The Chocolate Lovers' Christmas

by Carole Matthews

  She was sitting in the rocking chair in Lana’s nursery. The light was dimmed and all she could hear was the hum of the television from downstairs playing away to itself and the occasional contented sucking noise from the child at her breast. Despite her tiny daughter being unaware of the impending chaos of Christmas, Chantal had decorated her nursery for her. Lana might be too young to appreciate it, but surely she had to mark her daughter’s first Christmas in the world.

  Chantal hadn’t told any of the girls, but she’d slipped out for an afternoon of shopping with Jacob Lawson and together they’d chosen all of the decorations for Lana’s room. It had been great fun, a real tonic and they’d laughed a lot.

  She shouldn’t see Jacob. It was madness. If she was working on her relationship with Ted, then really Jacob should be out of the picture completely. But she had to admit that he was always a very pleasant distraction.

  Also, it was looking increasingly likely that Nadia and Jacob might start a relationship. They’d become very good friends in recent months and Jacob spent a lot of time at her house. Nadia insisted that she still wasn’t ready for a relationship and Chantal could well understand that, but she could do worse than hook up with someone like Jacob. Chantal could give him a very good reference as husband material. He was kind, caring, funny and more than a little hot. He was tall, blond, always immaculately dressed and had impeccable manners. She always wondered why he didn’t have a string of women on his arm, but that wasn’t Jacob’s way either. He was loyal, a good friend and unaware of just how attractive he was.

  Still, she didn’t know how the girls – or, more importantly, Ted – would feel about her seeing Jacob again. So she decided that it would have to remain their secret even though it was entirely platonic.

  They’d had a great time. She and Jacob had hit Heals and had splurged on buying Lana some fabulous festive treats. There was a chubby snowman light standing tall in the corner, giving off a cheery glow. On her dresser there was a contemporary glass vase filled with twinkling pink lights. Next to that was a white Christmas tree hung with pink and silver baubles featuring nursery rhymes. Not only was Jacob good company, but he had excellent taste too. Between them, they would make sure this kid had style.

  She looked at the baby nestled against her, felt the warmth of her soft skin. Could it really be her child? Tiny fists worked at the air, opening and closing; she slipped her finger inside one and the perfect fingers closed tightly around hers while dark eyes searched for her face.

  ‘Shush, little one,’ she said softly. ‘Everything’s fine.’

  At that the baby hiccupped and Chantal rubbed her back.

  ‘Did you like seeing Lucy, Autumn and Nadia today? They all love you so much. They’re going to be such good aunties to you. They’re going to teach you so much about great chocolate. Yes, they are. I love them all, Lana, and I hope that you will too. I don’t know what I’d do without them.’

  Lana’s rosebud lips pursed and a frown settled on her brow.

  She felt an overwhelming rush of love for her child, a feeling so deep that she had never realised it existed, let alone that she would ever experience it. Chantal knew that from now on she would lay down her life for this little squalling bundle. ‘You know, you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.’

  Gazing at her baby, Chantal wondered, who exactly did Lana take after? Ted was undeniably handsome, but had Lana inherited his good looks? At the moment, Lana certainly didn’t bear a strong resemblance to him. Ted’s hair was dark, swept back from his face in a classic style. Her darling daughter had fair hair, but, perhaps that would change. At the moment, Lana’s features were still predominantly pink and pudgy and Chantal was damn sure she hadn’t slept with someone who looked like that during her ‘wild period’. Thank goodness for the advances of modern science, otherwise she might have always remained in doubt. She sighed to herself. At the time, it had seemed as if she was having a lot of fun – picking up men in hotels wherever she stayed when she was away on business. It had made her feel empowered. Now she realised how ridiculous and desperate it had all been – not to mention risky. Thankfully, she’d come out the other side of it a wiser woman. She had Lana to thank for that. Chantal was now a responsible mother. She had other people to think about. The family unit had become all-important to her and, from now on, she’d be a one-man woman.

