The Chocolate Lovers' Christmas

by Carole Matthews

  But was that all there was to it? There was a certain chemistry between her and Jacob – she was sure – but it hadn’t progressed beyond a certain level. They were, perhaps, a little more than friends now, but it had never moved to anything more intimate between them. She wondered if he was deliberately taking it slowly. Certainly, if he’d tried to rush her into anything then that would have sent her running for the hills. Jacob was a sensitive man and he couldn’t fail to be aware of that. Was he simply sitting back, biding his time and waiting for her to make the first move?

  How hard this all was. With the supposed wisdom of age you would have thought that this dating business would become easier. But the older you got there seemed to be even more complications.

  She didn’t want to be alone for the rest of her days, but it would also be difficult to let another man into her life after what had happened with Toby. He’d been so secretive and his gambling addiction had brought them to the brink of destruction. It would have to be a very special man to persuade her to let her guard down again. There had been so many lies in her marriage that it had soured her outlook. Plus she had Lewis to consider. He was four now and becoming increasingly aware of his surroundings. Lewis adored Jacob, but she couldn’t risk getting close to another man unless she was absolutely sure that he was going to stay around. Lewis had suffered one major loss in his little life; she couldn’t risk bringing another one to his door.

  She glanced across at Jacob, curled up on the sofa next to her, a bowl of Kettle Chips forming a barrier between them. He was a handsome man with his fair hair and striking blue eyes. He had a strong, straight nose, high cheekbones and a fine jaw. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans – both expensive-looking, classy. Jacob was always beautifully groomed. He was the sort of man that advertising agencies chose for aftershave campaigns. He was kind, too, and easy company. No wonder Chantal had carried a torch for him.

  Perhaps that was also part of the problem. Chantal had enjoyed a close relationship with him. A fling they both said, but she knew it was more than that. There had been strong feelings between them and there were occasions when she couldn’t help but think that there was still something between them. Sometimes she caught Chantal looking at him or vice-versa and wondered if it was all as in the past as they insisted. There was a warmth and an affection in both of their faces when they looked at each other that they clearly found hard to hide. It worried her. If they became more than friends would she always be thinking of what he’d had with Chantal?

  He sensed her staring at him and turned towards her. ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said.

  ‘You’re not enjoying the film?’ He looked concerned. Possibly because it was his choice.

  In her opinion he’d picked wisely. It was a non-committal thriller. No warnings at the beginning for sex, violence or swearing. That suited her fine. Generally, she preferred a nice rom-com, but hadn’t been able to face watching them since Toby died. She certainly wasn’t at the stage with Jacob where she would have felt comfortable crying at a film in front of him.

  ‘I’ve kind of lost track of it,’ she admitted.

  ‘Do you want me to rewind it?’

  She shook her head. To be honest, she was tired now. Lewis had been in bed for hours and she very much wanted to be in her bed too. Alone.

  ‘I can stop it,’ Jacob said. ‘I’ve seen it before, anyway. I know how it ends.’

  ‘Oh.’ She smiled at that. ‘If you don’t mind.’

  ‘I’ll leave the DVD with you. It’s a good film. You might feel more like watching it another day.’

  ‘Thanks, Jacob. You’re very sweet.’

  ‘No worries,’ he said. ‘I’ll make a move.’

  It was dark out there, cold and possibly snowing. It seemed cruel to turn Jacob out into the night. He’d have to walk up to the Tube, which was quite a hike and he lived several stops away from her. Should she offer him the sofa to stay over? Would that take them another step further towards a relationship? Would she really be able to go upstairs and leave him down here with nothing but a blanket and a pillow for company?

  Jacob stood and stretched. Then, while she wrestled with her indecision, he found his boots and slipped them back on.

  ‘I’ll call you later in the week,’ he said, heading towards the door.

  ‘Thanks, Jacob,’ she said. ‘Sorry that I’ve not been brilliant company tonight. I’ve been thinking about the job at my brother-in-law’s shop and other stuff.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ he said. ‘I understand.’

