The Chocolatier's Secret (Magnolia Creek, Book 2)

by Helen J Rolfe

  At the lake, Andrew sat on the low wall surrounding the water and shivered, realising it wouldn’t be much longer before he needed to remember a jacket when he was out and about. A light breeze flapped the paper wrapping his sandwich, and he watched as Rebecca Martin arranged chairs on the veranda at the front of Magnolia House, most likely in preparation for a wedding. She draped a white cloth over a chair and then pulled it into a bunch and wrapped a thick, pink strip of satin around the backrest and tied it in a bow. She did the same with each chair, and Andrew thought back to his own wedding with Gemma. They’d married in an old house in a Melbourne suburb beneath a gazebo in the gardens with all their friends and family there to share the day of hope and happiness with them. Gemma’s father passed away a few months before, and so Louis had given her away. He’d looked so proud walking her down the aisle, handing Gemma’s hand to his son, her long fingers outstretched, ready to become his wife and join his family and take on anything that came their way.

  Giggling behind him alerted Andrew’s attention, and when he turned, there was Molly again. This time she was with Ben, the youngest member of the Harrison clan.

  Andrew smiled. Young love … there was nothing like it.

  He picked up the sandwich wrapping he’d stuffed beneath his thigh so it didn’t blow away and off he went, back to work.

  A few spots of rain told him he’d timed it perfectly.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Molly

  Molly and Ben stood outside the cottage. The clouds had started to release their first drops of rain, and Molly had surreptitiously watched Andrew Bennett walk away. The rain had started to fall more heavily, and they’d run to the shelter of the tiny veranda.

  ‘You came here to do something, and if you’re not careful you’ll run out of time,’ said Ben. ‘It’s a massive thing, but when you don’t exactly live nearby, you have to factor that in. Otherwise you’ll tell the guy who you are, and he won’t have five minutes to get his head around it before you leap on a plane and disappear.’

  Resting on his forearms against the wooden posts on the veranda, Ben looked out over the lake. Molly faced the opposite way, next to him, He was right, of course.

  ‘I asked Dad about the family,’ said Ben, continuing when Molly looked at him hopefully. ‘He seems to think they’re really nice, respectable people. And you liked the old man … what was his name?’

  ‘I thought small towns were supposed to be close-knit, where everyone knows everyone else.’ Molly grinned.

  ‘Hey, I have an excuse. I’ve been away, remember, and my shifts since I got back have been a little erratic.’

  ‘Okay, you’re forgiven. His name’s Louis, and yes, he seems very nice.’

  ‘Despite the confrontation in the chocolate workshop?’

  She sighed. ‘As far as Louis knows, I’m just another tourist.’

  ‘I hope the shock doesn’t kill him.’

  ‘Ben! Don’t say that! Don’t even joke.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He turned to face the little cottage, his back to the lake, and for a minute neither of them spoke.

  Molly softened. She wanted to chat to him, she enjoyed it. It was easy. ‘I’ve been posting Aussie pictures like crazy in the Facebook group. Everyone is so happy I’m here, finally seeing a bit of the world. Zara has been going to Stansted Airport – her nearest – to do the same as I did, spend a bit of time getting used to the sights and sounds. She wants to make it to Crete with some girlfriends.’

  ‘She seems pretty wild.’ Ben laughed. ‘Did you see those photos of her and her mates on their last holiday to Devon?’

  ‘Let’s hope if she makes it to Crete she posts plenty of photos of scenery,’ said Molly, ‘and not body parts.’

  The rain came down harder, and Molly was aware of Ben’s body, the warmth from him standing next to her as the air around them cooled. It’d been an unexpected pleasure to have company these last few days when she was in a strange country about to do the impossible and turn up on her birth father’s doorstep. Without Ben by her side, a sounding board in moments where she doubted herself, she was starting to realise how much more difficult this would have been. Discussing normal things like their Facebook group enabled her mind to quieten and prepare for what came next.

  Ben checked his watch.

  ‘Do you have to go?’

  ‘Work calls, I’m afraid.’

