for agreeing to work with me, Lucy,’ Jacob says. ‘You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ll make sure that you have a great wedding.’

  It’s not a great wedding that I’m worried about. I’m more concerned that I’ll have a great marriage to go with it.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  ‘Come on, slowcoach.’ Marcus comes up behind me, lifts my hair and kisses me on the neck. ‘We’re going to be late.’

  It would be true to say that I am dragging my heels somewhat. Tonight, we’re having dinner with Marcus’s parents and, frankly, I’d rather have my teeth pulled. All of them. Without the benefit of modern anaesthetics.

  ‘How did the meeting go with the wedding planner yesterday?’

  ‘Oh, fine,’ I say. There’s no way I’m going to tell him that our wedding planner is an ex-call boy and my ex-boyfriend to boot.

  ‘Was he any good?’ Marcus says. ‘I only want the best for my girl.’

  ‘I think the wedding will be wonderful,’ I say evasively. Even I have to admit that Jacob came up with some great ideas – a chocolate fountain for the evening reception being among the best of them.

  ‘I’ve booked a table at Alfonso’s,’ Marcus continues. ‘Your favourite.’ It’s not really my favourite, Marcus just thinks it is. I wonder what else he thinks about me that simply isn’t true?

  ‘Lovely,’ I say, but I make it sound as if it’s anything but lovely.

  ‘I know that you find seeing my parents an ordeal, but they adore you,’ Marcus tells me.

  They don’t adore me. Marcus’s mother, Hilary, barely tolerates me. She makes it abundantly clear that she thinks I’m stealing her only baby away from her when, patently, I’m not worthy. The more I talk, the more she glares at me, so I talk less and then she glares at me as if I’m a moron. Can’t win.

  His father, David, is a bit better, but I always try to sit as far away from him as possible. This might be a terrible slur on his good name, but he looks like one of those old Lothario types who’d be happy running a hand up your thigh under the tablecloth. Know what I mean? You might say like father, like son – but I don’t want to go there.

  I’ve seen them barely a handful of times in the five years that I’ve been with Marcus and that, I would say, is rather too many. I’m sure they’d agree.

  Finally, I’m ready. Or as ready as I’ll ever be.

  ‘You look fabulous,’ Marcus tells me. He lets his hands travel over my body. ‘I think I’d like to make love to you right now.’

  I ease away from him. ‘Then we’d be even more late.’ And your mother would know, she’d just know, exactly what we’d been up to.

  ‘Later then, you sexy bitch,’ he growls playfully, and squeezes a handful of my bottom.

  Even in the cab Marcus can’t keep his hands off me and I wonder what’s making him feel so damn frisky. He’s been like this since we got back together. To be honest, I’m having more sex than I can comfortably cope with. I’ve been taken over the back of the sofa more times than I care to count. I don’t know if this is Marcus trying to show just how much he loves me. Or whether it’s the fact that he hasn’t got another woman on the go for once that I’m being rogered senseless every five minutes. We can’t continue at this pace. It’s not human.

  It’s sort of flattering that Marcus wants me so much, but as his finger slips inside my bra and toys with my nipple, out of the corner of my eye, I can see the cab driver looking in his mirror. Not only is he getting an eyeful, but I bet he’s thinking, Slut! Has Marcus been taking Viagra, I wonder.

  I manage to get to the restaurant without being ravished in public, but I’m feeling flustered and flushed. While Marcus, of course, is as cool as a cucumber. His parents are already there, which knocks off points for me straight away.

  David hugs me warmly, but I feel his hand slide over my back as if he’s checking out whether I’m wearing a bra. Hilary keeps a safe distance while she pecks at both of my cheeks, clearly hoping that I’m not riddled with some infectious disease. We sit down and, of course, I end up sandwiched between David and Marcus.

  ‘Let’s have champagne,’ David says magnanimously. ‘We’ve not yet had a chance to celebrate your engagement.’

