‘Let me worry about that.’ She links her arm in mine. ‘It’s my wedding present to you.’
‘No, no, no. It’s too much.’
‘It’s better than a Hoover or a dishwasher.’
‘And ten times the price!’ I protest. ‘You could buy me a Hoover, a dishwasher and a small family car.’
‘We’ve bought the hat, too,’ Nadia says, brushing a tear from her eye. ‘Between me and Autumn. All you have to do is pay for the shoes.’
‘Oh, girls.’ I have a little tear too and give them all a hug. ‘How can I ever thank you?’
‘You can buy the coffee,’ Chantal says. ‘And I’ll have a great big piece of cake.’
‘What did I ever do to deserve friends like you? You’re too kind.’
‘I can’t wait to see you in it on your wedding day,’ Chantal says. ‘So that gives me an extra incentive to still be here.’
‘You will be here,’ I say fiercely. ‘And you’ll be fine.’
Then we have another group hug and this one is tighter than ever.
‘Come on,’ I say. ‘We’re not going to be sad today. Big cake is definitely required.’
I only hope that they’ve ordered my dress in a . . . ahem . . . generous size.
Chapter Forty
Accordingly, we find the nearest café and order the biggest slices of chocolate cake they have. ‘I’d better get back to Chocolate Heaven soon – I’ve left it in the tender loving care of Ms France and I’d like a business left when I return. She and I have avoided each other like the plague since the unfortunate shagging-over-the-desk incident.’
Their heads all swivel in my direction and, in unison, they say, ‘The what?’
Ah. Hadn’t told them about that.
‘I had to pop back to Chocolate Heaven late the other night and saw Marcus having it off with Ms France over the desk in the back room.’ I shudder at the thought. How am I ever going to use that computer again without having a flashback? ‘I saw more of Marcus’s bum than I wanted to. It was probably worse than listening to my parents have sex on my sofa and that, quite frankly, has scarred me for life.’
They all laugh.
‘It wasn’t funny, it was totally traumatic.’ I seek solace in my chocolate cake. ‘I’m seriously considering my future at Chocolate Heaven. If she stays, then I go.’
‘You need the money,’ Chantal reminds me.
‘Oh, yeah.’ So much for the grand gesture. ‘Maybe after the wedding I’ll look for another job.’
‘You won’t, Lucy,’ Nadia says. ‘You’re destined to be at Chocolate Heaven whatever happens.’
It certainly looks that way.
‘How can I get rid of Ms France then? We need one of my cunning plans.’
They all groan.
‘That’s the last thing we need,’ Chantal says. ‘You get into enough trouble as it is.’
So. No new career. No cunning plan. No getting rid of pesky French assistant. Gah. I must hold on to the thought that I have my lovely, lovely wedding coming up. ‘What else has been going on then?’ I ask. ‘That’s all my news.’
‘Willow is coming to stay for the weekend,’ Autumn says. ‘Well, overnight. I can’t wait.’
‘That’s great. I’m so pleased it’s working out for you.’
‘We’re speaking or texting every day,’ she adds. ‘I’m so happy. The only fly in the ointment is that I’ve had a big bust up with my parents. I went to tell them about Willow and they were their usual uninterested selves.’ She blushes and fiddles with her hair. ‘I was very cruel. I said things that I shouldn’t have said.’
‘You’ve been bottling it all up for a long time.’
‘That doesn’t excuse it, though,’ Autumn says. ‘I’ve phoned my mother to apologise but she hasn’t returned my calls.’
‘You have us,’ Nadia says. ‘And we can’t wait to meet Willow.’
‘I saw Ted and Stacey,’ Chantal says when we turn to her for an update. ‘It was a bit awkward at first, but Ted is trying his best. Stacey stayed out of the way and we didn’t have much to say to each other, but it was OK. Ted has agreed to finalise the divorce quickly. While he’s here, we’re going to sign the papers this week. All being well. Then I’ll be a free woman.’ We all toast that with our coffee.
‘And you’re feeling OK?’ I ask, anxiously.
