‘I can’t do that. You have to make your own decisions. If it feels right, then go for it.’
‘Nothing feels right without you.’ His eyes fill with tears and he comes to kneel at my feet. He folds his arms across my knees and rests his head on them.
This is the Marcus I loved. The stripped-back one without the gloss and bullshit. We were at our best when we were like this together. I stroke his hair as I feel him sob. The tears run down my cheeks, too.
After a few minutes he rights himself and I hand him a napkin for him to wipe his face. I brush away my own tears with my fingers.
‘What a twat,’ he says, blowing his nose. ‘What a fucked-up twat.’
‘You’re not,’ I insist. ‘Of course you’re not. You’re a fabulous man who could achieve anything that he wants to. You just have to focus, Marcus. Find out what it really is that you want from life and go for it.’
‘And what if I can’t have what I really want?’
I have no answer to that.
Marcus stands up. ‘I should go.’ He blows his nose again. ‘Please don’t tell whatshisname about this.’
‘Aiden,’ I supply. As usual. ‘Of course I won’t.’
‘I’ll leave the running of Chocolate Heaven up to you, Lucy. Do what you want with it.’
‘I do have plans.’ I don’t know why, but I pull the brochure out from behind the cushion and risk showing it to him. ‘I’m thinking of training to be a proper chocolatier.’
‘That would be great.’
‘I know.’
‘So what’s stopping you?’
‘Mainly money,’ I admit. ‘Some confidence issues, too. I wouldn’t want to do this and fail.’
‘I can give you the money. Lend it to you. Whatever.’
‘I’d rather do it myself,’ I tell him.
‘Don’t let being stubborn stand in the way of your dreams.’
‘I’ll manage. Somehow. I think we both have to cut the umbilical cord between us.’
‘You’re right. Of course.’
I fiddle with the brochure. ‘In the meantime, as you’re running away with my assistant, how would you feel if I took on Autumn to work here? I’m sure she’d jump at the chance.’
He holds out his hands. ‘It’s up to you. My name’s on the lease, but that’s where my interest ends. After all, I did this for you.’ He gives me a wry look. ‘Even that wasn’t enough.’
‘I do appreciate it, Marcus. And it hasn’t been too bad working together, has it?’
‘It’s been great,’ he says. ‘But I can’t see you every day, Lucy, and not be with you. I’m just torturing myself. You’re making a good go of it. I don’t have to worry about that, at least.’
‘Would you let Autumn buy into the business?’ She has some money that her parents gave her and I know she’s looking for a job.
‘Is that what you want?’
‘I’d like to put it to her. I’m not sure how it would work, but perhaps somehow we could both take it over. In time.’
‘Then I’d have no ties to you at all,’ Marcus notes.
I smile sadly at him. ‘Perhaps that would be a good thing.’
‘Come up with a plan and let me know,’ he says. ‘I’m open to offers.’
‘Thank you, Marcus.’
‘That’s it then.’ He looks at me bleakly.
The words I want to say will hardly come out. ‘When are you thinking of going?’
‘I’m not sure. We’ve yet to finalise the start date. But it will be soon. No point in hanging around. I won’t come back to Chocolate Heaven again. This is goodbye, Lucy.’
I can’t believe it ends like this. My life has been intrinsically linked with Marcus for so long that he almost feels more like a brother to me than an ex-lover. Even while hating him, underneath it all I’ve never really stopped loving him. However, the truth of the matter is that just because you love someone it doesn’t mean that they’re right for you. Don’t I know it.
Marcus might think that we were destined to be together for ever, come what may, but we would never have lasted. What we wanted was too different. I wanted Marcus and, well, I don’t think Marcus ever knew quite what he wanted. I don’t think he’s changed. I think the only reason that he still believes that he wants me is because he can’t have me.
And, when it all boils down to it, I adore Crush. He’s the perfect man for me. He’s shown me what love really means. We get along so much better than Marcus and I ever did. We laugh, we love, we try never to hurt each other. He is steadfast and loyal. Two particular things that Marcus could never manage. We want the same things from life. That’s how you make a lasting relationship. I would never ever dream of leaving him to go back to Marcus. Of that I’m absolutely sure.
