‘I can’t believe you’re leaving,’ Christmas said, suddenly overwhelmed and tired and a little teary.
‘I know. It’s the end of an era. But we’ve survived distance before, when you lived in Sydney.’
‘And then I ran back to you,’ Christmas said.
‘Well then, if it all goes badly for me I’ll run back to you and sleep on your couch and eat your chocolate for a few months while I get myself together again.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise.’
Just then, Frank Sinatra’s voice boomed out of the stereo, tables and chairs were pulled to the edges of the lounge room, and Paula, the bossier of Val’s other siblings, ordered everyone onto the dance floor.
Joseph manoeuvred into their corner, kissed Emily on the cheek and asked if he could steal Christmas away for a dance.
‘I’ll let you borrow her,’ Emily said, and squeezed Christmas’s hand as they moved off.
‘Where are Val and Archie?’ Christmas said, taking a space on the dance floor with Joseph.
‘I’m not sure. I haven’t seen them for a while.’
‘Probably cornered somewhere by someone talking their ear off.’
Joseph sway-danced with Christmas to ‘Come Fly with Me’. ‘Have you been taking lessons?’ he asked. ‘I don’t remember you being this coordinated before.’
‘I would object to that if it wasn’t so true,’ she said, twirling under his arm. ‘And yes, I had to dance in France as part of my chocolate course.’
‘That’s an unusual teaching method,’ Joseph said, stepping in towards her and then out again.
‘It certainly was.’
‘Did it work?’
‘Yes, I think it might have.’
‘Huh.’
She put her hand up onto his shoulder. ‘You know what?’
‘What?’
‘I’m really glad you’re my stepfather/ex-stepfather/father-figure person.’
‘Well, that’s nice of you to say so. I’m glad you’re my stepdaughter/ex-stepdaughter/daughter-ish person.’
‘And if I ever get married, I’d be so happy if you would walk with me down the aisle.’
Joseph stumbled and stepped on her toe.
‘Ow!’ She laughed.
‘God, sorry. Are you alright?’
‘I think I’ll live, but my pedicure might be ruined. Sorry if I threw you off.’
Joseph’s voice was thick with emotion. ‘I’d be honoured to walk you down the aisle.’
‘Because do you know what I’ve just realised?’ she went on. ‘You can’t choose your parents. You can’t even choose your stepparents. But I can choose my ex-stepfather as my own. You’re the only father I’ve ever had and I’m so lucky and grateful for that. And I want it to stay that way forever, no matter how many other faux, transient, step- or biological fathers come my way. All my life I thought I was missing a father when really you’ve been here all along. Or mostly all along.’
Joseph pulled her to his chest and hugged her hard. ‘I choose you, too,’ he said. And his hand fluttered at hers briefly before he excused himself and left the floor, heading towards the undercover patio at the back.
The wedding cake was a Victorian sponge tower made by Archie’s mother and decorated with freshly whipped cream, strawberries and rose petals and a generous dusting of icing sugar. It was simple, elegant, beautiful and absolutely delicious. Christmas’s miniature wedding cake chocolates were handed around on silver platters and were a huge hit with the crowd. She fielded endless compliments and enquiries about her shop and her work, with promises of several solid bookings to come.
But it was at around this time, when the rain had finally ceased and the guests started to drift off, a frosty wind shooting through the constantly opening front door, that she began to feel the weight of all she’d lost with Lincoln and what she would lose with Emily’s departure. She put down the plastic cup of champagne she was drinking, suspecting that it was now having the opposite of the intended effect, making her maudlin rather than festive, and raided Val’s wardrobe for a coat. Bracing herself, she stepped out into the cold, pulling the thick coat tightly around her, shivering as the wind skittered up her exposed legs and under the hem of her dress.
Cars lined the street on both sides but the footpath it was empty except for one man heavily rugged up and walking a small dog. She began to walk too, with no plan in mind other than to force herself into a better mental state by blasting away any self-indulgence. It was her sister’s wedding day. She should be happy. But suddenly she’d run out of cheer. And battling the cold wind wasn’t enlivening her; it was merely making her more miserable. Tears filled her eyes, only to be whipped away by gusts as soon as they dared to fall.
She kept walking, heedless of her direction, wiping under her eyes carefully to try to halt any makeup runs.
A car wended its way up the street towards her, moving carefully past all the parked vehicles, and then slowed as it neared.
She stared through the windscreen. It couldn’t be . . . but it was.
Lincoln.
Christmas stopped, and he pulled on the handbrake right where the car was idling in the middle of the street and got out. He was wearing only a long-sleeved cotton shirt above his jeans and the wind flapped the open material at his chest.
‘What are you doing here?’ she called. ‘It’s freezing. And why aren’t you on a plane?’
He stopped in front of her. ‘I’m not going,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I couldn’t get on the plane. I was sitting in the terminal and I just felt . . .’ he waved his hands around as he looked for the right word ‘. . . miserable,’ he finished. ‘You make me happy and I’m miserable without you. I love you and I want to be with you. I decided to grow up and chart the course of my own ship instead of sailing wherever the winds take me. I’m staying here, with you.’