‘Yeah. Good but not great.’ She rubs at her shoulder. ‘My chest is still aching where the lump was removed and my arm is still weak, but I’m on the mend. I’ve got an appointment with Livia later this week and I’m hoping she’ll give me the all-clear.’
‘Amen to that,’ I say.
‘I’m keeping my fingers crossed.’ Chantal holds up crossed fingers on both hands.
‘You know you only have to ask if you want any help,’ I say.
‘I do.’ Chantal smiles at us all. ‘You lot do more than enough for me. We’ll all go out and down enough cocktails to sink a ship when this is over. My treat.’
Last but not least, we turn to Nadia. She’s only just come back from her holiday and we haven’t even had time for a proper download yet. ‘Right, Madam. We want to hear all about your week in the wilds of Cumbria. How was it?’
She looks very coy. ‘It was fantastic.’
‘In what sense of the word?’ I want to know. ‘Rampant sex every night? More cake than you could shake a stick at?’
‘Quite a lot of passion.’ Even more bashful. ‘Some excellent cake. Though there isn’t a decent chocolate shop as far as I can tell.’
We shake our heads in sorrow at that terrible news.
‘Though you can buy everything your heart desires – as long as it’s made of fleece.’
‘He’ll make a country bumpkin out of you yet.’
Nadia laughs. ‘He had a good go! Even in a week. We did a lot of walking on the fells which, weirdly, I really enjoyed. I learned to love my walking boots. And I now know more about sheep than I ever thought I would.’
‘And that’s it?’
‘Not quite.’ Nadia shrugs shyly. ‘James asked me to marry him.’
‘Nooooo,’ I cry. ‘Why didn’t you say? We could have tried wedding dresses on together.’
She holds up a hand. ‘I haven’t said yes, yet.’
‘Yet.’ I jump on the word.
‘It’s a big step.’ She pulls an anxious face. ‘He’s great and I love him, but I hardly know him.’
‘You don’t have to marry him tomorrow,’ I remind her. ‘Take it slowly.’
‘He wants me to move up to Cumbria. There’s no way that he can leave his farm and, I have to admit, the lifestyle really appeals to me. I didn’t think I was cut out to be a country girl, but I loved being out on the hills. The scenery is stunning. It beats dirty old north London any day. And Lewis adored it. He gets on really well with Seth and Lily. He cried when we had to come home. Me too.’
‘So the downside is?’
‘I’d have to leave all I know behind. My family, you girls. The thought really scares me. I’d be up there all on my own, starting out again. I wouldn’t have a job or any friends. I’d be reliant on James for everything.’
‘There’s always a catch,’ Chantal says.
‘It’s a fantastic opportunity.’ Autumn is vehement. ‘You could have a new life, a great one, with someone you love.’
‘I’m a firm believer in grabbing happiness while it’s on offer,’ I say. ‘But we don’t want you to go either.’
‘And that’s the problem,’ Nadia says. ‘I feel absolutely torn.’
I blow out a breath. ‘Tough call.’
Nadia spreads her hands. ‘So what do I do?’
And, even though we consider it thoroughly while we have another slice of cake and more coffee, none of us seem to be able to give her the definitive answer to that one.
Chapter Forty-One
Chantal could hear the sound of her own heart beating in her ears. She was still alive and that was something. The shock hadn’t killed her.<
br />
On the other side of the desk, Livia wasn’t her usual smiling, positive self. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said grimly. ‘I would have liked to have given you better news.’
Jacob’s hand slid over hers.
‘Having a faulty cancer gene is literally the luck of the draw.’ Livia went on to explain more about it, but her voice quickly turned into white noise.
Chantal was struggling to take it all in. She couldn’t think straight at all. It was as if there was a disconnect from reality and this was all really happening to someone else. It was like a body blow. After she’d had the lump removed, it had all seemed so positive, so simple. She’d thought that it was all behind her and that the cancer would be gone. Another thing to tick off as one of life’s experiences. Now it seemed as if that wasn’t the case at all.
‘Your mother hasn’t had cancer?’ The question pulled her back to the present.
‘No.’ She shook her head. It was one of the first things they’d asked at the very start. ‘She’s still hale and hearty.’
‘Your grandmother?’
