‘Love you, Mummy.’ He stifled a yawn.
‘Love you, too.’ Everything she did, she did for her son. She turned on the nightlight and left him snuggled down with the bedroom door ajar.
Downstairs, she opened a bottle of wine and, from the cupboard, right at the back, pulled out the box of chocolates she’d bought yesterday. They were a supermarket brand and nothing wrong with that – needs must. But she was desperately missing Chocolate Heaven and its delights.
Her sister, Anita, was coming over to see her tonight. She’d been horrified when Nadia had told her about being attacked in the street and had wanted to rush round straight away, but Nadia had managed to persuade her that she was all right; all she’d wanted to do was to crawl into her bed.
Now Nadia would be glad of the company. It was proving even more difficult than usual spending her evenings alone. Anita had asked her to go over to her house for dinner with Lewis but she couldn’t face it. Unless she needed to for work, she didn’t have the inclination to leave the house after dark. Her confidence had taken a serious knock. When the evenings got a bit lighter, she hoped that would change but, for now, she just wanted to batten down the hatches and stay safe. She kept getting flashbacks to that night and a fresh jolt of nausea would grip her. What would become of Lewis if something dreadful happened to her? It didn’t bear thinking about.
She wouldn’t call James tonight, as he’d told her that he was going into Keswick for a rare night out and she didn’t want to interrupt his fun. He was heading to one of the pubs to listen to a local band, which one of his friends played in. She hated how much she missed their usual chat. They might not have seen each other since Christmas but he’d become very much part of her life. He, too, had been horrified to hear of her attack and had to be dissuaded from jumping in the car and coming to collect her. She was in no doubt that it had left him feeling helpless, as they were so far apart. Now when she spoke to James she felt as if she never wanted to hang up.
Before she poured the wine, she texted him. Have a great time tonight. Missing you. Xx
James texted straight back. It’s loud and crowded, but fun. Wish you were here. Xx
Soon she would be and that thought made her feel warm inside.
As she was pouring herself a glass, the front door bell rang and she went to open it, checking the security spy hole before she unhooked the chain – all the little measures that she hadn’t bothered with before. Anita bowled in and hugged her tightly. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m not so bad,’ Nadia said, easing herself from Anita’s grip. Which wasn’t strictly true. Her ribs carried a dull ache and her lip still kept splitting open if she wasn’t careful. Though the bruises had faded, she was very much aware of them; they’d left a mark that was far more than cosmetic. ‘Glad to see you.’
Anita didn’t let go. ‘You should have come to me. I would have taken care of you.’
‘I’d have found it difficult to get a babysitter and Lewis has school in the morning.’
‘You can’t stay at home every night by yourself.’ ‘I know.’
‘Tarak would have come to collect you.’
‘I don’t like to trouble him.’
‘No trouble. You’re family. He’d be glad to do it.’
Nadia thought that she’d be less than keen to be in a car alone with Tarak. Her brother-in-law might seem like a reformed character but in the past he’d had sleazy moments that were hard to forget.
‘Are you going to pack in that awful job?’ her sister continued. ‘You could come back to the shop tomorrow if you want to.’
‘I don’t think so. I’ll look for something else soon.’
‘I hate to think of you travelling home at night on the Underground by yourself. You should get a taxi home.’
‘It’s a good idea, but it would be too expensive, Anita. My wages don’t really run to such decadence.’ They walked through to the kitchen. ‘Besides, I don’t work too many late shifts. Just one a week. I’m generally travelling home with the crowd and I have a personal alarm now, which makes me feel a bit better.’ However, the undeniable fact was that now she was just a little bit more jittery. It was the first time she’d ever experienced real danger. She’d felt so helpless, so threatened, and that feeling hadn’t yet left.
She finished pouring the wine and gave a glass to Anita. ‘Cheers,’ she said. They clinked glasses together. ‘Though I’m not exactly sure what we’re celebrating. Unless you count the fact that there’s a good rom-com on the television for us to watch and I have a box of chocolates that I managed to keep hidden from Lewis.’
