The Chocolate Lovers' Christmas

by Carole Matthews

  ‘I thought you’d run away with the circus,’ I say as she comes in. ‘Why didn’t you phone me? Where have you been?’

  Autumn looks shell-shocked. Her hair is escaping from her up-do and she’s a lot more dishevelled than when she left here this morning. The Armani suit is slightly crumpled.

  ‘How did it go?’

  ‘Chocolate,’ she says. ‘I need chocolate. And coffee. A strong one. Maybe a double brandy, too.’

  ‘I can do all of those,’ I say and hurry to fulfil my friend’s needs.

  ‘I have good news and bad news,’ she informs me.

  ‘I can’t bear the suspense.’ I hand over her drink and quickly nip into the back to give her a sly tot of brandy in an espresso cup. I have a quick one myself.

  When I take the brandy to her, there’s a queue forming at the counter with people stacked up with chocolate reindeers, Santas and God knows what else. I know this is Christmas but, bloody hell, can’t they see that I’ve got important business to attend to? If I don’t sort this out, then next year there won’t be anywhere for them to buy their festive chocolate fancies.

  I serve them as fast as I can and, the minute they’re gone, nip round to join Autumn.

  She’s collapsed into our favourite sofa, pale and tired-looking.

  I flop down next to her. ‘Was it hell?’

  ‘The meeting with the bank manager was tough,’ she admits. ‘He trawled through the paperwork you’d given me with a fine-tooth comb and I answered his queries as best I could, but I realised that I was hideously under-prepared. We should have gone together. You’re the one in the know when it comes to Chocolate Heaven.’ She lets out a shuddering sigh. ‘Despite that, he was quite impressed. There were a few questions outstanding and we agreed to schedule another meeting so that you could be there. I’d have needed to get some more money from my parents, too, but in principle he agreed to give me a loan.’

  ‘He did?’ Euphoria bursts forth from my heart. ‘I can’t believe it!’

  ‘Don’t get too excited, Lucy,’ Autumn warns. ‘I then went straight round to the estate agents to talk about making an offer.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I thought it would be a lovely surprise for you if I could come back with a deal that was pretty much sewn up.’

  ‘Tell me you did,’ I beg. ‘Tell me you did.’

  Her shoulders sag. ‘We’re too late.’

  ‘What? We can’t be.’

  ‘Someone else put in an offer as soon as their office opened this morning – before I’d even got anywhere near the bank. I finally managed to speak to Clive and Tristan as soon as I could, but they’ve accepted it.’

  ‘It’s only just gone on the market. As far as I know, no one has even come to view it.’

  ‘I guess it’s a good business. They don’t come up around here that often. Someone must have spotted a golden opportunity. As we did.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The agent wouldn’t say. Client confidentiality and all that, but they did tell me that a company had bought it. Clive confirmed it.’

  ‘Noooo.’ I can’t quite get my brain round this. We’re too late! My heart is in despair.

  If a company has bought it they might not care about this place at all. They might just want to get their hands on some prime-location property.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ Autumn looks as shattered as I feel.

  ‘How could they? Chocolate Heaven should be ours.’ It has my name all over it. Autumn and I would be the perfect pairing. I thought the bank would be the stumbling block. I didn’t reckon on anyone else putting in an offer before her and snatching it from under our noses.

  ‘I tried, Lucy. Clive understood our situation, but he’s decided to go with them. He went back to the agents and told them that someone else was interested, and the company who’s buying it simply upped their offer. Looks as if they have unlimited funds to play with and they’re determined to have it. I couldn’t compete with that. All I could do was leave my details with the agents in case anything goes wrong with this sale and it doesn’t go through. But, by all accounts, it’s full steam ahead. The agent said it’s a cash purchase and there was nothing to make them believe that contracts couldn’t be exchanged quickly. It could all be done and dusted at the start of the new year.’

  I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. A few short weeks and I could be out on my ear.

  Autumn looks wretched but, already, she’s resigned to our fate. ‘Clive was really apologetic.’