‘I don’t know.’ She’d died young, before Chantal was born, so no one had ever told her. Could it be that this had been lurking in her family history all along? Perhaps she’d have to put in a call to her mother so that she could check it out. But they hadn’t spoken for a long time and, at the moment, her brain wouldn’t process that.
‘I’m concerned that there’s some cancerous tissue in the breast that I couldn’t remove. It can be so minute that it’s like grains of sand, but it’s there and has to come out.’
Her face was wet and she realised that she was crying. Jacob’s face was white as he took a tissue from the box conveniently placed on Livia’s desk and handed it to her. Bad news, it seemed, wasn’t unusual here.
‘But she looks so well,’ Jacob said.
Livia allowed herself a smile. ‘And that’s good news. Chantal is strong. Together we can overcome this.’
‘She’s right,’ Jacob said.
Chantal nodded as it seemed the thing to do.
Then Livia was briskly professional again. ‘There are several options and we can go through them all as many times as you need to. It’s a big decision to make.’
‘What are my options?’ Her voice wavered.
‘We can try chemotherapy first. I’d like to hit it hard. That might be enough to kill it off. It depends how you respond to it. If that doesn’t work, then you can opt to have a mastectomy.’
It was the word every woman feared. Surely the breasts were the core of your femininity. Without one, would she feel less of a woman?
‘Or you can have a mastectomy first and then we can be less aggressive with the chemotherapy.’
Neither of these options seemed to offer a wonderful choice or a miracle cure. Her mouth was dry, her mind reeling.
‘I know it’s a lot to process,’ Livia said. ‘If you opt for a mastectomy, then we can do reconstructive surgery. Sometimes we do it immediately. In other cases, a little way down the line.’
Chemotherapy or mastectomy? What a choice.
Chantal found her voice. ‘What would you do in my situation?’
‘I’d have the mastectomy straight away. No messing about.’
‘Will that give me the best chance of survival?’
‘Yes,’ Livia said, bluntly.
‘Then let’s do it.’
‘OK.’ She made a note on her pad.
‘Then that’s it? Done?’ Jacob asked.
‘Not quite.’ Livia was tight-lipped. ‘The faulty gene doesn’t go away, I’m afraid. In the future, you might also consider electing to have the other breast treated. We can monitor you closely, but there’s always going to be a risk there.’ She slipped off her glasses and fixed Chantal with a steady look. ‘You might even want to have a hysterectomy.’
A hysterectomy? Chantal hadn’t seen that coming, either. She’d left it late in life to have Lana but, somehow, she’d still imagined that she might have a child with Jacob. Wouldn’t he want that? It was something they hadn’t yet discussed, but it looked as if they’d be talking about it sooner rather than later.
‘It’s a big step,’ Livia said. ‘I know that. We don’t have to make the decision right away. Let’s get this sorted first. But they’ll both minimise your risk of developing cancer again.’
Wow, Chantal thought. This was the illness that just kept on giving. ‘If I have this gene, then presumably Lana could have it, too?’
‘Yes, it’s a possibility. She’ll need to be monitored later on in life.’
Oh, her poor child. How could she have handed this ticking time bomb down to her?
‘At least they’ll be aware of it,’ Jacob said. ‘That’s not a bad thing.’
‘I’m also going to request a CT scan, Chantal. I want to be absolutely sure that it hasn’t spread anywhere else.’
Chantal was numb, right down to her core. It felt as if there was a seething, black mass inside her trying to destroy her body. But it wouldn’t. She would fight this thing. And she would triumph. For her daughter’s sake.
‘I want to start as soon as possible,’ Chantal said. ‘I want to live to be an old lady. I want to be here to see my grandchildren.’
‘Good.’ Livia looked relieved. ‘Let’s get this party started.’ Now she was scribbling furiously on her pad. She glanced up and said, ‘If it’s OK with you, we’ll schedule your operation as soon as possible.’
Chantal steeled herself. ‘Absolutely,’ she said and her voice sounded strong.
There was going to be a positive outcome to this. She was absolutely determined. Watch out cancer, she thought, I’m coming to get you.