She lifted the lid off the box.
‘I have some good news to tell you,’ Anita said, sounding excited. ‘I hope that it will cheer you up.’
Nadia waited patiently.
‘Mummy and Daddy would like to see you,’ Anita said. ‘I talked to them on your behalf and they’ve agreed to meet you.’
She’d become estranged from her parents when she’d gone against their wishes in marrying Toby. It was years ago now and yet they’d never relented, not even when Lewis was born. She could take them cutting her off, but shunning their grandson, too? That she couldn’t get her head around. They hadn’t responded to the photographs she’d regularly sent. Not even a phone call or a birthday card for him.
Her mind stuck on one word. ‘Agreed?’
‘You know what I mean. They want to see you.’
She wondered how much persuasion Anita had to employ to get them to agree. ‘What changed their minds this time?’
‘I talked to them for you.’
Nadia rolled her eyes.
‘Don’t be like that. You can be as stubborn as they are.’
‘I’ve sent them cards, photographs. Every year. I’ve had nothing in return.’
‘I know. And that’s dreadful. But they’re not getting any younger,’ Anita said. ‘Dad’s health is failing. Perhaps they realise that if they don’t make amends soon, then they might miss the opportunity.’
A few years ago, it was all she wanted to hear. She’d missed her parents, her family, desperately. If they’d stepped in and helped her when she was struggling then maybe everything would have turned out differently. They had vehemently disapproved of her marriage and, in turn, it was their censure that had made her determined to stick with it when perhaps she would have been better to leave. Still, it was no good dwelling on that now. It was done and nothing could change it. Anita was right. Her parents were getting older and, if this was an olive branch, then she should grasp it.
‘Say something,’ Anita urged. ‘Is that not good news?’
‘Yes,’ Nadia agreed. ‘Great.’ Yet inside her there was an emptiness. The elation she should feel at the possibility of being reunited with her parents just wasn’t there. The girls of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club had stepped into the gap created by her family and she wondered if she could ever really forgive her parents for abandoning her when she most needed them.
‘Shall I set up a time?’ Anita chattered on. ‘What about a Sunday lunch at my house? It would be just like old times.’
In truth, nothing would ever get that back again. Too much had happened. Too much had been said. It could never be the same.
‘Let me see.’ Nadia saw Anita’s face fall. ‘I’ve got a lot on at the moment. I’m going up to the Lake District to visit James. Perhaps we could fix something up when I get back?’
‘I hope you’re not chasing this man, Nadia.’ Anita pursed her lips in disapproval. It reminded Nadia of her mother.
‘I don’t think so, sister,’ she said. ‘But, if I am, then that’s my business.’
‘Lewis doesn’t need a stranger in his life.’
‘James isn’t a stranger. We’ve grown fond of each other.’ She’d had more heartfelt conversations over the phone with him than she ever had with her husband when he’d been in the same room. ‘He’s a very nice man.’
‘You said that about Toby,’ Anita reminded
her.
‘He was a kind man and a loving father. Unfortunately, he had a weakness. As many men do.’ It was a barbed comment and she hoped that it struck home with Anita. Her spouse wasn’t exactly ideal marriage material either, with his philandering ways. Who was perfect? She and Toby had enjoyed a good relationship until gambling got a grip on him. ‘He needed help, which he never got.’
‘He nearly dragged you under with him,’ Anita said sharply. ‘You can’t afford for that to happen again.’
‘You’re right,’ Nadia said. ‘But what do you want me to do? Spend the rest of my life alone? Lewis needs a father figure. I do the best I can, but it’s hard bringing up a child on my own.’
‘You need a good husband. A solid man.’
Nadia had to bite her tongue. It was hard not to point out that Tarak was hardly a contender for Husband of the Year. She knew secrets about him that Anita didn’t. Who was her sister to preach to her?
‘You be careful, Nadia,’ Anita warned. ‘You are too quick to love.’
Perhaps there was an element of truth in that. Despite her protests, she was actually running up to the Lake District to be with a man she’d met only briefly.