‘But what about Ecuador?’
‘Ecuador? Never heard of it.’
She burst out laughing and then tears mingled with her laughter.
‘That country’s been there for a long, long time and it will be there for a long while yet. It can wait. Right now, I want you. Is that okay?’ he asked, grinning.
‘It’s perfect.’
He pointed to the Honda. ‘Now, if you would be so kind as to step into my chariot, I’d like to take you home and make love to you all night.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, please.’
‘Just promise me one thing.’
‘Anything.’
‘Promise me you’ll never again kiss me and push me out the door.’
‘I promise.’
He grabbed hold of her and kissed her hard, and then shepherded her to the car. He opened the creaky door and bowed low. ‘Madam, your chariot awaits.’
‘Let’s go,’ she said, took his hand and stepped into the car and the new chapter, only just beginning.
29
Lincoln entered the door of Elsa’s bungalow carrying a bouquet of yellow flowers.
‘Why are you still here?’ Elsa said, flicking the remote control to turn off the television. ‘I thought you had to leave.’
‘The plan changed so I thought I’d surprise you,’ he said, handing her the flowers.
She sniffed them; they had no smell, which was always a disappointment, but it was no matter because she had Lincoln back with her for another day or so, and she’d take any time she could get before losing him again. ‘Thank you, they’re lovely.’
Lincoln perched on the edge of the couch. ‘I have some news,’ he said, his eyes alight with the secret. ‘I’m staying in Tasmania and I plan on coming over with Caesar every day to visit you.’
‘Don’t be absurd. You can’t stay in Tasmania for me. I shouldn’t ever have asked you to do that. It was wrong.’
‘I’m not staying for you; I’m staying for Caesar,’ he teased. ‘I’m settling down a bit, as you suggested.’
‘I shouldn’t
have said that, either,’ she said, hot with shame. ‘It’s your life. You need to do what makes you happy.’
‘I am.’
Elsa bit her lower lip, not daring to believe that what he was saying was true, and yet inside her was a flicker of hope that was growing in strength by the second. She let it sink in: Lincoln was staying here in Tasmania and she would be seeing him every day, along with that mad Caesar dog.
‘You better get me some water,’ she croaked. ‘This is quite a shock.’
He jumped up. ‘Of course.’
But she caught his hand as he passed and looked up into his eyes. ‘This makes me very happy.’
He leaned down and put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her to him. ‘Me too.’
Two months later
ECUADOR
It has been raining for weeks. Heavy, drumming, soaking rain that no one and nothing can escape. Rivers burst their banks, rush towards villages and engulf crops. The surface of the land is fluid. Nothing is dry. Nothing.
Everything and everyone has had to retreat and wait, patiently, for as long as it takes, for the waters to subside.
And when they do, they will find that the earth has changed shape and long-buried secrets will emerge into the light.
EVANDALE
Christmas had her textbooks open on the workbench, bunches of dried herbs and little blue bottles of pure essential oils nearby and a tank of chocolate beside her. She was working on a new range of chocolates, infused with medicinal levels of oils and herbs that had reputed pain-relieving properties. She’d recently found a course in France that taught aromatic medicine—ingesting essential oils for medicinal benefit—and the brochure was plastered to the stainless-steel fridge door, right next to Jackson Kent’s thank-you card for his DVD of The Sound of Music, which had arrived safely in Johannesburg.
Studying in France for a year was a mouth-watering prospect, not least because she’d reconnected with Mim and would love to spend more time with her, Hank and Margot. And Mim had sent her an email from America, saying that Margot had recently confided in her and told her about her first true love and true heartbreak—and that was what had been keeping Margot distracted and tight-lipped. Away from Paris, the boy in question and her circle of peers, Margot had let down her defences and Mim said she hadn’t felt this close to her daughter in a long time. Christmas wanted to hug them both, and she could do that, if she was back in France. She wasn’t yet sure how she could make a one-year course in France happen, but she was letting the idea sit for a while, to see if it might take root and grow into a real possibility.
Now that Cheyenne and Wilbur were settling in well together, Cheyenne might just be able to manage The Apothecary in Christmas’s absence. Christmas would have to work a bit harder at her French lessons, though, if she was going to be able to get by in France. She’d have to catch up with Lien, at least. Lien loved the fact that she was the star of their language cohort. And it made Christmas happy to see her succeeding and gaining confidence.
She leaned back on the stool and stretched her arms up high above her head, then let her left hand fall to the vintage brooch pinned to her shirt. It had been a gift from Elsa, from her very own collection.
‘It’s the bluebird of happiness,’ Elsa had said, placing it in Christmas’s palm and closing her fingers around it. ‘It’s brought me much luck over my life and now I want you to have it.’
‘It’s a great honour that you would give it to me,’ Christmas had said, looking to Lincoln quickly for approval. ‘Are you sure?’