  And that was the problem with Jacob; he always was so nice, so very understanding.

  ‘You’ve got a lot to think about. But I’m glad that you’re in touch with your family again.’

  ‘Me too,’ she confessed. Jacob wasn’t to know the complications that lurked within.

  She followed him to the door and, when he opened it a flurry of snow blew in.

  ‘Wow,’ he said, closing it quickly. ‘It’s getting a bit wild out there. I’ll say goodnight here and then make a break for it.’ He put his hands on her arms and, maybe it was just her imagination, but she felt as if they lingered there for a second or two longer than usual. His touch was strong, comforting. What would it feel like, she wondered, to be held in those arms? Properly held. Like a woman once more.

  She hadn’t missed sex as such, but she’d sorely missed the warmth of a man’s embrace. If she asked, she knew that Jacob would just spend the night holding her. Could she risk opening herself up to that?

  He kissed her forehead, his lips warm.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to stay, not to go home.

  Then her phone rang and, flustered, she fumbled for it. Jacob let his arms fall. When she saw the display, she frowned. ‘It’s Autumn. It’s unlike her to call so late.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  I leave the warmth of Crush’s side to dash over to Autumn’s flat. Nadia’s already with Autumn and Chantal turns up in a taxi right behind me. We stand together, grim-faced and worried, as I press the intercom.

  ‘Autumn’s in a terrible state,’ Nadia whispers when she opens the door to us. ‘She rang me from Rich’s flat and I dashed straight over there. She shouldn’t have gone there by herself. It took me ages to get her to stop crying and coax her back here. I didn’t want to leave her alone.’ She lowers her voice further. ‘I was afraid she might do something stupid or harm herself.’

  We all exchange a worried glance. We all know that Autumn is struggling, but I don’t think we realised quite how bad she is.

  ‘I’m glad you rang us,’ Chantal says.

  ‘I didn’t know what else to do,’ Nadia admits. ‘When I was at my blackest after Toby died it was only the fact that I had to be there for Lewis which got me through it. Autumn doesn’t have that.’

  ‘Oh, baby.’ I sit next to Autumn on the sofa where she’s curled up into the cushions and hug her. Her eyes are swollen, her face blotchy from weeping. ‘Don’t cry. Don’t cry.’ I wipe the tears from her cheeks with the end of my sleeve.

  Autumn cries some more and I hold on as tight as I can.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she says, tearfully. ‘What can I do? He’s gone and he’ll never come back.’

  ‘We’re here now,’ I soothe her. ‘We’ll look after you.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have dragged you all out in the middle of the night,’ she sobs.

  ‘That’s what friends are for.’ Nadia puts her arm round Autumn.

  ‘Hot chocolate,’ I suggest. ‘It’s the only remedy. I’ll do the honours.’

  I don’t even need to ask if Autumn has any; it’s a given.

  ‘Come on.’ Nadia gently leads Autumn into her bedroom. ‘I’ll help you into your pyjamas.’

  In the kitchen cupboard Autumn – as I knew she would – has a selection of Prestat hot chocolate. I choose the box of spicy cinnamon flakes and set a pan of milk on the hob. Soon the warming aroma is filling the place. In the livin
g room, Chantal has switched on the gas fire and it’s feeling much more cosy. Autumn and Nadia come back and Autumn is looking much better now that she’s wrapped in her fluffy dressing gown and slippers. We all snuggle down on the sofas together, nursing our chocolate.

  ‘Have you called Addison?’ I ask.

  Autumn shakes her head. ‘I can’t tell him that I went to Rich’s apartment. Addison hates me even talking about him. He may be gone, but he’s my brother. What else can I do? Addison will only start ranting about what a loser he was. I can understand that. I know only too well what he was like, but that doesn’t stop me missing him like crazy and I can’t bear to hear it about him.’

  Chantal and I exchange a worried glance. I’m not sure that Autumn and Addison are getting along all that well at the moment. There’s very little talk of any upcoming wedding plans. She looks very forlorn and I think it’s telling that she’s turned to us first.