  That doesn’t make me feel much better.

  ‘I don’t know what else to do,’ she says. ‘I don’t think there’s anything else we can do.’

  ‘Wow.’ I feel as if I’m about to have a panic attack. ‘It looks like Chocolate Heaven will have a new owner at the beginning of next year.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Autumn looks totally miserable.

  ‘You did your best.’ I give her a hug and she holds on to me tightly.

  ‘I thought it would be great for us,’ she says. ‘We’d have made a super team. Now we’ll probably both have to find something else to do.’

  The thought fills me with dread. I wish Crush was here now. He’d know what to do, what to say. Instead, I’m facing going home to an empty flat and having a good cry by myself. I’ve never felt so lonely or so all at sea.

  Autumn wipes a tear from her eye. ‘What else can we do? Any bright ideas?’

  ‘Yes. There’s only one thing for it,’ I say, standing. ‘I’d better get us more chocolate.’

  Chapter Eighty

  Chantal stoked the fire in the grate. It was roaring away and she didn’t really need to fiddle with it, but she was anxious now.

  This morning, all the Christmas decorations had arrived from Harvey Nicks and it had taken her four hours to dress the tree and make the rest of the room pretty. It had been hard work and she could definitely have done with Jacob’s help, but he was busy with his own events this week and she had managed. Just about. The tree was eight feet tall and she’d had a good wrestle with that. If there had been more time, she would have got someone in to do it. Her forte definitely leaned more towards titivating than ground work. Still, that was the price you had to pay for coming late to the party and she’d put her shoulder into it.

  Now the lights twinkled and the tree looked glorious. Very festive. Chantal had decorated the mantelpiece with a garland of holly – artificial, but it was amazing. In some ways it was a shame that they weren’t staying here to enjoy it, but they could make the most of it for the next few days and it would still be here when they returned for New Year. Perhaps, if they weren’t all ready to kill each other after a week in the cottage, she’d throw a party. Suddenly, she felt as if there was much to celebrate in her life.

  She’d bought a few canapés from the deli and had opened a good bottle of wine. Ted’s favourite. Though she was already well into her second glass to calm her nerves and, if he didn’t come home soon, there was a very real danger that she’d have drunk the lot. There were also some of the Christmassy cakes from Chocolate Heaven for afterwards.

  She’d been watching the weather reports with trepidation and hoping that they would actually be able to get up to the cottage in the Lakes. It was quite bad up there compared to the few measly flakes that they classed as snow in London.

  The Discovery was sure-footed enough to tackle it, she was certain. However, Chantal was also slightly worried about the amount of luggage and boxes that had to be loaded into it. Not only was there all of the food and booze for the duration of their stay, but there was also Lana’s extensive paraphernalia to consider. If there was one thing she’d learned about having a baby it was that you could never leave the house again without being equipped as if you were going on an expedition.

  They were also taking the lavish amount of decorations that she’d ordered. The plan was that Stacey and Elsie were coming up with her in the car and, no doubt, they wouldn’t be travelling light either. At this rate, they were d
efinitely going to have to take both cars. If she was honest, Ted might prefer to follow them at his leisure with only some suitcases for company. It would be a very long journey if the weather was bad and there were two fractious babies in the car. She’d yet to broach it with him, but there was no putting it off now. Hence the good wine.

  Chantal glanced at the clock, nervously. It was late and Lana had already been in bed for a good while. He should be home any moment as he hadn’t texted to say that he’d be delayed at the office. It seemed to be back to their old pattern of Ted working well into the evening, avoiding her. This Christmas break would do them good, she was sure.

  She resisted the urge to pour another glass of wine and, to her relief, a few moments later she heard Ted’s key in the lock and waited patiently as he stripped off his coat and took his briefcase through to the study.

  ‘Hey,’ he said when he came into the room a few minutes later.

  ‘Long day?’

  He nodded. ‘Long enough.’

  ‘I’ve opened a bottle of the Rothschild you like.’

  He took the glass and gratefully gulped it down, then flopped into the sofa. ‘What’s this in aid of?’

