Christmas Wishes at the Chocolate Shop

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Christmas Wishes at the Chocolate Shop Page 9

by Jessica Redland


  ‘Glad to hear it because you deserve better than that.’ Matt rolled his eyes ruefully. ‘Says the man whose fiancée stropped off down the street earlier and stuck her finger up at him.’

  I smiled at him. ‘We do pick ’em, eh? Looks like we’ve both got our work cut out for this evening, placating our stroppy other halves.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’ Matt paused and looked deep into my eyes. ‘You’ve got my number. If he does get nasty with you tonight or any other time, please call me and I’ll be there.’

  I was genuinely touched that he cared. ‘Thank you. I’m sure it won’t come to that, but I really appreciate it and everything you’ve done today.’

  ‘That’s what new friends are for,’ he said, referencing my earlier comment. ‘And I’m happy to be one of yours which means we need to get together again at some point. Maybe we could go on a double date.’ He laughed. ‘Maybe not. I’d happily do beers with you and Jodie, though, if you’d be up for that.’

  ‘Definitely.’ I walked him to the door. ‘Oh my God! I haven’t paid you! What do I owe you?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Matt! You’ve been here for hours. I can’t not pay you.’

  He paused for a moment, put his tools down, then nodded. ‘Tell you what. You said you were going to be running chocolate-making events when the shop’s up and running. How about you let my nieces be your first customers, free of charge?’

  ‘Of course they can, but that’s nothing compared to what you’ve done.’

  ‘I’m not taking your money. You have a new business and you’ll need every penny.’

  ‘At least let me pay you for the parts, even if you won’t take money for your labour.’

  He shook his head. ‘Spares I had at the farm.’

  ‘Matt!’

  ‘Okay. Two places on your first chocolate-making event, and a slab of the first bar of chocolate you make. That’s my final offer. And if you don’t accept it, I’ll go back upstairs and dismantle it all.’

  ‘You drive a hard bargain, but okay.’ I put my hand out to shake on the deal and, as his skin touched mine, a jolt of electricity fizzed through me. I swear he felt it too because he quickly dropped my hand and muttered something about his nieces and bedtime stories. He bashed into his toolbox and then the doorframe in his haste to leave.

  I watched him hurrying down Castle Street and bit my lip. Oh crap! What just happened?

  11

  After Matt left, I needed a few minutes to compose myself before I returned to the flat otherwise Ricky and I were likely to have a blazing row in front of Jodie. Moving to Whitsborough Bay was her long-held dream and no way did I want her lasting memory of her first day to be blighted by us fighting.

  I was vacuuming in the storeroom when Jodie appeared and pressed the ‘stop’ button. ‘You don’t need to hide out in here,’ she said gently. ‘He’s gone. I told him he was a twat and he stormed out.’

  ‘I’m sorry you had to see that and even more sorry about leaving you with him.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. I can handle myself. And you’re not the one who needs to apologise. That was all Ricky. I know I said earlier that I smelled trouble in paradise but is that how it’s been between you since you moved here?’ Her brow was furrowed with obvious concern.

  I shrugged and sighed. ‘That little show upstairs was something new, but it hasn’t been great. I told you some of it earlier, but there’s more.’

  ‘I think we’d better go back upstairs and crack open another bottle each while you tell me all about it.’

  After telling Jodie everything that had happened, I felt a lot more positive. The thing I’d always loved about her was that she recognised when it was appropriate to dish out advice and when it was best to listen and, today, I’d needed her to listen, empathise and help me find a way forward which was exactly what she’d done.

  Feeling ready to face the music, I stood up. ‘Best get this over with. Thanks for listening.’

  ‘Any time. If you want to talk again or even stay the night, I’m here for you.’

  We hugged goodbye and I headed back to Coral Court, feeling steadily more nervous with each step I took. There’d been no calls or texts from Ricky and I had no idea whether that was a good or bad sign.

