The Chocolate Lovers' Christmas

by Carole Matthews

  Finally, he finds his voice. ‘Wha . . . wha . . . what are you doing?’ he splutters. ‘Is this a joke?’

  Nadia, who had dissolved into the background, steps forward. ‘It’s not a joke, Tarak. This is my insurance policy.’

  He stares at her and blinks a lot.

  ‘If you ever come near me again or even make a sleazy comment, then I’ll show these pictures to Anita,’ she tells him.

  ‘You wouldn’t,’ he says, eyes wide.

  ‘Try me.’

  I climb onto the bed behind Tarak and put my boobs on his head, dangling my whip over his shoulder. Chantal takes another snap.

  ‘Will you stop that!’ he yells.

  Actually, I’m quite getting into this now.

  ‘You’re going to get dressed and get out of here,’ Nadia says, taking charge. ‘And we’re never going to mention this again. From now on you’ll treat me with the respect that you should give to all of your employees. Especially one who is your sister-in-law, your own family.’

  I expect Tarak to kick off but, instead, he keeps his mouth shut and looks slightly shamefaced. I thought he’d be difficult, aggressive even. Instead, his shoulders slump. He looks like a man who is defeated. Someone whose bubble has been most categorically burst. I slide down and sit next to him.

  ‘Sorry we did this,’ I say. ‘But we didn’t know what else to do.’

  He looks up at Nadia, his piggy eyes bleak. ‘You could have just said no.’

  ‘I did,’ she counters. ‘Many times. You weren’t listening.’

  Tarak scratches his stubble. He looks a bit pitiful sitting there in his pants. ‘I won’t do it again,’ he promises. ‘I’ve learned my lesson. Can you delete those photographs? Anita would kill me if she saw them.’

  ‘No,’ Nadia says. ‘I’m going to keep them in a safe place. Whenever you think you might like to cheat on my sister, just remember that I have them tucked away.’

  He hangs his head.

  ‘My sister is a devoted wife, Tarak. I want you to love her as she deserves.’

  ‘I will,’ he says. ‘I definitely will.’

  ‘She adores you. She’s the mother of your boys. I don’t want you to take that for granted.’

  ‘Can I get dressed now?’ he asks.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can I go into the bathroom?’

  ‘No,’ Nadia says. Then she looks a bit embarrassed. ‘There’s another woman in there.’

  That makes him looked shocked again.

  ‘We’ll get out of the way,’ I tell him nicely. ‘Leave you to it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He crosses his arms over his body, clearly feeling very self-conscious now. I can empathise with that.

  ‘We could all get dressed and have a drink together,’ I suggest. ‘We might laugh about this.’

  ‘I’d rather not,’ Tarak says in the manner of a man who’d rather stick pins in his own eyes than share a glass of fizz with us. ‘If you don’t mind.’

  I stand up and shake his hand. ‘It’s been very nice meeting you.’

  The glare he gives me says that he doesn’t feel quite the same.

  ‘I have one more piece of bad news for you,’ I confess. Tarak braces himself. ‘This room is on your account. And the champagne.’

  ‘OK.’ Clearly a broken man.

  ‘Now we’ll go.’ I signal to Nadia and Chantal and we all back up towards the bathroom. ‘We won’t come out until we hear the door close. Give it a good slam.’

  ‘I don’t think that will be a problem,’ Tarak says.

  The door opens behind us and we tiptoe away. I give Tarak a last hesitant wave before we disappear inside. I’m sure I see him roll his eyes.

  We turn to Autumn and all do a silent air punch.

  ‘We did it,’ I whisper. ‘I actually think that we did it.’

  ‘Thank you, Lucy,’ Nadia whispers back.

  The Chocolate Lovers’ Club have pulled it off again. Mission accomplished. We have a group hug and do a little dance, trying not to make any noise.

  Then we wait, listening while Tarak gets dressed. Only when the door slams – and it does, very loudly – do we let out a celebratory cheer.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  When I’m dressed again, we all go downstairs to the bar. If things had gone badly with Tarak I’d have put this on his bill too but, in the end, he was suitably penitent.

  Around us are a few parties getting into the Christmas spirit – a boisterous group of estate agents, a cackling bunch of ladies who are heckling them. I can see late-night drinking ahead and red faces in the morning.