  Hilary makes no comment.

  The champagne comes and the obligatory toasts are completed. Marcus turns to his father and starts to talk about golf, leaving me to deal with Hilary.

  ‘This is all rather short notice,’ she says crisply.

  ‘Well,’ I say, ‘we’ve been together for five years. I guess it was going to happen sometime.’

  Marcus’s mother looks as if she rather wishes that it hadn’t. ‘People who we desperately want to be there are struggling to be able to accept their invitations.’

  There are about two thousand people coming to this damn wedding, all of them invited by Hilary and none of them ever heard of by me. Even Marcus is clueless about most of them. They’re Golf Club, Cricket Club and Bridge Club cronies, I think and, personally, I don’t give two hoots whether they’re there or not.

  Hilary continues in the same vein and I try to blank her out while giving Marcus the evil eye which says, ‘Rescue me!’ He’s so engrossed in recounting the intricacies of his last round, that he completely fails to acknowledge me. I scan the restaurant, hoping that I can see succour arriving in the name of food.

  Then my eyes alight on a table in the corner. A very romantic nook of a corner, as it happens. Crush is sitting there. And he’s not alone.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  A luscious brunette with catwalk model looks is sitting opposite Mr Aiden Holby. They’re chatting away, laughing lightly. A nasty green thing flares inside of me. Not five minutes ago he was trying to snog me in his combat gear, face covered in crap. Now look at him! I’ve spent all day in the office with him and he didn’t mention a thing about having a date. Then again, why should he? I didn’t tell him that I was coming here with my future in-laws either.

  As if he realises that he’s being watched – or maybe I should have turned down my death-ray glare – Crush turns to look at me. He recoils slightly and I’m not sure if it’s in surprise or terror.

  He lifts his hand and gives me a friendly wave. I grit my teeth and wave back. He’s wearing a black shirt and looks fucking gorgeous. Inconsiderate bastard.

  ‘An admirer?’ Hilary asks, as if she’s amazed that I have one.

  ‘My boss,’ I tell her, unable to keep the note of misery out of my voice.

  Why am I suddenly so depressed that Crush is here with another woman? I’m here celebrating my engagement and forthcoming wedding. Why should it matter what Aiden I’ve-Got-A-New-Girlfriend Holby is up to? I bet she’s useless with a replica AK-47 fully au
tomatic paintball machine gun. She looks the sort who’d be happier having a manicure than crawling through the dirt on her knees. Come to think of it, so am I.

  We get through dinner somehow. Hilary whines on in my ear and David keeps giving me very funny looks. Course after course arrives and I keep having to check out Crush’s table and it seems they’re eating at exactly the same pace as us. I had hoped that they’d rush through a couple of dishes and clear off, but no such luck. But then if they had cleared off early, I’d only be wondering what they were up to. Bollocky-bollocks.

  Finally, thankfully, dessert arrives: molten chocolate cake with vanilla cream. Oh yes, oh yes. I risk a glance at Crush’s table and he’s being served exactly the same thing. Marcus has chosen summer pudding which has no chocolate in it at all. How can that be classed as a real dessert? I wonder how much I really have in common with my future husband. How can anyone sane choose flipping fruit when there is delicious chocolate on the menu?

  Crush spoons a mouthful of his chocolate cake into Miss Catwalk Model’s mouth. He’s only doing it because I’m watching. How childish. I won’t look over there again just to spite him.

  Then, just as I’m tucking into my chocolate cake, I feel a hand slip up my thigh. Freezing, I clamp my knees together – which does nothing more than force the hand higher. I look over at Marcus, but he seems completely oblivious. I look at David, and he’s grinning widely at me. Ohmigod. I’m being sexually assaulted under the table by my fiancé’s father!

  Yes, there it goes again. Another over-familiar squeeze.

  ‘Excuse me.’ I abandon my dessert. ‘I must visit the ladies’ room.’