  When I unlocked the door to number twenty-four shortly after seven, I was met with silence. The lack of footwear in the middle of the hall suggested he wasn’t home. A quick look round the flat – still as tidy as I’d left it – confirmed he hadn’t been back all day.

  I texted Jodie to confirm I was home with no sign of Ricky and I poised my fingers over my phone to text Ricky but what would I say? I didn’t want to start an argument by text and there was no way I was going to apologise when I’d done nothing wrong. Hopefully he’d stay over at Smurf’s, giving us both a chance to calm down.

  Twenty minutes later, I was tucking into a cheese toastie when I heard his key in the lock and my stomach flopped to the floor. Appetite gone, I put the plate on the floor and waited. I heard him crashing around in the bathroom and then the bedroom, opening and slamming closed the wardrobe doors and drawers. I remained silent and rigid on the sofa, wondering if he might be packing his stuff ready to leave me. Right now, the thought wasn’t altogether unappealing.

  Next minute, the lounge door burst open and he stopped dead when he clocked me. He was wearing a fresh shirt and jeans suggesting he’d come home to change rather than to pack to leave.

  ‘Wasn’t expecting to see you here,’ he snarled. ‘Thought you’d be out with your new man.’

  My jaw tightened. ‘What new man?’

  ‘The one with the girly hair.’

  ‘He does not have girly hair and why would I be out with him?’

  ‘I don’t know. Er, maybe because you were all over him earlier.’ He put on a high-pitched voice which was presumably meant to be me. ‘Ooh, Matt, thank you for sorting out my emergency plumbing. You’re my hero. You can read me a bedtime story anytime.’

  ‘I didn’t say any of those things.’ Although the bedtime story thing hadn’t been far off. Why had I said that? I could understand why that particular comment might have inflamed him but he was being childish about the rest of it.

  ‘You were the same with that bloody Neil Winters. All over each other.’ He adopted another silly accent. ‘Ooh, stop it Charlee. You’re such a naughty girl calling me Mr Winters when you really must call me Neil. Giggle, giggle, simper, simper.’

  ‘That’s pathetic.’

  ‘Is it now? I’ll tell you what’s pathetic. It’s that every time you’re around another man, it’s like I cease to exist. You were the same with Badger.’

  I stared at him, wide-eyed. ‘Your mate Badger?’

  ‘Yes! It’s bad enough you flirting with neighbours and strangers but to try it on with one of my mates while I’m right there in the pub… that’s just low.’

  I could barely believe what I was hearing. ‘I spoke to Badger for five minutes, if that. Once. ONCE! He asked me what sort of shop I was planning to open which is more conversation than I’ve ever managed out of any of your bitchy female friends.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right. Flirt round the lads and insult the lasses. You needn’t think I’m asking you to join us again.’

  ‘Good, because I don’t want to. And don’t you ever manhandle me like that again. I’m not your possession.’

  ‘But you are my girlfriend and you weren’t behaving like it.’

  I glared at him but I’d run out of steam. How could you reason with someone who was being so unreasonable?

  ‘And another thing…’ he cried.

  He paced up and down and shouted at me while I sank further into the sofa clinging onto a cushion, as though it was my armour against the verbal punches he kept throwing. He moved on from my alleged flirting to rehash the same old, tired story about money and how I expected him to support me with hours of unpaid labour yet I expected him to go halves on the rent and b
ills. There were so many lies in his rants that I stopped listening.

  The beep of a text arriving on his phone cut him off mid-flow. He looked down at his screen and, whatever he saw, it amused him. The frown disappeared, the hunched shoulders softened and I saw a glimpse of the man I fell in love with. It was reassuring to see he was still in there. It stopped me from spilling out the words that were circling round my mind: If I annoy you that much, why don’t you do us both a favour and leave?

  ‘I’m going out with Smurf,’ he said, his gruff tone back. ‘I’ll be late.’

  He’d slammed the lounge door behind him before I could speak which was probably just as well as I couldn’t bring myself to wish him a good evening.