  ‘He has to do a presentation in the morning,’ she adds. ‘There’s no point in disturbing him. I knew you’d be here for me.’

  ‘Of course we are,’ Nadia says.

  ‘This isn’t the end to your romantic evening that you envisaged, Chantal,’ Autumn apologises. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Ha,’ Chantal laughs. ‘I certainly don’t think that it’s the ending Ted had in mind. I think the fact that I haven’t had my bikini line waxed since Lana has been born tells you what is or isn’t on my mind! I’m rocking the eighties vibe, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘Crush and I haven’t made love for weeks,’ I confess. ‘We’re just too busy. But I have tried. I lay on the living-room floor covered in nothing but chocolate body paint.’

  Nadia laughs out loud. ‘Lucy, you didn’t!’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I fell asleep waiting for him and then he brought two of his sales reps home, who got an eyeful. That didn’t turn out to be quite the night of passion I had planned, either.’

  At least my confession brings a smile to Autumn’s weary face. Then she stifles a yawn.

  ‘You should go to bed,’ I say. ‘You look worn out, but I don’t want to leave you on your own. Shall I stay with you?’

  ‘Would you mind, Lucy?’

  ‘Of course not.’ I push away the vision of Crush – naked and warm – waiting in bed for me. He’ll understand that I have to be here for my friend in her hour of need.

  ‘I should get back to my baby boy,’ Nadia says. ‘You don’t mind me going?’

  Autumn shakes her head. ‘I’m feeling much better now. Really.’

  ‘Who’s looking after Lewis?’ I ask.

  Nadia looks more than a little coy when she says, ‘Jacob was at my place, watching a film. He was just about to go home when Autumn called. He’s staying over now.’

  Chantal and I raise our eyebrows.

  ‘On the sofa.’

  Our eyebrows rise further.

  ‘Sofa,’ she stresses. ‘Nothing more.’

  ‘You must have a will of iron,’ Chantal notes. ‘There was a time when I couldn’t have said no to Jacob.’

  ‘I’m not you,’ Nadia says crisply. ‘And there was a time when you couldn’t say no to anyone.’

  Chantal doesn’t take offence, but merely laughs. ‘So true. My, how times change.’

  ‘Autumn’s exhausted, poor love.’ I give her a sympathetic look. Her face is pale with tiredness. ‘She doesn’t need all of us here. It’s late. I’ll stay. You should both head home.’

  I text Crush and let him know what’s happening. He wanted to come over with me too to make sure that Autumn was all right, but he has a busy day at work tomorrow and I knew that the other girls would be here.

  He texts back: I luv u. Take care. xx

  In spite of it being cold and the seriousness of the situation, it gives me a warm glow to know that he’s there for me.

  ‘We can make up the spare bed,’ Autumn says, wearily.

  ‘Just give me a blanket, I’ll take the sofa. I’m so tired that I could sleep on a clothes line.’ I’ll miss snuggling up to Crush, putting my cold feet on him. When I get out of the bed in the night, he rolls over to keep my side warm until I get back in. How caring is that? But my friend needs one of us here and Chantal and Nadia have more pressing commitments than me.

  So the other girls kiss us both and hug Autumn to bits, then they leave and I rummage in the airing cupboard until I find some spare blankets. I usher Autumn from the sofa, helping her to the bedroom before tucking her into bed. When she’s snuggled down, I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek as if she’s a child.

  ‘Thanks, Lucy,’ she says. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you all.’

  ‘We’re always here for you. Get some sleep.’ I turn off the light and head to the sofa. ‘You’ll feel better in the morning.’

  Then I head back to the sofa and curl up under the blankets, groaning as I realise that I have to be up in a few short hours. I pull the blankets around me and try to imagine that they’re Crush’s arms.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Crush and I have already spoken this morning, but before I head into the Tube, I send him a sex text. This is how modern I am.