  Dashing across the restaurant, I take refuge in the loo. It’s very chic in here, all hardwood with cherry-red highlights of colour. I splash water on my face even though it’ll ruin my make-up and then I run my wrists under the tap. While I’m contemplating my next move, there’s a tentative knock on the door and I hear Crush’s voice call, ‘Lucy? Are you in there, Lucy?’

  I’ve nowhere to hide. There’s no rear exit. I’m cornered. Aiden Holby pushes the door ajar. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say, sounding half-strangled. For some reason, I lower my voice to a stage whisper. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘In here?’ Crush says. ‘Or in the restaurant generally?’

  ‘Both!’

  ‘I’m in the restaurant because I have a lovely date. I’m in here because I’ve come to see if you’re okay. You looked very distressed when you shot across the restaurant like a scalded cat.’

  ‘I am distressed.’

  ‘Want to talk about it?’

  ‘In here?’

  He pulls me into the cubicle at the end of the row and closes the door behind him. I put the lid down on the loo and sit. Crush leans against the wall. ‘Is it anything to do with me?’

  I fold my arms and try to look haughty. ‘Why do you think my whole life revolves around you?’

  He grins at me. ‘You looked pretty pissed off when you saw me with another woman.’

  ‘I was not!’

  ‘I’ve had a few dates with her,’ Crush tells me, even though I’m not the slightest bit interested. ‘That’s all. She’s Italian. A catwalk model over here on assignment.’

  Oh, no! Not only does she look like a catwalk model, but she bloody well is one! Life is so fucking unfair. She’s probably one of those bitches who’s ‘not so keen on chocolate’, as well. I despise the very ground she walks on.

  ‘You look like you’re having a great time.’ I try not to sound bitter and twisted.

  ‘You, on the other hand, look thoroughly miserable.’

  I say nothing to incriminate myself.

  ‘Who’s the scary old bat with the Botox and hairspray overdose?’

  ‘That’s Hilary,’ I say. ‘Marcus’s mother.’

  ‘Ooo,’ Crush says. ‘That’s going to be your mother-in-law for the next twenty-five years or whatever.’

  I sag on the loo. ‘Don’t remind me.’ I shake my head, trying to get the image of David’s hand creeping up my leg out of my mind. ‘That’s not the worst of it. I’ll kill you if you breathe a word of this to anyone else.’ I give him a look that says I mean it. ‘I’ve just been groped by Marcus’s dad.’

  Crush laughs out loud.

  ‘Don’t laugh,’ I moan. ‘It’s not funny.’

  Then I hear the door open, so I shush Aiden. A moment later, Hilary’s voice trills out. ‘Lucy? Lucy? Are you all right? You’ve been gone ever such a long time. Marcus has sent me to look for you.’

  ‘I’m fine, Hilary,’ I say.

  Crush scooshes me backwards and silently climbs onto the loo in front of me. What’s he doing? I give him a look and he puts his finger to his lips to quieten me, then he points to the gap at the bottom of the cubicle door. I have to hold onto his thighs to stop him wobbling. His groin is perilously close to my mouth. My heart is banging in my chest and it’s only partly because Hilary the Hun is prowling just outside the door.

  Marcus’s mother’s head does, indeed, appear at floor-level. Bloody hell, she is actually trying to peep under the loo door. What does she think – that I’ve got a man in here! Oh. But then I have.

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?’ she says under the door.

  ‘Slightly dodgy tummy,’ I tell her quickly.

  ‘Must be all the excitement,’ she replies.

  Must be because your husband’s trying to cop a feel of my growler.

  ‘I’ll be out in just a minute,’ I say. ‘Don’t wait for me. Tell Marcus that I’m okay.’

  Then she leaves and you don’t know how relieved I am that she didn’t decide to pay a visit to the facilities while she was here. I don’t think I could have coped. No one should be forced to listen to their future mother-in-law having a wee.

  When the door closes behind her, Crush jumps down from the loo seat. I am almost faint with relief.