  With a sigh, I rolled off the sofa, tipped the remnants of my toasties into the kitchen bin and made a mug of tea. My mind was reeling with where this left us. I was still fuming with Ricky’s earlier behaviour and he hadn’t endeared himself to me just now either. So much seemed to have been strained since we’d moved to Whitsborough Bay and what I had to try to work out was whether it was the stress of all the changes we were going through or whether it was us who’d changed and that was what was causing the tension.

  I picked up my phone and scrolled through the photos I’d taken of Ricky and the two of us together in the early days before Nanna received her prognosis. We’d been so happy then. After Nanna died, he was so thoughtful and caring. When he told me he loved me, I really thought my future was mapped out. Could we find our way back to that? I wasn’t sure.

  If I hadn’t been still awake when Ricky crashed into the flat shortly after half two in the morning, he’d definitely have woken me up. I lay on my side in the darkness listening to him stumbling about and dropping things.

  He burst into the bedroom and I gagged at the stench of drink emanating from him as he undressed.

  ‘You awake?’ he slurred.

  I ignored him.

  ‘I’m sorry, Charlee. Love you.’

  I kept my eyes tightly closed, the duvet clutched against my chest as he snuggled up to me, his arm thrust over me, his erection pressing against my back. After that disgraceful display, he seriously expected sex?

  Moments later, I relaxed as I heard his piggy snores. I shoved him off me and curled up on the sofa instead with a throw for warmth.

  At 7.00 a.m. I quietly closed the door behind me and walked to the shop, the lack of sleep making me feel lightheaded. I hadn’t made any decisions about our future. If I was still seeking business premises and if Jodie hadn’t moved to Whitsborough Bay, I might have put my uncertainty down to fear of being alone but I didn’t feel that way anymore. I was in a good position to build a new life without Ricky in it. The question was whether I wanted to.

  I wondered whether his change in behaviour was the bad influence of his old school friends. I’d seen what they were like: loud and immature. Would he get it out of his system and go back to the Ricky I fell in love with or was this who he really was? I didn’t like this version of Ricky and there was no future for us if this version was here to stay.

  When I arrived back at the Coral Court that evening, having ignored a barrage of texts from Ricky across the day, I was surprised to find him in the kitchen and even more shocked that he’d cooked a lasagne. I’m not quite sure how he created so much mess given that the tomato sauce and cheese sauce both came out of a jar, but I pushed that thought aside and gave him credit for making an effort.

  ‘I bought you a peace offering,’ he said, handing me a paper bag with a dollop of tomato sauce on it. ‘I know I’m not meant to be spending money but you were worth it to show how sorry I am.’

  I removed an A5 sketchpad with a cupcake on the front and a pretty rose gold retractable pencil.

  ‘I thought you could use it to draw some more of your chocolate ideas,’ he suggested.

  It was a lovely gift and thoughtful too but I wasn’t going to fling my arms round him and instantly forgive him. I needed words to accompany the gift.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, my voice flat, my eyebrows raised.

  ‘I’m really sorry about yesterday. I don’t know what came over me.’

  ‘Neither do I and I didn’t like it one little bit.’

  He looked momentarily taken aback at my sharp tone and I wondered if he was going to turn it back on me again but, instead, he nodded. ‘I probably haven’t been the best boyfriend since you moved here. I’ve spent too much time with the lads and at work and not enough time with you. I should have helped you more at the shop. I forgot how much I struggled to settle when I first moved to Hull so it can’t have been easy for you moving here. I love you so much, Charlee. Can we forget about the past month and go back to how things used to be?’

  It was everything I’d hoped he’d say but I didn’t feel entirely convinced. The words were good, but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than me.

  I put the pad and pencil back in the paper bag and lay them down on the worktop. ‘Thank you for the gift. It’s very thoughtful. And thank you for the apology. I’d like to go back to how things were but I don’t know whether we can. You’ve shown me a side of you that I didn’t know existed and I really didn’t like it.’