She took a swig of her wine, which tasted bitter in her mouth. And when she bit into one of the chocolates – a dark truffle of indistinct origin – it failed to soothe her at all.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I’m back behind the counter of Chocolate Heaven, beside myself with joy. Mr Aiden Holby, less so. Crush thinks that Marcus is blackmailing me into returning and I can see his point of view. Sort of. Marcus simply took advantage when an opportunity presented itself. Which, let’s face it, is what he does best.
There have been several arguments chez Lombard, all in hushed tones as my dear father is still sleeping in my living room. In the end, I persuaded Crush – against his better judgement – that this is my spiritual home. It is where I am meant to be. I am never happier than when I’m in my apron behind my rows and rows of delicious chocolates and delightfully displayed cakes.
Mind you, it has all gone to pot since Ms France has been in charge. The whole place looks a bit shabby and unkempt. The cushions aren’t plumped, the chairs are askew, the shelves aren’t fully stocked – I could go on. Instead, on my first morning back, I’m already hard at work with a damp J-cloth and a mop.
I’m sure when Crush sees how delirious I am, he’ll come round. The pay is great. Marcus has been true to his word. He’s advanced me a month’s salary and it’s a not inconsiderable sum. This will help our wedding fund no end. Though I’m hardly going to point that out to Marcus. Plus Crush and I can now come and have sex here any time we want to! Ha! I bet Marcus never considered that, did he? One to cunning chocolateshop manager. Nil to scheming ex-fiancé.
Though, in fairness, maybe Crush will be traumatised for life by his previous experience and may never be able to . . . ahem . . . perform in a chocolate shop again. I shudder at the thought.
Just as I’m considering my options, there’s the familiar throaty roar of Marcus’s Ferrari. If he’s come to gloat about his victory, he’ll get the sharp end of my tongue. From now on this is going to be a proper business-style relationship: he will treat me with the respect I deserve and not try to snog me over the summer berry tarts or anything like that. I might be back at Chocolate Heaven and on Marcus’s turf now, but nothing he can do – nothing – will come between Crush and me. Nothing.
‘Hey, Lucy.’ Marcus swings in. He looks like the cat who’s got the cream. ‘It’s great to see you back where you belong. You and this place are meant to be.’
‘It feels good,’ I have the grace to admit. I can now call all the girls and tell them that it’s safe to return once more. They’ve yet to discover that I’m back in the ’hood. ‘The place is a bit of a state, Marcus. No wonder business has been slow. It will be nice to get it up to speed again and I have great plans for the future. I’m so glad you got rid of that awful woman.’
‘Ah,’ Marcus says. He goes a little bit pale.
‘What?’
‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you . . . ’
I give him my best death glare. ‘Please tell me that she’s gone.’
I’m hoping that at this moment she is standing alone at Paddington station with her little suitcase and her sexy accent waiting for the Eurostar to whisk her back to Paris where she belongs. ‘Mais non,’ a voice comes from behind me. ‘I am still very
much here.’ Steeeeel. I turn, and lounging in the doorway in her silk kimono thingy again is Ms France. Gah. I look back to Marcus for an explanation.
‘Ah. I haven’t yet had time to convey our new working arrangements to Marie-France,’ he tells me.
Frankly, how long does it take to say, ‘You’re out on your ear, love – Lucy’s back in town’?
Ms France bristles and folds her arms across her chest. ‘What new working arrangement is this?’
Eeeeez. Theeeeez.
As the new manager, I’d really like her gone tout de flipping suite and be able to get in someone who has a passion for this like me. She’s really let this place down in the short time she’s been here. That’s never going to win her an Employee of the Month badge, is it?
‘What is she doing here?’ Ms France wants to know. As well she might.
‘We can sort this out, ladies,’ Marcus says smoothly. ‘I’ve brought Lucy in to help, Marie-France.’
Help?
‘Lucy ran this place before and I know that you can’t manage by yourself.’
Ms France pouts.
