‘I just checked in with Ted, but Lana’s still fast asleep. I’m hoping that doesn’t mean she’ll be awake all night again.’
‘Poor lamb.’ Stacey dropped her carrier bags by the sofa and then sank into it with a welcome sigh.
‘How are things with you?’
‘Better. I think.’
She was looking brighter, more vivacious, that was for sure, Chantal thought. There was a glow to her skin, a pinkness to her cheeks that hadn’t been there when they’d first met. There was no doubt that Stacey looked a lot happier with her life.
‘I spoke to an agency about a part-time nanny and they set me up with a lady yesterday for a trial period. She came and spent the day with me and Elsie and seemed really great. So this afternoon I’ve left her looking after Elsie for the first time by herself.’ Stacey fanned her face. ‘I’m glad that I had Lewis to take to nursery. I was so anxious about leaving Elsie that she had to practically push me out of the door. When I’d dropped him off, I really didn’t know what to do with myself, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to head to the supermarket and stock up the cupboards.’
‘Rock ’n’ roll,’ Chantal said.
Stacey laughed. It was tinkling, light. ‘Well, it did help to take my mind off it.’
‘Do you think it will work out?’
‘I hope so.’
‘Great. Sounds as if you’re sorted.’ Something acidy ground away in her stomach.
‘It’s lovely having help, Chantal. Thanks for arranging that for me.’
Her smile was sincere and Chantal felt bad for harbouring mean thoughts. ‘No problem. I just said a word in the right ear.’ They both knew who she meant. ‘You’re looking much better in yourself.’
‘It’s all these visits to Chocolate Heaven,’ Stacey grinned. ‘I’m sure that’s putting the colour back in my cheeks. I’ve just got time for a quick coffee and some sustenance before I have to dash back to collect Lewis. It’s all go.’
Autumn came over. ‘Hi Stacey.’ She kissed her. ‘How’s it going with Lewis?’
‘He’s been as good as gold. What a sweetie. I’ll have him anytime. I’m glad of a breather though.’
‘What can I get for you?’
‘I’ll have a hazelnut latte and a piece of millionaire’s shortbread,’ Stacey said.
While Autumn jotted down the order, Chantal put her head in her hands. ‘I can’t believe I’ve let Lucy go to a foreign country on her own. There’s bound to be an international incident, at least. We’d better watch the six o’clock news.’
‘I hope she’s doing nothing silly.’ Autumn chewed her lip anxiously.
‘I wouldn’t stake my life savings on it,’ Chantal noted. ‘There’s more than a whiff of Marcus’s machinations behind this and that’s never good.’
‘Who’s Marcus?’ Stacey asked.
‘Lucy’s ex-boyfriend. He’s trouble with a capital T. Whenever Lucy pulls away from him, he reels her right back in.’
‘I love all these little secrets between us,’ Stacey said, hugging herself.
Chantal and Autumn exchanged a wary glance.
‘Marcus isn’t a secret,’ Chantal said. ‘He’s a festering boil.’
‘I hope she’ll be OK. All I can do is make sure I look after this place while she’s gone,’ Autumn said.
When Autumn headed back to the counter, Chantal picked at the crumbs on her plate. ‘Did you enjoy the naming party last Sunday?’
‘Yes, it was really lovely. That’s one of the reasons I popped in today. I wanted to thank Lucy. I’ve bought a little gift for her.’
‘That’s kind.’
‘I got her a little trinket box that looks like a box of chocolates.’ Stacey took it out of her bag and showed it to Chantal. ‘Do you think she’ll like it?’
‘It’s perfect. She’ll love it.’
When Autumn had delivered Stacey’s order, Chantal said, ‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the party.’ She pursed her lips. ‘This is tricky.’ She avoided Stacey’s eyes. ‘You and Ted looked as if you were getting on really well. I mean really well.’
Stacey flushed. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Is it really over between you? There’s nothing happening that I should know about?’
‘No.’ She looked aghast. ‘Nothing. I swear. I wouldn’t want anything to come between us, Chantal. You and the girls here have been my lifeline. This is a difficult situation and I thought we were all making the best of it. I suppose this sounds silly, but I felt like we were becoming a family.’