  ‘You’re gonna get soaked.’ Molly looked up at the heavens, black clouds overtaking the grey.

  ‘I saw an umbrella in your kitchen.’ He raised an eyebrow, and smiling, Molly went to fetch it for him.

  ‘I’ll need that back,’ she said.

  ‘Oh no, you don’t. Get your cardigan, your handbag … whatever. You’re walking me to Main Street where I’ve parked near the gift shop, and then you’re going into the chocolaterie.’

  Molly’s smile faded.

  ‘Come on.’ He stepped off the veranda, put up the umbrella and wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

  Molly hesitated one second longer, but then grabbed her keys and a cardigan and dived under cover of the umbrella with Ben.

  ‘I’ll hold you up until you get there,’ he told her, ‘but then it’s time you met the man you came all the way across the other side of the world to see.’

  *

  Molly left Ben outside Magnolia Gifts. He hugged her and climbed into his car and he drove away.

  That was fifty minutes ago.

  Molly wished she’d gone with him. She’d rather be at a maternity emergency helping out than feeling as useless as she did right now, lurking in Main Street.

  She drew in her breath when the little bell above the chocolaterie tinkled and out came Bella.

  ‘Molly, hi! Lovely to see you again. How’s the holiday?’

  Molly looked up from beneath her umbrella as Bella put hers up against the downpour.

  ‘Great, thanks.’ But when Bella looked about to engage in more conversation, Molly ducked into the chocolaterie and slotted her dripping umbrella into the stand by the front door.

  He wasn’t there. There was a girl with long blonde hair behind the counter arranging truffles in an empty section in the glass-topped display cabinet. There was another man browsing the selection of Easter eggs that coloured the shop with their gold, pink, purple and silver wrappings.

  Molly’s heart was in her mouth. She concentrated, imagining Ben’s voice right there, telling her to breathe. But her heart pounded, her chest tightened. She grabbed her umbrella and ran out the shop. The scene with her birth mother at the forefront of her mind, she couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t do it this time.

  ‘Hey!’ a female voice shouted. ‘Look out!’

  Molly stood back. She’d nearly taken the woman out with the spike of her umbrella. The damn thing was stuck and she couldn’t put it up.

  ‘It’s Gemma,’ the woman said. ‘Are you okay?’

  Molly stared back at the beautiful blonde woman about to go into the shop. She turned away and tried again, in vain, to force the umbrella up so it could do its job. She was getting drenched, her dark hair curling at the bottom and sticking to her face.

  ‘I asked whether you’re okay?’ said Gemma. ‘You don’t seem it.’

  And then there was a voice behind the woman, a voice she recognised from someone she hadn’t seen. She’d been too busy trying to sort the umbrella out. ‘I’m not up to this, Gemma.’

  Molly turned round and saw Louis standing there.

  ‘Lovely to see you,’ he said. Or at least that’s what she thought he said. ‘You’re getting soaked through.’ He beckoned her to the shelter, but as the rain came down harder and harder, she didn’t move.

  ‘Come inside,’ Gemma begged. ‘Both of you.’ She looked sternly from one to the other, and Molly found herself moving forwards. Her feet were sodden, her flip-flops squelched as she walked. Her jeans were stuck to her legs, her top hung heavy and drips ran into her eyes.

  ‘You should throw
that useless thing away.’ Gemma took Molly’s umbrella and tutted at the bent canopy. She dropped it in the umbrella stand. ‘Let me go out back and get some towels, for the both of you.’

  Molly looked at Louis and Louis looked at her, and the twinkle in his eyes was what set her off. Molly’s laughter echoed all around the shop.

  ‘She’s treating us like we’re naughty kids up at that school of hers,’ Louis guffawed, a big sound from a frail old man.

  Molly’s face turned serious as Gemma returned with towels. ‘Andrew is out back, Louis. Go and talk to him and I’ll be there in a minute.’

  Louis didn’t move.

  ‘Go, Louis.’

  ‘Does he know I’m here?’