‘You’ll get on brilliantly.’
We both know that we won’t. Besides, I came back thinking that I’d have free rein, not be encumbered with someone whom Marcus has employed for skills other than those with chocolate. And customers.
‘I want her gone.’ Ms France flounces upstairs.
‘And I want her gone,’ I say when I look back at Marcus. ‘Looks as if you have a tricky situation on your hands.’ Marcus sighs. ‘You can win her round, Lucy. She needs you.’ ‘If she stays and if I stay, she does know that I’ll be her manager?’ Marcus goes a little pink. ‘Let me talk to her.’
‘If she’s your girlfriend, Marcus, why do you even want me here? I’m your ex. This was always going to be a bad idea.’ It breaks my heart, but maybe this isn’t workable. Perhaps Crush was right all along. Anything involving Marcus is never straightforward. ‘It’s probably for the best if I just leave. I was silly to think that I could work for you.’
‘You can. You can.’ Marcus sounds desperate. ‘Marie-France and I are just, well . . . you know.’
I know only too well. There have been so many women that I’m surprised Marcus can actually remember her name.
‘Just give it a chance. Please. I’ve sunk a lot of money into this, Lucy. And it was all for you.’
‘Then don’t jeopardise it by letting other parts of your body rule your head.’ I give a pointed glance in the direction of the offending article.
‘A week. See how it goes after a week. If you and MarieFrance aren’t best friends by then, I’ll sort something out.’
All the fight goes out of me. I really want to be here and I can’t fall at the first hurdle. I can’t go home to Crush after one morning and tell him that he was right all along.
‘OK,’ I say. ‘But you tell her that I’m in charge. You tell her that she needs to buck her ideas up.’ I don’t know what the French is for that. Buck vos idées up, chuck.
Marcus is nodding furiously.
‘You tell her that and I’ll stay.’
‘I will,’ he says. ‘Of course, I will.’
‘We do this on my terms, Marcus, or not at all.’ I even frighten myself by how stern I sound.
This is the new me. Lucy ‘Ball Breaker’ Lombard. And Marcus Canning better not mess with me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The minute that Marcus leaves, I text all the members of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club. CHOCOLATE EMERGENCY.
This is our call sign for everyone to come running. Chocolate Heaven asap, I add.
Just wait until they get here. They won’t believe their eyes. I’m still not sure that I believe it myself.
Already there are a few customers coming in today. I turn on the charm and serve them in my usual friendly and welcoming manner. A few boxes of chocolates to go are whisked away and there’s a couple sitting in to share a gorgeous cappuccino cake. It’s like getting back on an old, familiar bike. A few of them tell me that it’s good to see me back – I need to woo these people to return as regulars, and quick. They are all happy and smiley by the time I’ve finished with them. I tell you, Ms France could learn a thing or two from me. I might not be able to pout as if my life depended on it or have the legs of a supermodel, but I know a thing or two about customer service.
Of course, I had completely forgotten about the very best perk of the job. Ahem.
With my little chocolate-deprived heart beating faster, I pick out a couple of chocolates that are new to the range and savour them. An almond cream in a white chocolate shell with a caramelised almond on top, then a dark truffle with cocoa nibs smothered in cocoa powder. And, for good measure, a gianduja coated with nibbed hazelnuts and smooth milk chocolate. Ah, bliss. They both taste divine and it’s good to see that the standards here haven’t slipped. My waistline is totally going to take a battering this week, despite the continuing Wedding Diet. But it’s a small price to pay for being so contented.
My very next job is to phone Alexandra and get her back on board as my cake baker; there’s no way that the current cake offerings are up to scratch.
Half an hour later and Ms France returns. This time she is dressed and groomed as if she’s about to do a magazine photoshoot. Her long dark hair swishes glossily and her perfect mouth is enhanced with red lipstick. She’s wearing black spray-on leggings, a loose white linen shirt and killer heels. I’m in a T-shirt, jeans and aged Converse. I seriously have to up my game on the style front tomorrow.
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