‘We do have to make the best of this situation and I think we’re doing a pretty decent job.’ Chantal paused, her mouth dry. ‘But I have to ask you this question: do you still love him?’
Stacey hung her head, raked her fingers through her glossy hair.
‘You might as well be honest with me,’ Chantal said. ‘If we’re going to make this work, then we have to have the girls’ interests at heart.’
‘Of course I still have feelings for him. He’s the father of my child.’
‘Ted and I are probably getting along better than we have in a long time and I’m trying very hard to make our marriage work.’
‘And you don’t want me interfering?’
‘I just want to know what I’m dealing with, where you two stand. I’ve tried to talk to Ted, but he has a great capacity for burying his head in the sand.’
‘He’s your husband, Chantal. I respect that. I know what we did before was wrong . . .’
‘You know, that’s all in the past. What happened, happened. It’s how we move forward that counts now.’
‘I’d love for our girls to be brought up together, like sisters. I’ll do whatever it takes to make that work.’
‘We should make sure that we all sit down regularly and have a good heart-to-heart,’ Chantal said. ‘It’s the only way we can manage our situation.’
Stacey nodded. ‘We have to be really honest with each other and upfront. Do what’s best for the girls.’
Chantal reached across and squeezed Stacey’s hand. ‘Now I feel terrible for even raising it.’
‘I hope this has cleared the air between us.’
‘Ted always said that I’d like you, but who’d have thought it would turn out like this?’
‘I’m glad it has,’ Stacey said.
‘No secrets between us,’ Chantal stressed.
‘No secrets,’ Stacey agreed.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Marcus and I take a turn of the grand ballroom, arm in arm. He’s at his most sparkling and charming. He points out a couple of top chocolatiers – people I’ve heard of but have never seen in real life. There are also a few minor film stars and a French singer who looks rather like Johnny Depp. Marcus has gossip on them all and he regales me with some juicy anecdotes until we’re chuckling together like schoolchildren. He really can be the most delightful company when he tries.
I’m glad we’re on a tasting mission as I realise that the best part of a bottle of fizz on an empty stomach is a Really Bad Idea. There’s definitely a bit more squiffiness in my demeanour than I’d like and my giggling is way too loud.
In the centre of the room is a towering glass stand laden with strawberries all dipped in white or dark chocolate and then piped with a rainbow of colours. I look back at it longingly as we skirt round it to go towards the savouries first.
‘Taste this.’ Marcus brings us to a halt at one of the many buffet tables laid out along one side of the vast room and hands me a tiny cone made from a tortilla that’s filled with delicious chicken mole, flavoured with dark chilli chocolate.
‘That’s amazing.’ I sample another one – or two – before we move on.
The next table and I’m offered a bite-sized chocolate choux bun filled with smoked ham.
‘Ooo.’
‘Good, eh?’ Marcus agrees.
He proffers another feather-light choux bun, holding it to my lips. I duly eat it. Marcus gently wip
es a crumb from my lip with his fingertip. Our eyes meet.
‘Stop it, Marcus,’ I say. ‘Stop it now.’
‘What?’ He looks at me, completely guileless.
‘I might be drunk, but I’m not that drunk.’
He grins at me. ‘I could never fool you, Lucy.’
If I wasn’t quite so tiddly, I would remember that he did fool me – quite a lot and quite often.
‘I need more food and less drink,’ I tell him.
Yet, foolishly, I don’t resist when the passing waiter tops up my glass.
We move on and Marcus selects baby back ribs from the next buffet station. They’re spiced with cinnamon, allspice and ginger. When I bite into the succulent meat, I get a depth charge from a coating of cocoa powder and a blast of heat from fiery mustard. Wowsers. My tongue is on fire and I glug my champagne to quell it.
Then we try a spoonful of Chile Ancho Sopa de Chocolate – a smooth and fiery soup made with blackened peppers, enriched with a 70 per cent Peruvian chocolate and topped with a slice of avocado and a swirl of sour cream. Wonderful. That’s followed by a white chocolate baba ghanoush, a smoky Middle Eastern dish of aubergine puree and white chocolate shavings that’s topped with pomegranate seeds. Divine.