  Missing you, big boy! I can’t wait until I see you tonight. Perhaps we can get naked and naughty in the shower??? L : ) xx

  Ha! Let him think about that for the rest of today.

  The Underground from Autumn’s place to Chocolate Heaven is hell on earth. Damp, sweaty bodies all pressed up against each other. But I cheer up my journey by imagining what Crush and I could be doing if we were in bed and not on separate journeys on our way to work. I’m one of the lucky ones who’s managed to get a seat and I let my eyes close for a second. And, of course, almost miss my stop.

  At the other end, I bolt out of the station hurrying along towards Chocolate Heaven to open up. As I get my key in the lock, my phone pings.

  I take it that text wasn’t for me, Lucy. Your father.

  Gah.

  Still, it could have been worse. I should have known that anything remotely sexy would only end up going to Crush’s mother or the CEO of Targa or someone. At least it was only Dad and he can’t really take the moral high ground with me right now. My mother and he were briefly reconciled after my non-wedding. It was a difficult time, but she abandoned her millionaire boyfriend in Spain and her lavish lifestyle and came home to Dad – forgetting in that second flush of love that he is tighter than two coats of paint. It was never going to last. He only had to start to query the amount my mother was spending, look askance at every new carrier bag that entered the house and she wanted to run for the hills. My mother, given very little encouragement, could turn a failing economy round single-handedly while my father makes Scrooge look profligate. Inevitably, they’ve parted – once again. Mum has moved to Brighton, joined a dating agency for elderly millionaires and is steadily working her way through the ones who live on the south coast. Dad has fallen for another woman who is barely older than me. Last time it was The Hairdresser. This time she is a thirty-five-year-old Pilates instructor and has the figure of a pencil.

  Still, while I know more than I need to about my parents’ relationships, they need to know nothing about my own. So it’s probably best in future that I don’t commit what I’d like to be doing with my loved one to any electronic device.

  As it’s still early, Chocolate Heaven won’t be busy for a little while, so I have a short time to gather my thoughts and eat breakfast. There is a pain au chocolat and a double espresso with my name on it. I take them to one of the sofas and rest for a minute. I was so tired that I did manage to sleep on Autumn’s sofa last night, but my back’s aching and there’s a crick in my neck.

  There’s also been a fresh fall of sleety snow this morning and I think that’s keeping people indoors for the time being. If I didn’t have to be here, I’d be reluctant to go out too. The roads are clearer now as it never lasts that long in London, but the pavements are still lethal. I di
dn’t even go home, but ran round the shower at Autumn’s this morning and borrowed some clean knickers and a flowery shirt.

  She seems to be holding up OK this morning. It’s coming up to Christmas and that always seems to make these things worse, doesn’t it? The other thing that worries me is that by the time I left, she still hadn’t spoken to Addison. Not good.

  My eyes are gritty and my lids feel as if they’re sandpapering my eyeballs. I might have managed a few hours of sleep, but it clearly wasn’t enough. Obviously more sugar is required.

  Now, I’m propping up the counter and trying not to slide into a deep sleep. I’m on my third cup of strong coffee and my second pain au chocolat, but they are failing to provide the energy I need. I’ve had a little rush of customers and it’s a good job that the sofas are now fully occupied as I’d be tempted to shut up shop and lie down for a little while. In an attempt at revitalisation, I turn up the volume of the Christmas songs and help myself to a single-origin truffle, dusted with cocoa powder to try to boost my vitamin levels. It’s a well-known fact that chocolate is, in fact, medicine. It’s packed with vitamin wotsit and anti-oxidant thingies. All very good for you. Essential. Chocolate is better for you than red wine. True fact. Of course, if you opt for the chocolate/red wine combo then it’s practically the same as going to a health spa.

  Other upside is that you don’t usually end up going to bed with someone unsuitable as a result of an excess of chocolate, whereas an excess of red wine is, as proven on many occasions, the proverbial minefield.

  Chantal barges through the door with the buggy. Here is my friend who is living proof of that.

  ‘Wow,’ I say. ‘This is early for you.’