  Today Ted looked his age and very tired. It couldn’t be easy trying to juggle the demands of two families.

  ‘Nothing. I thought you could put your feet up, relax.’

  He looked at her suspiciously, as well he might.

  She should wait a little longer until he’d had time to chill out, but she simply couldn’t. Instead, she rushed on. ‘We need to talk about our Christmas arrangements.’

  Ted closed his eyes. ‘I can’t do this, Chantal.’

  ‘I’ve organised everything. All you have to do is turn up. It’ll be great. I’ll show you the brochure for the place I’ve rented. It’s fabulous. So festive. If it snows it will be like a winter wonderland.’

  ‘I don’t mean Christmas.’ Ted opened his eyes and stared at her hard. ‘I can’t do this “happy families” thing. We’ve messed up, Chantal. You, me, Stacey. I can’t live in the middle of it all.’

  ‘It’s not easy. Of course not. But we’re picking our way through it, aren’t we?’

  ‘I can’t dress this up nicely, Chantal, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to. You might as well hear it straight.’

  Instinctively, she braced herself for what was coming.

  ‘I don’t love you anymore,’ he said flatly. ‘I love Stacey. It’s her I want to be with. I’ve taken a job in New York and they want me to start straight away. We’re going to be moving there as soon as Christmas is over.’

  The words hit her low.

  ‘You and Stacey?’

  He nodded. ‘And Elsie, of course.’

  ‘What about Lana?’

  ‘She’ll stay here with you. It will be better for her.’

  ‘She’s your daughter too. You can’t just leave her behind, Ted.’

  ‘Of course, I won’t. We’ll come back as often as we can. I’ll be here on business regularly. I’ll see as much of her as I possibly can.’

  ‘But you won’t be just around the corner.’ And that was heart-breaking. ‘Lana and Elsie are like sisters. They should grow up together.’

  ‘That’s what happens in fairy tales, Chantal. This is real life. The harsh reality is that this is an unworkable situation. We need some space.’

  ‘I’ve befriended Stacey. Taken her and Elsie under my wing. So have the girls at the Chocolate Lovers’ Club. I thought she was our friend.’

  ‘Well, that’s as may be. But I’ve asked her to come with me and she’s said yes.’ Ted faced her, his expression unreadable. ‘It’s never really ended between us,’ he admitted. ‘I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear, but that’s how it is.’

  ‘All the time that she and I have been friends? When you asked me to help her as she had no one else?’

  Ted had the grace to look slightly discomfited. ‘Yes.’

  ‘What a fool I’ve been,’ Chantal said. She wanted to rail and shout, but felt as if all the fight had flooded out of her. She’d battled against the odds to keep this marriage going for too long and, if she was honest, she wasn’t entirely surprised that it was over. It was just that she hadn’t seen it coming in this way.

  She’d anticipated a slow fizzling out, an amicable split, a forging of a new but lasting friendship. Perhaps Ted was right. That only happened in fairy tales. He was going. Abandoning his daughter, her too.

  ‘I’ll pack a bag now and go. No point in prolonging these things.’

  ‘We should have Christmas together,’ she said forlornly. ‘At least give me that. For Lana.’

  ‘There’s very little point.’ He stood up, decisively. ‘Lana’s so young that she won’t miss me this year. You’re the only one she needs.’

  It broke her heart to hear him speak like this. ‘Does she mean nothing to you?’

  ‘Of course she does. I adore her. But I also have to think what I need in all of this,’ he said, as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world. ‘We can sort out what we have to in the new year – the house, the finances. You won’t want for anything. This is the right thing to do. It will be a fresh start for both of us.’

  She looked at him, speechless. For a moment she thought she saw a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but it was fleeting.

  With that he walked out of the door and she stood staring after him, rooted to the spot. Was this it? Was this really it? Her marriage ended, just like that? It certainly looked like it.

  Chantal’s shoulders sagged and she said into the empty room, ‘Merry fucking Christmas, Ted.’