Now, perhaps, Marcus finally realises it too.
He opens his arms. ‘One last hug for old times’ sake?’
Despite what my head says, there are still too many occasions when I can’t deny this man. My heart is a much more impressionable thing. I step into his arms and he holds me tightly, rocking me against his chest. I can feel the solid beating of his heart. He presses his face against my hair and brushes my cheek. The aroma of his aftershave takes me back to the days when we first fell in love and used to spend all day in bed together. I couldn’t get enough of his body, his scent, his love.
I once adored this man so much, so very much.
Then Marcus breaks away from me. ‘Goodbye, Lucy,’ he says.
And I stand while he walks out of Chocolate Heaven and out of my life for ever.
Chapter Fifty-Five
After a blissful night at The Ritz, Chantal and Jacob had travelled down to the wilds of north Cornwall. Jacob had organised a beautiful boutique hotel in Watergate Bay for them and it was all that a honeymoon should be. The hotel was chic, quiet and right on the edge of the sweeping sandy beach. Jacob had booked the best suite in the house and it was gorgeous. Their room had a spacious balcony and a spectacular view of the sea. The walls were covered in sanded driftwood and there was a big brass bed covered with sand-coloured throws and cushions made of pale-blue ticking. In the main room, blue leather chairs were set in one of the bay windows; the other held a roll-top bath.
For the last few days they’d explored the area at a leisurely pace, having a few gentle walks, indulging in some shopping in touristy art galleries and taking in a restorative cream tea or two on the way. She tired easily and didn’t want to overdo things.
Back at Watergate Bay, they’d meandered barefoot along the beach feeling the sand in their toes, as happy families started to pack up their colourful towels and beach games for the day. When Lana was a little bit older, they’d bring her back here. She’d love it. Chantal felt a twinge of longing for her baby. It was the first time she’d left her for any length of time and, though she was loving being with Jacob, it was so hard being away from her.
She watched a little girl of about six or seven skipping along the sand with her parents. Before too long, that would be Lana and it felt good to know that she had a fighting chance of being around to see that.
Jacob saw her watching the child. ‘Missing Lana?’ ‘Like mad,’ she said. ‘But it’s nice for us to have some time to ourselves. She’s in good hands.’
Ted had booked a week’s holiday to stay in England while they were away and she was grateful that he’d offered. It had felt a little strange to have her ex-husband at her wedding, but the awkward feeling had soon gone.
They were both living at Chantal’s house so that it wouldn’t be too disruptive for Lana. It had been lovely to see how thrilled Ted was to be having her for more than a few hours and it would give Lana and Elsie plenty of time to play together. ‘I’ll ring Ted soon and talk to her.’
Arms entwined and heads together, they sat on the sand, watched the paddle-boarders bob on the gentle waves and let the sounds of the sea soothe them. Chantal didn’t think she’d ever felt more settled and restful.
After a while they
went back to the solace of their room and Jacob ran her a bath. She was now luxuriating in it with a glass of champagne in her hand. The French doors were open and Jacob sat on the balcony in one of the steamer chairs. All they could see was the vast expanse of the ocean and the slowly sinking sun. It looked as if it was going to be another spectacular sunset. What bliss.
She rearranged the bubbles over her chest and, beneath the water, tentatively dared to touch the scar where her breast had been. Her battle scar. It still didn’t quite feel like her own body, but she was beginning to learn to live with it. As soon as they were back from honeymoon then she’d start nearly six months of chemotherapy. It sounded weird, but she couldn’t wait for it to begin. All she wanted was to be sure that they’d got every scrap of this cancer out of her body.
They’d consider too whether she’d need to have the other breast removed. After that, she’d have reconstructive surgery to return her curves to her. She’d never look quite as she once had, she supposed, but it was a small price to pay for being able to stay around to see Lana grow up.