  Since then she and Ted had done much to repair their marriage and things were OK between them. In some ways she had a newfound affection for him. However, there was another complication that was going to be more tricky to handle. Ted, too, hadn’t been entirely abstemious during their brief separation and now there was another Baby Hamilton waiting in the wings.

  Chantal had met Stacey – the mother of Baby Hamilton number two – only a handful of times. She’d answered a few phone calls, enquired about her welfare, and had a couple of fleeting exchanges but not much more. So far she’d managed to keep Ted’s other family at arm’s length. How long could that last? Stacey lived nearby and Ted went to her house whenever he visited the baby. This Hamilton baby was also a little girl, by Ted’s account an adorable bundle called Elsie. Ted always went to see them at least one evening a week and during the weekend. Sometimes he could be gone all day on Saturday and it was strange to know that he’d gone to see his other family. They hadn’t discussed what would happen when Elsie got older and he wanted to have her with them for the entire weekend. It was bound to happen.

  If she was honest, from what she’d seen of Stacey, the girl seemed nice enough. In other circumstances, who knows, they could even have become friends. The relationship between Stacey and her husband had been brief – over, almost, before it had begun. It was an affair that had started at work while he and Chantal had been temporarily parted. For whatever reason – something else they’d never discussed – their fling hadn’t lasted. When Chantal found that she was pregnant, Ted, thankfully, had decided to give their marriage another go.

  Now Stacey was the one left holding the baby on her own. There was a part of Chantal that was tremendously grateful Ted had stayed with her. But she also felt awful for Stacey; it must be difficult to be a single mum trying to bring up a child by yourself. Goodness only knew, it was hard enough with two sets of hands to the pump.

  What a mess this was. The repercussions of their foolishness would continue for years. Always at the back of her mind were questions and more questions. Would Ted love Lana or the other baby more? Would one of the children look more like him as they grew older? Which of the bonds would be stronger? And how on earth would they cope with their strange little family ties in the future? Chantal sighed to herself. Only time would tell. They had two beautiful babies as a result of their tangled relationships and they were related by blood – half-sisters. The girls should be aware of that.

  These were the difficulties that created ripples through the generations, all caused because some stupid grown-ups, after a few badly aimed glasses of wine and a vague sense of entitlement, felt they deserved some ‘commitment-free’ sex. Chantal sighed to herself. Perhaps that was unnecessarily harsh, but there was no doubt the ramifications were more far-reaching than she’d ever anticipated.

  ‘You’ve got a half-sister, Lana,’ Chantal murmured, stroking the soft hair down on her daughter’s head. ‘Perhaps we should arrange for some play dates?’

  Despite trying to keep the lightness in her voice, she felt a tear spring to her eyes. She didn’t want her child’s future to be turbulent. She wanted Lana to have a long and happy life, filled with lots of love and a little bit of chocolate.

  Chapter Seven

  Autumn had been quiet all evening; she was thinking about Rich and it had made her sad. Addison, for once, had seemed keen to discuss the wedding plans, but she couldn’t focus. It had caused some tension with him, as it always did. Her fiancé could never be classed as her brother’s biggest fan – dead or alive.

  ‘I should go home,’ Addison said, somewhat petulantly. There
was a scowl marring his handsome, dark face. A scowl that seemed to be there more often than not these days. He ran a hand over his shaved, ebony head.

  ‘Stay,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. This is all very raw. I feel so alone without Rich.’

  Addison bristled. It was the wrong thing to say. ‘You have me.’

  ‘I meant family,’ she corrected. ‘He’s always felt like the only family I have.’ She’d hoped that she would have become closer to her parents in the circumstances, but they’d remained as cold and aloof as ever. Her mother had cried at Rich’s funeral. It was the first time that Autumn had ever seen her break down. Even then they were controlled, sophisticated tears. No red eyes, dribbling nose or noisy sobbing from her mother. However, her father had resolutely maintained his stiff upper lip throughout. How could someone bury their only son and remain dry-eyed?