  Ben’s voice was there again, inside her head, telling her to get on and do it. But before she or Louis could move from the spot where they stood dripping onto the dark wooden floor of the chocolaterie, there he was. Andrew Bennett. Dressed in an apron, he was standing watching all three of them from behind the counter.

  Molly had seen him before, of course, in the pub, at the workshop, on the street when she’d watched from a distance. But being close again now and knowing why she was here made her notice him in full light. The planes of his face – were they the same as hers? Dark hair like hers maybe, once upon a time, but now salt and pepper with flecks of grey among the dark, especially where it had been allowed to grow longer on top. The crease between his eyebrows told of frowning too many times. Molly was guilty of doing the same thing, especially when she was concentrating or annoyed. The only difference was her skin was too young to have a permanent mark etched already. She relaxed her expression to avoid the same happening to her.

  ‘What’s all this?’ He walked towards them. His apron was filthy with smears of dark chocolate and a lighter variety, and for some peculiar reason Molly found herself wondering why, on all these cooking shows on TV, pastry chefs and those who worked with chocolate were always in crisp, white chef clothing. Was it all a gimmick? A game of make-believe?

  ‘You two need to talk,’ said Gemma, looking first at Louis, then at Andrew.

  Before Andrew could open his mouth, Molly found herself saying, ‘We do.’

  All three turned to her.

  ‘I’m Molly.’

  Gemma, Andrew and Louis looked at her as though she were barmy.

  ‘Molly Ramsey,’ she added, but they had no idea, did they?

  ‘Am I missing something?’ Gemma turned to Andrew and then back to Molly.

  Andrew looked confused, as did Louis, but as Molly locked eyes with Andrew one more time, looking into piercing blue eyes, at the softly curved top lip she knew hers was a mirror image of, Andrew Bennett saw what she did and when he opened his mouth, no words came out.

  Andrew and Molly stared at one another. Gemma asked what was going on. Louis stayed silent.

  ‘Do you two know each other?’ Gemma looked worried, and Molly hated how she was about to blow this woman’s world apart. She was nice, the sort of woman she wished was her birth mum rather than the woman who’d told her to go away.

  Next to them Louis’ breathing became heavier.

  ‘It’s you.’ Andrew looked at Molly.

  ‘It’s me,’ she said.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Andrew

  They say shock affects your body in many ways. The body doesn’t get enough blood flow, and it can’t function. You get dizzy, become light-headed, have difficulty breathing. All of this and more was happening to Andrew right at this moment, and he had no idea how to feel, what to say, how to react.

  Molly.

  His daughter.

  Andrew had never been this shocked. Not when his father told him they were emigrating to Australia, not when Gemma had her first miscarriage, not even when Louis told him the web of lies they’d woven back when Julia was on the scene. And not even now when Gemma left. One minute she was standing there next to him in the chocolaterie, the next she was running out of the door, unable to cope with this girl who’d suddenly turned up in their lives.

  ‘I’ll go, leave you two to talk.’ Louis touched Molly’s arm, smiled warily and without another word shuffled towards the door of the chocolaterie.

  Andrew had no idea what Emilio had overheard, but his employee was there now, at Louis’ side. ‘I’ll walk Louis home,’ he told Andrew. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’ He turned the sign on the door to Closed as they left.

  Only metres separated Andrew and Molly, and for a while neither of them moved, neither of them spoke.

  Eventually, Andrew went to the door and locked it, pulled the chain across. And then he motioned for Molly to follow him upstairs to the café where they wouldn’t be disturbed, where customers couldn’t peer through the window to see if they were still open.

  By now the rain had stopped and the sun was brave enough to appear in the sky, and they went out onto the veranda. Andrew grabbed an old towel to wipe down the chairs at a small round table, and Molly tentatively sat down. He stood, sodden towel in hand, watching her toy with the phone in her lap.

  Without a word, Andrew went back inside and made two mugs of hot chocolate. He added whipped cream to the top of each, finishing the drinks with chocolate sprinkles. And when he’d run out of things to do to delay the inevitable, he joined Molly outside. He set down the mugs and sat opposite.