Chapter Forty-Two
Autumn had been so excited to see her daughter again. This time she was staying overnight at her flat and Autumn had made up the spare room. No one had stayed in here, not properly, since Richard left and it made her sad to think that her brother would never get to meet Willow. She was sure they would have really got on well together. One day, when the time was right, she’d tell Willow all about the uncle she’d never know but would have loved.
It consoled her to know that there were still people keen to meet her daughter and this weekend was the time to introduce her to Miles and Flo. Willow couldn’t help but adore them, surely? And vice versa. Miles and Flo were almost as excited as she was.
In a short while, Autumn was going to meet Willow’s train and then they’d head down to meet Miles and Flo at the South Bank to take in some of the entertainment there. This time of year, there was the annual Wonderground, which had a great carnival atmosphere. She thought Willow would love it. And, to be honest, she was still at the stage where she felt she needed to offer Willow a carrot to come down to London to meet up with her.
Wonderground was a colourful event that ran through until September and it was a little bit edgy, a tiny bit dark, which – along with the usual hordes of tourists – attracted some wacky, bohemian characters and downright freaks. There were always a few rides – a carousel that would keep Flo amused and a couple of more white-knuckle things for Willow. There was a variety of music and a food court with offerings from all round the world, which would be fun to sample for lunch.
She wanted to show her daughter so much of her world. Willow had been given a lovely, stable upbringing by Mary and her husband, but it was clear that the girl was itching to spread her wings. She was far too young to lure away to London on a permanent basis and Autumn wouldn’t dream of doing that, but perhaps she could give her a few tasters over the next few years. If Willow enjoyed Wonderground, then maybe they could take in one of the shows next time she visited.
Autumn waited impatiently at the station. The train was twenty minutes late and it was clear from the minute Willow arrived that all was not well. Her daughter’s face was dark and scowling.
‘Hey,’ Autumn said. ‘Good to see you. Have you had a horrible journey?’
Willow shrugged. ‘It was OK.’
‘Everything all right?’ Autumn studied her pinched little face. It was the epitome of teenage angst.
‘Yeah. I’m fine.’
It was obvious that she was far from fine.
‘We’re due to meet Miles and Flo,’ Autumn said. ‘I thought you’d like that and they’re dying to see you, but I can easily call them and say we’ve popped for a coffee. Would you rather sit and do that so we can have some time by ourselves to chat?’
‘I haven’t got anything to say to you.’
Ah. So it had all gone swimmingly last time and now she was being tested. Well, that was fine too.
‘I’ll call them and let them know we’ll be another half an hour. We’re heading off to the South Bank; there’s lots to do down there. I think you’ll like it.’
Willow didn’t look convinced.
‘In the meantime, there’s a nice café just around the corner that we can go to.’
‘Let’s just go to the South Bank or wherever.’
‘OK. We can do whatever you like today.’
Willow fell into step beside her and Autumn linked her arm. She thought it was promising that Willow didn’t automatically pull away.
She was glad that she hadn’t arranged for Willow to meet her parents this weekend. If Willow was in a difficult mood, it only reinforced the need for her to take this very slowly.
Autumn texted Miles before they got on the Tube. She couldn’t risk warning him of Willow’s mood in case she saw, but it was a shame that he wouldn’t get a good first impression of her. It would, however, give him a foretaste of how Flo was likely to behave in another ten years. She smiled at that.
The South Bank was bustling as always, the atmosphere buzzing. It was one of Autumn’s favourite places in London. A trip down here never failed to lift her spirits. She hoped it would do the same for Willow. And quickly.
There was a steady breeze off the Thames but the day was warm and bright, the temperature climbing surely but steadily. At the entrance to the Wonderground there was a carousel and a number of sideshows featuring curiosities, eccentricities and death-defying acts. A couple of jugglers worked the crowd with an act that was making everyone laugh. The obligatory living statues – Charlie Chaplin, Marilyn Monroe, William Shakespeare, Yoda – stood stock-still along the wall by the river and the food stalls were doing a roaring trade. Willow looked down her nose at them all and Autumn pitied poor Mary trying to keep her child entertained in the countryside.
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