  Having used up all our emotional energy, we are having a much more sedate evening. That doesn’t stop us ordering some amazing cocktails, though. We’ve already polished off a vodka martini or two and are now onto mojitos laced with rum. Yum. I feel my equilibrium is starting to return. I think I was unsettled by how much, once I got going, I enjoyed prancing round in my underwear being photographed, tormenting a man. Somewhere deep inside I have a latent dominatrix. Yikes. I have another swig of mojito.

  Chantal raises her glass. ‘To the ladies of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club.’

  We all echo the toast and clink glasses together around the table.

  ‘I thought it was a completely hare-brained scheme, Lucy,’ she admits. ‘But, somehow, you’ve done it again.’

  ‘It’s my forte,’ I tell her.

  Then we all splutter with laughter.

  ‘I hope it works,’ says Nadia, who remains anxious despite the amount of cocktails she’s consumed. ‘I’ve still got to face Tarak again. I’m definitely not looking forward to seeing him at work next week.’

  ‘At least you’ve given him a fright,’ Chantal says. ‘He’d be a fool to come on to you now we have photographic evidence of his philandering. We’ve done the best we can.’

  ‘I appreciate it,’ Nadia says. ‘It’s down to me now.’

  ‘No one must ever see those photographs,’ I say. ‘I’ll put them on a plug-in as soon as I get home and then hide them somewhere very, very safe. I don’t want them falling into the wrong hands.’

  You know what it’s like these days. One slip up and they’re on the internet for everyone to see. Imagine that! I shudder at the thought. No one is getting an eyeful of these babies.

  ‘I’ve been dying to tell you all. I managed to book a cottage in the Lakes for Christmas,’ Chantal says. ‘Well, that’s what the blurb said. I’d call it a farmhouse. It’s massive. There’ll be room for all of us and a few more. Is everyone coming?’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ Autumn says. ‘Miles has Florence this Christmas and I’d love to bring them. Is there enough room?’

  ‘We can accommodate all comers,’ Chantal agrees. ‘We should all bring our other halves. Though Ted isn’t all that keen.’

  ‘Is Stacey coming?’

  ‘I think that’s part of the problem. He’s being very cagey. I don’t think he wants both of his women under one roof.’

  ‘I can’t say that I blame him.’

  Chantal grimaces. ‘I know. Tricky. I’m sure I can talk him round. What else can I do? We can’t leave Stacey behind.’

  I don’t point out that she’s not here with us now. And the question that remains unasked is how will they all cope under one roof for the first time?

  ‘I’ll call Clive and Tristan too,’ I say. To be honest, I need an excuse to speak to them to see if they’ve had any interest in Chocolate Heaven. I can only hope the answer to that is a resounding no. ‘I’ll ask if they want to join us.’

  ‘That would be great.’ Chantal turns to Nadia. She sounds overly bright when she asks, ‘Are you going to bring Jacob?’

  ‘I’d love to. Do you think he’d come?’

  ‘He’d love it, surely. Jacob knows how to get a party started,’ I offer. I just hope that Nadia and Chantal don’t come to blows over him. I know that Chantal is trying to work on her marriage, but there’s no doubt she can be a little bit possessive when
it comes to Jacob. She hasn’t said anything, but I do wonder how she feels about Jacob and Nadia getting closer.

  ‘He’s a great cook,’ Autumn adds. ‘Perhaps he can help with the food?’

  ‘It is going to be a full house,’ Chantal concedes. ‘I did think about getting caterers in to feed us all, but I’ll just fill up the Range Rover with supplies. I might not be a domestic goddess for the rest of the year, but I do love cooking Christmas dinner.’

  ‘We should help,’ I offer. ‘This sounds very expensive. Why don’t we all chip in what we can?’

  Chantal won’t hear of it. ‘I’ve got it covered. You’ve all been so fabulous this year; I’d like this to be my Christmas present to you. End of discussion.’