  ‘That was fun,’ he says. ‘In a pervy sort of way.’

  ‘How did you know that she’d look under the door?’

  ‘Those sort of women always do,’ Crush tells me – though quite where he has gleaned this knowledge from, I have no idea.

  ‘Buggeration.’ I hold my head in my hands. ‘What sort of a family am I marrying into?’

  ‘I have to be going,’ Crush says. And even though we’re in a toilet, Aiden Holby kisses me quickly and firmly on the mouth. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening,’ he says with a grin as he breezes out of the cubicle.

  But he knows damn well that I won’t.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  None of us know what to say. We’re sitting in Chocolate Heaven, but even a plate of Clive’s finest champagne truffles is failing to soothe us. Our mood is sombre in sympathy with our friend’s terrible tragedy.

  Nadia is dressed in black. Her face is pale and drawn. She’s picking at a chocolate without enthusiasm. Eventually, she gives up and pushes the plate away from her. ‘Toby’s body is due to arrive back later today,’ she says into the silence. ‘Could one of you come with me?’

  ‘We’ll all come,’ I say. ‘We should never have let you go to Las Vegas alone. This is just awful for you.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s really hit me yet,’ Nadia admits. ‘And I don’t know what I would have done without you all.’

  I can’t take much credit myself, but Chantal has been absolutely wonderful. She’s stepped into the breach once again, looking after Lewis and helping Nadia with the organisation of the funeral. Why is it, at a time when all you want to do is fall to pieces, there’s so much paperwork to complete? This has all been a living nightmare for Nadia, but she’s coping incredibly with it. I don’t know that I’d have been so stoic in her situation.

  ‘Does this mean that Toby’s debts are cleared?’ I venture. Not a nice question, but I know that we all want to ask it. I hate to think that Nadia will still be struggling with financial problems on top of everything else.

&n
bsp; ‘I wish.’ Nadia sighs. ‘I went to see the solicitor this morning. The bank could chase me for all of Toby’s debts if they want to play hardball. She’s going to try to negotiate for me just to pay off a proportion of it.’

  ‘How can the banks be so heartless?’ Autumn wants to know.

  ‘It’s business,’ Nadia says with a weary shrug. ‘The trouble is, if they come after the estate, there’s nothing there. The house is mortgaged up to the hilt, we owe money everywhere – including to Chantal. Even Toby’s work van is financed. He’d managed to rack up ninety thousand pounds’ worth of debt on twelve different credit cards – all on internet gambling sites. Ninety thousand pounds,’ she stresses. ‘How could he do that? He blew another forty grand in Vegas trying to claw something back.’ Her expression is bleak. ‘Needless to say, it didn’t work. If the banks choose to pursue me, they could make us homeless.’

  ‘You’ll always have a place with me,’ Chantal says.

  ‘Thanks.’ Nadia tries a wan smile, but tears are quick to follow it. ‘I just keep wondering if there was something more that I could have done. Was there something I could have said to stop him?’

  ‘Nadia,’ I tell her as I clasp her hand in mine. ‘You know that you did everything possible. Please don’t beat yourself up over this.’

  ‘Part of me is grieving for the loss of him,’ she says. ‘Part of me hates him for leaving me and Lewis in such a mess. And part of me is simply relieved that he won’t be able to gamble any more. I don’t know which emotion to deal with first.’ Nadia rubs her hands over her face. ‘My brain feels as if it’s about to explode.’

  ‘We’ll help you through it,’ Autumn promises. ‘That’s what we’re here for.’

  ‘I had to get out of the house today,’ Nadia continues. ‘It just feels so empty without Toby there. I keep expecting him to come through the door.’

  ‘It’s going to take a long time for that feeling to stop,’ Autumn tells her. ‘Just keep talking to us about it, don’t bottle it up. You know we’ll do all we can. I’ll make you a blend of aromatherapy oils to help you sleep.’