  She and Addison had watched a film which had slipped past Autumn’s eyes without her taking any of it in and, even when she’d laid her head in his lap to cuddle up to him, Addison had remained tense. She hoped that he understood what she was going through. Surely he must have lost a loved one too? Losing someone as close as a brother, particularly one who’d been so very reliant on her, was like losing one of her own limbs. Part of her was missing and she didn’t know if, without Rich, she’d ever feel whole again.

  Later, she and Addison had gone to bed tetchy with each other and had slept back to back. This morning he’d got up and gone straight into the office. It didn’t help that they both worked at the same place. They’d met at the drugs rehabilitation centre, where Addison was much higher up the ladder than she was. He’d started as an enterprise development officer, but had recently been promoted to chief administrator and, all too often, she could see the strain of increased responsibility on his face. All she did was teach classes on stained-glass techniques, which was hardly at the cutting edge of drug treatment, but it did help some of the kids to keep out of trouble. At one time, she was at the centre every day. Now her shifts were being reduced and some weeks she only went in once or twice. The only upside was that it meant there wasn’t a problem that she and Addison shared a place of work as she didn’t see a great deal of him. Much of Addison’s day was now spent on paperwork – but she hoped that his mood would have improved by the time she arrived.

  As soon as Addison had left, Autumn sat at the kitchen table and ate a slice of toast. Her appetite had disappeared in the last few months – even for chocolate. Normally, she’d have gone over to Rich’s place every day to see how he was, make sure that he was eating and taking his medication and she’d yet to find something to fill that void. Helping out Nadia by looking after Lewis had gone a long way to distracting her from her pain, plus she and Nadia had become closer. They’d both suffered in a way that Lucy and Chantal couldn’t fully understand – no one did until it happened to them – and she was so glad of her friendship. She’d hoped that in her grief she would find that closeness and empathy with Addison, but it wasn’t to be.

  Nadia was desperate for a job and had been called for a second interview by one of the companies she’d seen a couple of weeks ago. Obviously, her friend was keen to go and had called last night to ask if she would look after Lewis for a few hours again today before he went to nursery. Some days he went in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon which could make juggling childcare a little tricky.

  Of course, she hadn’t hesitated. She adored Lewis and it was never difficult to find the time or inclination to babysit for him. Not that he was a baby anymore; at four years old, he was quite the little man and would soon be going to school all day. Nadia couldn’t wait for it to happen as it meant it would be easier for her to go back to work, but it would leave a hole in Autumn’s life. She liked the time that she and Lewis spent together. Sometimes it left a longing in her that was hard to ignore.

  When she arrived to collect him, Lewis was already buttoned up in his coat.

  ‘It’s cold out today,’ she warned.

  ‘I don’t mind, Auntie Autumn.’

  Lewis was an outdoors kind of boy. There was only so long he could spend with a jigsaw or toy, so there always came a point where she’d take him to the local park to run off some excess energy. It was a bit like taking an exuberant puppy for a walk.

  ‘Good luck with the interview,’ she said to Nadia.

  ‘Keep everything crossed for me.’ Nadia bent to kiss her son goodbye. ‘Love you to the moon and back. Be good for Auntie Autumn. See you both later.’

  Then, as Nadia headed towards the Tube, Autumn and Lewis headed for the park. He was holding her hand, rather reluctantly, and skipping along beside her as they went up the road. The snow on the pavement was slushy and Lewis kicked at it in his wellingtons. As soon as they reached the safe area inside the park railings, she could let him off the leash to run wild.

  The first port of call was always the swings and today was no different. Lewis dashed towards them, Autumn trailing in his wake, puffing heavily. It was strange how a young child could make you feel both energised and exhausted at the same time.

  As the weather was sharp and the sky hanging low, they had very little company. This was usually a very busy playground, but the plummeting temperature must have made staying at home to watch television seem very attractive. Autumn clapped her hands together in her gloves to ward off the cold. Lewis had no such issue – he’d already jumped onto the swing and was working his little legs to go higher.

  ‘Auntie Autumn,’ he cried. ‘Push me. Push me higher!’

  She went over to oblige.