  Andrew was the first to speak. ‘Beautiful out here, isn’t it?’

  A friendly kookaburra assumed his position at the far end of the wooden railing and laughed in a way that coaxed a smile, albeit very small, out of Molly. Andrew knew, he’d only quickly glanced sideways at her, but it had been enough. They both stared out into the wide expanse, the mountain ash trees able to hide a million secrets in their density.

  When he felt brave enough, he turned to Molly. ‘I didn’t know.’ He took in the eyes the same shape as his, her mouth sitting in the same relaxed manner, the cheekbones structured in the same way as Julia’s had been all those years ago when she’d sat next to him in maths class and smiled at him for the first time. ‘I didn’t know anything about you,’ he said.

  Her hands shook when she tried to lift the hot chocolate. The small chocolate disc he’d put beside the cup had melted against the hot vessel and gone all gooey, and when she got it on her fingers, she put the mug down and licked the mixture off.

  ‘So my birth mum never told you she was pregnant?’ she asked.

  ‘I knew she was pregnant,’ he began, worried that anything he said could jeopardise things between them, creating an obstacle in an already unruly path. ‘But I only found out recently that Julia had gone on to have the baby, our baby. You.’

  He was making right mess of this. He couldn’t even get his words out straight.

  Molly toyed with the teaspoon beside her mug. ‘You thought she’d get an abortion?’

  ‘It wasn’t what I wanted at the time, but I was told that was what was going to happen.’ His anger reared its ugly head again, but he didn’t want it to. Not right now. ‘Julia left without seeing me, without telling me anything to my face.’

  ‘Sounds about right.’

  His heart broke at the pain behind Molly’s words. Julia had told him she’d refused to see Molly, but it hadn’t meant as much to him as it did now, with Molly sitting right in front of him, the hurt written all over her face.

  ‘It must’ve been a shock,’ said Molly.

  ‘One hell of a shock,’ he clarified.

  Her chair scraped back, but she didn’t go anywhere. All she’d done was put a bit of extra space between them. Perhaps they both needed it for now.

  Andrew stirred his hot chocolate as the cream disappeared gradually into the hot liquid. To anyone watching, they would’ve looked like father and daughter enjoying a chat, relaxed in the bush setting with their luxury drinks. But between them and the kookaburra, they knew it wasn’t the case.

  ‘Why didn’t you write to me? Let me know you were coming?’ he asked.

  Molly took
a while to answer. ‘Because my biological mother turned me away. I wrote her letters, and I waited for months. I was so patient, but she still didn’t want to get to know me or tell me anything about what happened when I was born. I decided I wanted to see you for myself, without giving you warning. I didn’t want you to make excuses in your letters or emails. I wanted to see you, face-to-face, and rather than prolong the agony, I decided I’d rather have you slam a door in my face if you didn’t want to see me. At least then I’d be able to move on and I’d know.’

  He couldn’t stop looking at her. ‘So you flew all the way here from England.’

  She nodded, and when her eyes glistened over she looked down into her cup and stirred the remaining cream through the liquid until it’d gone.

  ‘You did something very brave,’ he told her.

  ‘It sounds crazy to everyone else, I know. But I had to do it. When Julia pushed me away, it hurt more than you could ever know.’ She stopped, gathered herself, her bottom lip wobbled, but she kept it in check. ‘I never wanted to hurt that much again, ever.’

  ‘Listen, Molly. Before we get into this … can I ask you one question?’ His eyes begged her to give him a chance. His mind tried to focus on the moment, not even think about Gemma, about Louis, about Julia, about anything else other than the two of them.

  ‘Go on,’ she said.

  ‘Were you happy?’

  ‘When?’

  ‘In life. Were you happy in life? Did you end up with a family who loved you? A family who wanted you?’ He brushed an ant away as it braved crawling onto the table’s surface.

  ‘I was, and I am, very happy.’ Her voice was soft, and when she spoke his shoulders melted with relief. ‘My family are the best people in the world.’