She was still awkward in front of Jacob and hadn’t yet let him see her completely naked. He would be marvellous about it, she knew that, but she had to be ready herself. Instead, she treated herself to some pretty post-surgery underwear – thank heavens for the companies who made it. When she’d finally steeled herself to buy it, she’d chosen something pink and very lacy to make herself feel more feminine, and wore that to bed instead. It didn’t seem to have dimmed Jacob’s ardour, though he did hold her as if she was porcelain.
She stood out of the bath and wrapped herself in one of the luxury dressing gowns provided by the hotel. The weather was gloriously hot, but a cool breeze from the sea tingled against her skin. Chantal paused for a moment. When this all got too much, she wanted to remember the small things, to hold on to some golden memories. This honeymoon was one of them. She went out on the balcony to join Jacob.
‘Top up?’ he asked.
She nodded and, reaching for the champagne, he poured some more into her glass.
He moved up and she curled along the length of him on the steamer chair. The sky was turning orange, pink, purple. The sun a burning ball on the horizon.
‘This is heaven. Thank you for organising it.’ There was no way that she could have faced getting onto a plane and jetting off to one of the places more usually considered a honeymoon destination – the Maldives, Seychelles, Mexico. This was just what she needed.
‘You’re looking much better,’ he said.
Normally, Chantal shied away from exposing herself to the sun, slathering her face and body in sunblock and wearing an enormous sun hat so that her skin wouldn’t age or wrinkle. This week, she hadn’t been nearly so rigorous and, for once, had enjoyed feeling the rays warm her limbs. It felt as if it had soothed her down to her bones, comforting her. As a result, her face had a golden glow and freckles that she didn’t even know she had were dusted across the bridge of her nose.
They were due to go down to dinner soon and her tummy rumbled in anticipation. Each night they’d dined by candlelight on locally caught seafood, beautifully prepared. A bit of sunshine and sea air had certainly brought her appetite back and she was feeling ready to face the rigours ahead.
Jacob stroked her hair, tenderly.
‘Will you still love me when it all falls out?’
‘I don’t remember promising “in hairiness or in baldness”,’ he teased.
‘Apparently, it’s the pubic hair that goes first.’
‘Sexy,’ Jacob said.
Jacob nuzzled against her as the sun said goodbye for the night.
‘Cancer may have its claws into us at the moment, but I don’t want it to shape our future.’ She ran her fingers over Jacob’s chest. ‘I want you to be my husband. Not my carer.’
He tilted her chin and kissed her intensely.
‘Whatever happens,’ he murmured, ‘I’ll love you for ever.’ ‘Hmm.’ She kissed him back.
‘I promise you with all my heart, Mrs Chantal Lawson, that we are going to have a very long and very happy life together.’
She settled into Jacob’s arms. ‘I like the sound of that.’
Chapter Fifty-Six
‘This is the sixth venue we’ve looked at,’ Crush notes. ‘Or maybe seventh.’ I can hear the weariness in his voice. It’s actually the eighth.
‘Shall we get married here then?’ He shrugs at me, hopefully. ‘It’s nice. No? Yes?’
‘Yes.’ I look round the room at the Mayfair Library and can find nothing wrong with it. Nothing at all. It’s perfectly acceptable. I’m sure lots of brides get married here and love it. But I’m not sure that my heart’s in it. It isn’t the lovely temple in Golders Hill Park. We won’t be able to have a picnic on the grass.
The registrar is enthusiastically pointing out the plus points of the building, but I’m struggling to concentrate.
‘You don’t seem all that keen,’ Crush says.
‘It’s lovely.’
He frowns at me and says to the registrar, ‘Can you give us a minute, please?’
‘Certainly.’ Hastily, she backs out of the room, leaving us alone.
When she’s gone, somewhat reluctantly, Crush says, ‘We can look at other venues, if you want to.’
Though, as he already pointed out, we have been around more than half a dozen already and I have discounted them all for various reasons: too big, too small, too expensive, too chav, not chav enough.
‘This is fine.’