  ‘I hope it snows.’ Even to my own ears I sound wistful. A snowy Christmas in the countryside curled up with Crush. I can’t wait. I feel like hugging myself. Then I glance at my watch and think that I’d better be getting home. I don’t want him to feel as if I’ve abandoned him. Call it baggage from the Marcus era, but it’s always at the back of my mind that a boyfriend shouldn’t be left unattended for too long. I couldn’t leave Marcus alone for five minutes before his eyes – and hands – started wandering. Chantal had kindly texted Crush on my behalf – unbeknown to him – to say that I wouldn’t be too late.

  ‘I hope it snows after we get there,’ Chantal says. ‘I don’t want to be spending Christmas on the motorway. I’m planning that we’ll go up there on Christmas Eve. Everyone else can arrive whenever you can. We’ll set off as early in the day as possible to get everything ready.’

  ‘I should be able to come up at the same time as you,’ Autumn says.

  ‘You’re an angel.’

  ‘I think Crush finishes work at lunchtime, but I’ve got to stay and man Chocolate Heaven until five o’clock.’ No one will want to go into the frenzy of Christmas lacking in chocolate supplies, so no doubt I’ll have customers coming in right down to the wire. Plus I still have several dozen chocolate Santas to shift before then. ‘We can drive up together straight after that.’

  ‘Great. I’ll do a one-pot supper and you can eat whenever you arrive.’ Chantal rubs her hands excitedly. ‘I can’t wait. This will be the best Christmas ever.’

  Christmas. It’s just around the corner now and, for the first time in years, I’ll be spending it as a loved-up person, not a sad spinster. It will be so magical. I simply can’t wait.

  Chapter Seventy

  I’m exhausted when I get home. Emotionally and physically. Being mean is draining and quite depressing. I’d much rather be nice all the time. But, hopefully, tonight’s activities will have served their purpose.

  When I open the door to the flat, the scent of something wonderful cooking wafts its way towards me. In the living room, the table is set. There’s an arrangement of red roses in the middle, flanked by two candles, already lit, which are giving the flat a mellow glow. Soft music fills the room. Normally, we eat on a tray on our laps in a slightly comatose manner. But not tonight. This is the full-on romantic works and I am beyond happy. Any thoughts of that horrible hotel room are behind me. I am home and I am loved. It makes me want to lie on the floor and weep with joy.

  ‘Hey, Gorgeous,’ Crush shouts from the kitchen. ‘Dinner won’t be long.’

  I dump my coat and try to hide my wheelie case at the bottom of the coat rack. Most of the stuff will have to go back to Sirens unworn, but I might manage to get another wear of my revealing outfit because, tonight, lurrrrrve is clearly on the menu.

  In the kitchen, Crush wraps his arms round me. ‘Did you enjoy your cocktails with the girls?’

  ‘Yes. It was lovely to go out with them. We don’t do it enough.’ You cannot believe how guilty I feel about what I’ve really been up to. Mega guilty. More guilty than anyone has ever been about anything. I’m surprised that it’s not written all over my face. I try to deflect his attention from me. ‘What have you been doing today?’

  ‘Oh, not much.’

  But I can tell that Crush is also being slightly shifty. That always makes me think the worst. ‘What, though?’

  He must see the anxiety in my eyes as he sighs and says, ‘I did a bit of shopping.’

  That makes me brighten up. ‘Christmas shopping?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Ooo. Have you got me something nice?’

  Crush grins. ‘I think you’ll like it.’

  ‘I hope it’s something completely impractical. If it’s a food processor we could have an issue.’

  ‘It’s fair to say that it’s nothing useful.’

  ‘Good. I like the sound of it already.’

  ‘If you can just untwine yourself from me for a moment, then I’ll make sure that dinner isn’t burning.’

  ‘What are we having?’

  ‘Beef bourguignon, followed by chocolate mousse.’

  ‘Sounds fabulous.’

  ‘Are you ready to eat?’

  ‘Starving.’

  ‘You’ve got five minutes for a quick run round the shower, if you like.’

  ‘That would be great.’ I think in honour of all this effort, I should slip into something distinctly more slinky.

  He smacks my bottom. ‘Hurry up, then.’

  I salute him. ‘Yes, sir.’

  A bit furtively, I retrieve my wheelie case from its frankly inadequate hiding place, take it through to the bedroom and flick it open. As soon as I possibly can I must get Crush’s camera out and download or upload those pictures or whatever. If I had another five minutes, I’d do it now, but I don’t want to keep Crush waiting. Though that hard-gained photographic evidence needs to be hidden in a secret file that no one can ever find. I never want to be in a situation where I accidentally text one of those saucy snaps to my dad.