  Chapter Eighty-One

  Closing up Chocolate Heaven, I stand in the street beneath the falling snowflakes. I love snow and this should lift my spirits but it resolutely fails to do so.

  I’ve stayed late, cashing up, restocking the shelves, tidying up the counter display. All necessary, but also an avoidance technique so that I don’t have to go home to my cold and lonely flat. Actually, it’s not that cold if I’m truthful, but you know what I mean. It feels cold without Crush there. Even my ridiculous singing and dancing reindeer can no longer raise a smile.

  I stand back and look at the front of Chocolate Heaven. Christmas is now only a few days away and soon I could be locking up as manager for the very last time. My heart is as heavy as lead.

  Before I even know what I’m doing, I’m on the Tube and heading, not home, but towards Targa. I have to speak to Crush. I miss him so much that it’s a physical hurt. He has always been my rock, my support and I’m lost without him. It’s like Shaggy without Scooby. Ant without Dec. Unthinkable. I must find him. He will know what to say, what to do.

  Getting off half a dozen stops later, I’m being carried forth from the Underground on a wave of commuters. Targa’s offices are just behind the Tube station here and I walk up the road, hands in pockets, shivering against the cold.

  I don’t even know if Crush is working there today. He could be anywhere and, as he doesn’t reply to my texts, I have no way of finding out. I’m hoping that he is here and that the element of surprise will work in my favour. If he sees me – sodden and shivering – perhaps that will soften his heart towards me.

  There’s a newly opened coffee shop directly opposite the entrance to Targa’s offices and I prepare to take up station on one of the stools set at a counter in the window. I can’t fail to see him now. Unless he’s somewhere else entirely and, knowing my luck, he is.

  I order a cappuccino and scan the competition’s meagre choice of chocolate-based goodies. Chocolate Heaven would beat them hands down. And that brings another wave of sadness. It’s a great café, a great business and now someone else will benefit from all my hard work.

  Sitting in the window, I prepare for a lengthy stake-out of my former employer’s premises. I have hope in my heart. When Crush emerges from his daily toil, I’ll dash out and stand in front of him doing the I’m-just-a-girl-standing-in-front-of-a-boy thing and
it will hit him like a hammer how much he’s missed me and he’ll be overwhelmed with love for me once more and we’ll fall into each other’s arms. Hurrah! Happy ending. Love, love, love!

  We could be back at my flat and having sex under the Christmas tree while the night is still young. Hope is a truly wonderful thing.

  But I’m only halfway down my coffee when a raucous party bursts out of the main doors of Targa and spills out into the street. I recognise most of the faces instantly and one more than all. In the middle of the fray, wearing a pink paper hat and puffing into a rainbow-coloured party blower with a pink feather on the end is my beloved Crush. He’s also wearing a pink feather boa. Normally, I like a man in touch with his feminine side but he’s enjoying himself cavorting down the road in his feathers so much that I die inside a little bit. He’s having such fun, a great time without me. He’s not sitting moping in an overly lit café in a stalkery way, with a lukewarm cappuccino and an inadequate selection of chocolate products.

  It must have been the office Christmas lunch today. Always an excuse for high-jinks. As if one was ever needed at Targa. There was always too much wine drunk, too many colleagues taking risks with their employment status or their future promotion chances. There was always lots of snogging in the stationery cupboard afterwards and, inevitably, a call needed for the photocopier engineer the next day.

  And now Crush – my Crush – is right in the middle of it.

  A woman – who I don’t recognise – dances in front of him and then grabs the end of his feather boa. Crush puts up no resistance at all as she leads him further along the pavement and towards the bar that is just a few doors down from Targa. It seems as if the party isn’t yet over.

  I know only too well what could go on tonight. Crush obviously sees himself as a single man now and who can blame him? This woman probably isn’t a complete fuck-up. She probably has a successful career at Targa, her own place which isn’t subsidised by her mother and can send sex texts without them going to her dad by mistake. She’ll make a much more suitable girlfriend for Aiden Holby than I ever have.