‘Perhaps you could put some savouries on the menu at Chocolate Heaven,’ Marcus suggests. ‘They’re certainly different and could work well.’
‘It’s a great idea,’ I say. I could see my customers going for a chocolate chilli or this amazing soup. ‘There’s only one problem.’ I’m going to spill the beans when I hadn’t meant to. ‘Clive and Tristan are planning to sell up. The shop is going on the market now. There could be no more Chocolate Heaven after Christmas.’
‘Why?’ Marcus looks taken aback. ‘Doesn’t the current arrangement work well for them?’
‘I thought so, but they’ve decided that they want to be in France on a permanent basis. They’ve seen a bar or bistro or something that they want to buy.’
‘Where does that leave you?’
‘In limbo, at the moment. I’d love to be able to snap up the place, but that’s not going to happen unless I win the lottery in the next few weeks.’
‘Something might turn up.’
‘That’s what Aiden said, too.’
Marcus, for the first time this evening, looks a bit shifty. ‘Heard anything from lover boy?’
‘No,’ I admit. ‘I thought he would have called me by now.’ And it’s true. I’m really surprised that Crush hasn’t tried to contact me. Perhaps this meeting has kept him tied up all day. I know that it’s a crucial one for him.
Once again, I think that I’m really glad Marcus is here. Truly, I am. It’s so much more fun to be with someone who knows the ropes rather than being a Billy No Mates, but I do miss Aiden. He really would have loved this.
‘Ah, well,’ Marcus says. ‘He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Ready to hit the dessert tables?’
‘Absolutely.’
The counters are dressed like ice-cream carts and the pâtissiers are preparing hand-created desserts on chilled marble slabs. They pipe and work the chocolate into twirls, fans and musical notes which are then used to dress magnificent sundaes made to your own design.
Marcus chooses scoops of chocolate and blood-orange ice-cream topped with chocolate sauce. The chef fashions him a decoration for the top in a dollar sign which makes us laugh.
I opt for Madagascar vanilla and chocolate ice-cream drizzled with salted caramel sauce. My decoration is shaped like an engagement ring, which makes me flush. If only they knew.
Finally, to my relief, we head to the splendid tower of chocolate-dipped strawberries and thoroughly check those out too. Despite thinking that I couldn’t swallow another thing, I manage to guzzle some down.
After we’ve eaten I’m buzzing with a combination of too much champagne and sugar. I think we should have done networking first because, of course, now I’m completely incapable.
The band has started and the dance floor has a smattering of couples moving around.
‘Dance with me,’ Marcus says. ‘I know how you love to.’
I do and I get very little opportunity to do so now – only if I get invited to a wedding or something. Then I remember that thinking about anything to do with weddings in connection with Marcus is another Bad Idea.
We move onto the dance floor and Marcus cocks an ear. ‘Isn’t this our song?’
‘We didn’t have a song, Marcus.’
‘We didn’t?’ he coos. ‘We should have.’
He smiles at me in a slightly indulgent way and takes me in his arms. It feels so familiar and so wrong at the same time. I try to keep some space between us.
‘No funny business,’ I slur.
Marcus laughs. ‘Am I such a threat, Lucy? Does it really worry you so much to be so close to me?’ The space between us disappears and Marcus holds me tightly. ‘Do you think you might like it too much?’
‘No. I am completely immune to your charms.’
‘That’s a shame,’ he murmurs against my hair. ‘We were once so very good together.’
‘And you blew it,’ I remind him.
‘Ah, yes.’ His hand strokes the small of my back and he sways me slowly in time to the music. ‘The biggest mistake of my life.’
‘It wasn’t, Marcus. It was simply another indiscretion in a long line of them.’
‘We were good together,’ he purrs, mouth close to my ear. ‘So good.’
‘Are you drunk?’ I know that I am.
‘Only from being near you again.’
Cheesy. With extra cheese.
He takes my hand and turns the palm towards him, planting a lingering kiss in the centre. ‘We should have been married now.’
‘But we’re not.’ I put my hand on Marcus’s chest and ease him away from me. ‘I love Aiden. He’s the man I want to be with.’