  Jumping in the shower, I stand and let the soothing water flow over me. My eyes are as heavy as lead. I’m so tired that I hope I don’t fall asleep during dinner. Crush has gone to such lovely trouble that I want to be the ideal companion.

  ‘Lucy!’ I hear him call.

  ‘Coming.’

  Before I can think better of it, I slip on my cheeky outfit again. He wanted to give me a surprise. Well, two can play at that game and this will give him a bit of a treat.

  Crush is putting dinner on the table when I emerge from the bedroom. It gives me a slightly unwanted flashback to me doing this not too many hours ago. I also check that, this time, we don’t have any unexpected guests that I wasn’t aware of before I bare my all. That would be a surprise too far. When I see that it is, indeed, only Crush in the room, I emerge to lean on the door frame in my stilettos and a filmy bit of naughty nothingness, rocking my best seductive pose.

  Crush glances up from the beef bourguignon and his eyes go out on stalks when he sees me. ‘Wow.’

  ‘I thought I’d slip into something more comfortable.’

  ‘It actually looks as if you’ve pretty much slipped out of everything.’

  I give him a twirl. ‘You like?’

  ‘I love.’ He comes and holds me, running his fingers over my ridiculous wisps of lace. ‘I’m actually going to struggle to concentrate on my food.’

  ‘Me too. But that will make it all the more fun.’

  ‘If you say so. Are you sure you’re going to be warm enough?’

  I look down at myself. I’m really not wearing very much at all and my nipples are certainly standing to attention. It would spoil the effect to go and get a cardigan, wouldn’t it? ‘Better turn the fire up a bit.’

  Crush laughs and I sit at the table.

  ‘Are you sure that you want to eat dressed like that?’ he asks. ‘I could put this back in the oven to keep warm and we can make love now.’

  ‘I’m ravenous. Both for your body and your beef bourguignon. Besides, this is a bit thrilling. You’ll be mad for me by the time we’ve eaten.’

  ‘I’m mad for you now, Gorgeous.’ But, nevertheless, he dishes out the dinner.

  With the beef he’s
made horseradish mash and green beans and it’s all very delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a very clever and wonderful boyfriend. I eat up every morsel and soon I’m bursting out of my flimsies even more.

  ‘My,’ Crush says, as he clears the plates, ‘you were hungry.’

  ‘I’ll clear up.’

  ‘Stay out of the kitchen, Lucy. I’m not sure that’s fire-resistant material. You might go up in flames.’

  ‘As if.’

  A second later he brings back a plate of chocolates and sets them in the middle of the table.

  ‘Yum. You’ve been buying chocolates from one of my competitors?’

  ‘With very good reason.’

  ‘They look amazing. Can’t wait to taste one.’ I reach out and Crush slaps my hand.

  ‘They’re for after dessert.’ He wags a finger at me. ‘Leave them alone. I just have one more thing to do to the mousse and I’ll be back.’

  I give them a longing look.

  ‘Leave,’ Crush reiterates. ‘Those are very special chocolates.’

  I laugh. ‘You can trust me.’

  ‘I’m warning you,’ he says sternly as he heads back towards the kitchen. ‘Leave them alone.’

  I pout after him, giving him my butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth look.

  He shakes his head, laughing.

  Butter might not melt in my mouth, but chocolate would. And I’m feeling very naughty and a little bit reckless. So, despite my fervent promises, I need one of these now and am willing to take the consequences. I eye all the chocolates greedily and then take one from the plate – the biggest there is – and pop it into my mouth.

  Chapter Seventy-One

  ‘Stop!’ Crush shouts and that makes me spin round in my seat. As I do, I bite down on the chocolate in my mouth and my teeth connect with something metallic. He’s across the room in two strides. ‘Don’t swallow it!’

  In my shock I swallow it whole. Of course I do.

  ‘Oh, hell!’ Crush says.

  I want to tell him that it will be OK, but I can’t as I’m starting to choke. Something is lodged in my throat. I cough and cough and cough, but nothing is happening. Whatever I’ve swallowed is very firmly stuck.