  ‘I’m sorry. That’s not who I am. I’m just shattered with doing so much overtime. Please don’t say it’s over.’

  I studied his face, noting how lost and vulnerable he looked at that moment and my heart won the argument with my head. ‘It’s not over but—’

  ‘Thank you.’ He rushed towards me as though he was going to hug or kiss me but I stepped back.

  ‘I haven’t finished. I have conditions.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘It’s not over yet but if you ever grab me like you did yesterday, it will be. If you ever accuse me of flirting with another man, it will be. And if you spend every night working or out with the lads and make no quality time for us, it will be. Do I make myself clear?’ My voice had a hard edge to it but it was necessary to ensure he was in no doubt as to how precarious our future together was. I don’t like to think of it as a threat but I suppose it was.

  ‘That all sounds reasonable. Thank you.’

  I nodded. ‘The lasagne smells good. Do I have time for a shower before we eat?’

  ‘It’ll be ready in twenty minutes.’ He must have noticed my eyes flicking round the mess because he added, ‘And I’ll use that time to clear up.’

  Over the next four evenings, I’d never known Ricky to be so attentive. He still worked late – the financial worries hadn’t gone away – but he promised me he’d finish at seven and he did. I made sure I didn’t work beyond seven either. It had to work both ways.

  I felt bad leaving Jodie on her own each evening but she joked she’d had enough of my company by then and was happy to relax in the flat in front of the TV. She had it looking lovely now that she’d hung pictures on the walls and all those lovely personal details like books and candles that made somewhere feel homely.

  Each evening, Ricky and I cooked together then curled up on the sofa after we’d eaten. He showed an interest in my chocolate designs and flavours and even made a few good suggestions of his own.

  There was no mention of nights out with the lads but there was also no mention of helping me out at the shop and that was fine. Jodie and I had it under control and now that she was going to be working for me, it felt like it was our project rather than mine and Ricky’s.

  On Thursday night, I suggested that he might like to go out with Smurf and the lads the following night and I’d go out with Jodie. I’d never wanted to stop him seeing his mates; I just wanted him to find a balance and he’d done that.

  But the following week, the overtime slipped to finishing at eight and there was a mid-week night out with the lads. The week after, it was the same and, by the final week in November, we were back to how it had been before the bust-up. I should have made an issue of it but the truth was it worked out well for me. I’d set Saturday 3rd December as opening d
ay and I was way behind so I needed every hour I could grab because it wasn’t just getting the shop ready and making the stock; it was getting the shop Christmas-ready.

  12

  ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,’ Jodie sang. ‘Ta-dah! Charlee’s Chocolates now has a beautiful tree.’ She stepped back to admire her handiwork. The shop had double-fronted bay windows which meant plenty of space to create two large window displays. We’d decided to put an artificial tree in one and decorate it with a combination of orange, gold, and brown baubles, courtesy of Nanna and her many colour schemes, with wrapped chocolates either dangling from the branches or nestling between them.

  I grinned. ‘It looks stunning. Thanks, Jodie.’

  ‘Not as stunning as your display, but I’m pleased with it.’

  We both looked towards the other window. I’d moulded a giant chocolate Santa and snowman as my centre pieces, standing in front of a wooden fireplace that Matt had helped me build and paint. Empty gift-wrapped boxes were piled up either side of the fire and there were some spilling out of a hessian Santa sack. Samples of the Christmas chocolates I’d created filled the space in front of the chocolate figures, nestled among crumpled pieces of red, gold and green tissue paper.

  ‘You’re so talented,’ Sarah said, coming down from the stepladder from which she’d been stringing fairy lights across my wooden display units and dressers. ‘Some of those designs are so intricate. I don’t know how you manage it without snapping the chocolate. Or eating it all.’

  I laughed. ‘Years of practice and a huge amount of willpower! Speaking of talented, what about you? I’ve seen some of those giant displays you do for The Ramparts Hotel. That’s not flower arranging. That’s art!’

 

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