‘But he isn’t here, is he?’ Marcus’s arms tighten around me. ‘And I am.’
Chapter Forty-Eight
I have a few more dances with Marcus and then my head starts to spin. Too much champagne. Waaaay too much champagne. Plus my resistance to Marcus has been stretched to its limit and I don’t want to push it any further.
‘I need to go now,’ I tell him. ‘I’m very tired.’
‘Me too,’ he agrees. ‘I’ll see you back to your hotel.’
I hold up a hand. ‘I’m fine. I can find it.’
‘No you can’t, Lucy,’ he insists. ‘Pound to a penny that you haven’t a bloody clue where you are now.’
I frown. Actually, he could be right.
‘Bruges is beautiful at night,’ he continues. ‘It’s a five-minute walk. Ten at the most. Can you manage that?’
I look down at my insubstantial shoes. It was snowing out there when I arrived and I was brought here in a taxi.
Marcus grins. ‘I can carry you.’
‘I’d rather get a cab.’
‘Where’s your spirit of adventure gone, Lucy Lombard? Has Whatshisname “crushed” it out of you?’
‘No,’ I say. ‘He has not.’
Marcus capitulates. He holds up a hand. ‘OK. I’ll phone for a cab.’ He takes out his phone, taps in a number and requests our pick-up. When he hangs up, he says to me, ‘They’ll be here in five minutes.’
‘I’ll get my coat.’
So we head towards the cloakroom, leaving behind the grand ballroom and all that wonderful chocolate.
Marcus helps me to slip on my coat and we head out into the fresh night air. It’s still snowing, flakes drifting to the ground as if they have all the time in the world. There’s no sign of a cab.
‘You don’t have to come with me, Marcus. Stay and enjoy yourself. There are lots of pretty girls in there.’
He refuses to acknowledge the dig. ‘I want to make sure that you get back safely.’ Casually slinging an arm round my shoulder, he draws me in.
That feels nice as he shelters me from the breeze and I shiver against him.
‘What can we do to keep warm while we wait for our transport?’
My eyes are heavy with sleep, I feel my lids lower and I lean against Marcus. Then, suddenly, his mouth is close to mine, so close.
Immediately, I snap out of my champagne haze. ‘You’re not really going to try to kiss me, are you?’
‘Well . . .’
At that moment, an elegant black carriage drawn by a beautiful white horse comes clippety-clopping round the corner and stops in front of us.
I look at Marcus, open-mouthed. ‘Tell me you didn’t order this.’
He does his cutest smile. ‘I thought it would be fun.’
‘Romantic is what you thought it would be, Marcus. Romantic.’
He shrugs his shoulders. Guilty as charged. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘You are absolutely insufferable, Marcus Canning. I’m not getting into that thing.’
Marcus grabs my hand and urges me towards the carriage. ‘Please, Lucy. You know you want to.’
‘I don’t!’
‘It is a beautiful city to fall in love, lady,’ the carriage driver says dreamily.
‘That’s not exactly helping,’ I retort and the driver looks stung. ‘I was due to marry this man and he ran out on me. It’s going to take more than a naffing horse to make me forget that.’
‘Lucy . . .’ Marcus cajoles as he gestures towards the carriage. ‘What’s not to love?’
‘I’m not getting in there. I’d rather freeze to death.’
‘Oh, Lucy. Don’t be a spoilsport.’
‘You’ve gone too far, Marcus. We had a lovely evening and now you’ve pushed it beyond that. You’ve completely ruined it. Why couldn’t you be happy for us to be just friends?’
Hitching up my gown, I start to stamp away, feet already soaked by the snowy pavements.
‘Lucy.’ He comes after me, grabbing my arm.
I shake him off.
‘Hey, friend,’ the driver shouts – not so dreamy now – ‘you owe me some euros.’
‘What?’ Marcus turns back, torn.
‘You have booked for the moonlight tour. Now I need to be paid.’
‘Moonlight tour?’ If I wasn’t seeing red already, then the mist descends. Moonlight tour, indeed. Is that how easy Marcus Canning thinks I am?
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