‘If you want to we can arrange everything at Golders’ Hill Park again.’
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘That was Chantal’s wedding and it was perfect.’
‘Couldn’t we use one of the other areas there? They all looked great. Maybe Jacob could organise something different to eat?’
‘Like what?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Crush admits. ‘Making decisions about food is above my pay grade.’
‘No. We can’t go there again. Everyone will compare it. We have to do something different that makes it ours.’
‘If you say so,’ Crush concedes. Though his voice actually says ‘I will never, not in a million years, understand women.’
‘It has to be special.’ I feel my chin begin to wobble. ‘It’s just that . . . ’
‘What?’
I burst into tears.
Crush takes me in his arms. ‘You don’t regret handing our wedding over to Chantal?’
‘A bit of me does,’ I admit. ‘It was all so lovely and it should have been me. But how could I begrudge her?’
‘It was a really nice thing to do. I’m sure it gave her a real lift and will help her get through the next few months. They’re going to be pretty awful for her.’
‘I know,’ I sniffle. ‘I know all that. And they’re having a lovely time on their honeymoon. It’s just that it was a really special place and nothing will ever be able to match it. Well, not on the budget we’ve got.’ All of the hotels are just so ridiculously expensive. I’m sure the minute you say the word ‘wedding’ it adds twenty-five per cent to the cost. I want to have a lovely day, but I don’t want to be ripped off either.
‘Let’s postpone it and save up some more,’ he says. ‘I want you to have the day of your dreams.’
‘I’m trying to be sensible,’ I say. ‘I just want to marry you.’ Then I cry a little bit more.
‘Your coffee and chocolate levels are dangerously low.’ He holds my shoulders and smiles at me. ‘We need to fix that.’
‘I am feeling a little bit weary.’
‘Let’s book this,’ Crush suggests. ‘Then we’ve got something in the diary. If we happen across somewhere better then all we have to do is cancel.’
‘Good idea.’ I don’t want to be negative while he’s being proactive. It’s his day as much as mine.
So I dry my eyes and we go through to the office. We book a date that seems like a long way down the line and fill in all the paperwork we need.
In my head, I try to convince myself that I like it here.
A short while later, deed done, and we have a wedding date. Together, we breeze out of the building and Crush is grinning. ‘Happy?’ he asks.
‘Very much so.’ I pin on a smile.
But, to be honest, since he said the word chocolate, he lost me completely.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Now that it’s properly summer, I’ve dressed Chocolate Heaven with swathes of pastel-coloured bunting and it looks fabulous. We’ve got a summer-fruit range of chocolates and Alexandra’s cocktail-inspired cupcakes on offer – piña colada, strawberry margarita, lime mojito, classic gin and tonic, and Pimm’s ones which have a strawberry, orange and cucumber garnish with a sprig of mint on top. It would be nice if, next year, we could perhaps have a small selection of ice-creams. They would go well.
Finally, when all the customers have gone, I turn the sign on the door to ‘closed’ and breathe a sigh of relief. Today has been completely manic and, I have to confess, I’m even missing Ms France. I should go and wash my mouth out with soap for even saying that.
We’re having a meeting of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club; even that has to be after hours as I’ve been too busy to grab a few minutes to myself these last few days. Chantal is back from her honeymoon and, although Nadia has popped in, I haven’t had a chance to sit and chat to her. Autumn has been busy with her daughter and, though she brought Willow in, I didn’t think it was the right time to talk about my proposal – so I can’t wait to have a chat with her when she comes.
Behind the counter, I select us some of the yummy cocktail cupcakes – though there’s not that many of them left. I tried the gin and tonic one, which was utterly fantastic. It felt as if it had health-giving properties. I’ll swear my stress reduced just inhaling it. I think I’d like to make some of the flavours a regular feature on the menu for the whole of the summer. I’ll see what the girls think.
I phone Crush. ‘I’m going to be late home,’ I say. ‘Telling me something I don’t know.’ His tone is indulgent. ‘Not work this time. The girls are all coming by soon for a
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