  On the swing next to Lewis was a little girl of a similar age. At the same time as Autumn took up station behind Lewis’s swing, a man came along to push her. Obviously, from the doting look on his face, the child’s dad.

  ‘Looks like our duties are required,’ he quipped.

  ‘Yes.’ He had a nice smile and, though Autumn tried not to look, a few sideways glances told her that he was rather handsome too. He was tall, in need of a shave, and his striped beanie hat hid the colour of his hair, but she suspected it might be chestnut brown as his skin was lightly freckled. He looked muscular too, but that could be due to the bulk of his padded winter coat. Above all he had kind eyes and a sensual mouth that seemed ready to smile. He looked like a man who would be reliable, a good friend.

  ‘This is Florence,’ he nodded towards the rosy-cheeked child swinging in front of him.

  ‘And this is Lewis. Say hello.’

  ‘Hello,’ Lewis said. ‘Enough swings now, Auntie Autumn. Want the see-saw.’

  ‘Me too,’ Florence piped up.

  ‘Do you want to share the see-saw with Florence?’ Autumn asked. It was never a given. Since he’d lost his dad, Lewis could be prone to a tantrum that came out of nowhere. Sharing could be an issue.

  This time Lewis nodded and they all headed to the see-saw together. Florence and Lewis clambered on while Autumn and Florence’s dad stood by, observing their charges.

  ‘I was going to ask if you came here often,’ the man said, ‘but that sounds way too cheesy.’

  Autumn laughed. ‘I forgive you.’

  ‘It’s not a pick-up line, I promise.’

  ‘Then the answer’s reasonably often. Probably two or three times a week.’

  ‘I don’t know how I haven’t seen you and your son before.’

  ‘He’s not my boy,’ Autumn explained. ‘Lewis is my friend’s son, but I look after him a couple of times a week for her. She’s on her own, so it’s hard.’

  ‘I know the feeling.’ He held out a hand. ‘I’m Miles, by the way. Miles Stratford.’

  ‘Autumn Fielding.’

  ‘Nice to meet you. I’m here virtually every day, but some of the mums still view me with the utmost suspicion. Single man in playground scare.’

  ‘A sign of the times, I guess.’

  ‘Sad though. I work from home, so I’m able to look after Florence in the day and then I work at night when she’s gone to bed.’
r />   ‘That must take a lot of discipline.’

  ‘You do what you have to, don’t you? It’s not so bad.’ He looked down, working at the springy surface of the playground with the toe of his chunky boot. ‘Florence’s mum and I still live in the same road and we share childcare. Flo has one week with me and one week with my ex. It’s not ideal, but what is these days?’

  ‘You’ve stayed friends?’

  He grinned. ‘I wouldn’t go as far as to say that. But we’re not at each other’s throats. Not anymore.’

  They watched as Florence and Lewis climbed off the see-saw – without accident – and rushed to the shiny spinner. Florence took the seat on it while Lewis leaned on the bar. She and Miles ambled behind them and, when they reached the kids, gave them a gentle spin.

  ‘What sort of work do you do?’ She didn’t want to pry but, even with this short conversation, he seemed like a very easy guy to talk to. He came across, instantly, as very open and she’d become so used to walking on eggshells with Addison that it was nice to have a conversation with someone who didn’t have an agenda.

  ‘Website designer. It’s flexible. That’s why I can fit my work around Florence. I like to think I do my best work at three in the morning. Though I might be kidding myself.’ He smiled. ‘Do you work?’

  ‘Part time in a drugs rehabilitation programme called Kick It! It’s for young offenders, and we have a drop-in at the Stolford Centre.’

  ‘I know of the place. Worthwhile.’

  ‘I teach stained-glass techniques,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not exactly at the forefront of the programme, but I think the classes help to take their mind off things and it keeps their hands busy. Even small achievements can do so much for their self-esteem and I do have a few successes. One of my students is running her own jewellery stall in Camden Market.’ Then Autumn flushed. ‘Now I’m boasting.’

  ‘Not at all. It’s interesting to hear.’

  Autumn checked her watch. She was reluctant to leave, but it was getting cold standing there.