Elsa sat back in her wheelchair, defiant. ‘No arguments.’ And then she reflected some more. ‘Besides, it’s as much for me as it is for you. Seeing you two happy together makes me happy too.’
‘Well, it’s beautiful, thank you. I’ll take great care of it.’ Christmas reached out her free hand to hold Lincoln’s, while his other hand rubbed methodically at Caesar’s ears on the bungalow floor beside him. Caesar was dressed in his Super-dog cape.
‘I always knew you two were supposed to be together,’ Elsa went on, while Christmas poured her some more tea.
‘Did you?’ she asked, genuinely surprised.
‘Oh yes. Rita tried to tell me it wouldn’t happen because we couldn’t see the light.’
Lincoln tilted his head to the side. ‘Light?’ And then he shot Christmas a furtive, panicked glance because Elsa was talking about seeing the light.
‘But I know now what happened,’ Elsa said. She looked at Christmas. ‘You were hiding your light, weren’t you? You didn’t want it to be seen.’ She smiled gleefully at this as though she’d cracked an agonising mystery.
Christmas replaced the teapot on the table and considered Elsa, impressed. ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I was afraid.’
Elsa clapped her hands and whooped. ‘Gosh, I wish Lulu could hear you say that. But Rita—we must tell Rita. Next time you come, can you tell her what you just told me?’
‘Sure,’ Christmas said uncertainly.
‘Excellent!’ Elsa reached for another of Christmas’s chocolate pralines. ‘I can’t wait to see her face.’
Now, sitting in the kitchen, Christmas smiled at the memory. Elsa was such a crafty old dear. And so sharp. She should take Rosemary and Gordon with her to visit Green Hills. Maybe they could put on a penny farthing display for the residents. And she was sure they’d get on with Elsa like a house on fire. Rosemary and Elsa were both so charismatic, and Gordon, she was discovering, had a cheeky sense of humour she knew Elsa would appreciate.
The grandfather clock—a recent addition to the store—chimed two o’clock, reminding Christmas to turn on the television. Emily, having originally gone to Melbourne as a researcher for the children’s show, had quickly been identified as genuine, raw, unaffected talent and dragged in front of the camera. Now she was presenting three days a week and loving it. She was a total natural too, Christmas thought. All those hours playing dress-up and making crafts with her nieces had paid off. It was lovely to see her star rising. And from what she’d hinted during their last phone call, the producer hadn’t just taken notice of her for her presenting talent. He liked her for a whole lot more than that.
Lincoln burst through the back door, startling her. A tower of biology assignments weighed him down. They were from his students; he was a lecturer now for an online university program, which meant he got to stay in Evandale and work from home. He hoisted the papers onto a bench, then pulled a beef bone out of a shopping bag and handed it to Caesar, telling him to stay outside in the garden. Then he turned back to face Christmas, a whirl of excitement, grabbed her by the arms and kissed her hard on the lips.
‘Wow!’ she said, coming up for air. ‘What was that for?’
‘I just got an email from the research station in Ecuador.’
‘And?’
He picked her up and spun her around before hoisting her up onto the bench and standing between her legs and kissing her again. ‘It’s the best news!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They found a new species!’ He thumped the bench in triumph. ‘It’s incredible. And I think it’s going to help you too. This might just be the magic cacao tree you’ve been looking for!’
She held his face in her hands, laughing. ‘Slow down. What are you talking about?’
Pulling away in his excitement, he began to pace the room. ‘There’s been widespread flooding in the Amazon, and now that the waters are receding they’ve found all sorts of things—buried treasure, ancient sites, crypts. And a very old tomb that, evidently, a small fraction of sunlight had already penetrated, because there was a clay pot in there, with seeds in it, which were often placed in tombs, but one of those seeds germinated and has grown into a sapling, and now that the tomb has been exposed they’ve found it! They’ve found it! A whole new variety of Theobroma cacao! Do you know what this means?’
Hope exploded in her chest, though she was hesitant to embrace it. ‘It’s a new lead?’ she said.
‘Exactly!’ He snapped his fingers, then ran them through his hair and laughed out loud. ‘It could be the Holy Grail of chocolate.’ He took a breath and calmed himself. ‘Or, it could be nothing. But that’s the thrill. That’s the chase. It’s what scientists love, and they want me to fly over as soon as possible and see what I think.’
Christmas slid off the bench. ‘But for how long?’
‘Just two weeks.’
‘Oh! I thought for a minute you were going . . . like, leaving me.’
He wrapped his arms around her. ‘No! I didn’t mean to scare you. Quite the opposite. I want you to come too.’
‘To the jungle? With snakes and leeches and poison darts?’
He let go of her and grinned again, his blue eyes sparkling. ‘Yep.’
‘Can I think about it?’
‘Nope. We’ve got to go tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?! Why can these people never give you more notice?’
‘Because they can’t plan a revelation like this. This is nature at her best—wild, unpredictable, dramatic and exhilarating! Come on,’ he said, twirling her around the room once more. ‘Think what this will do for your chocolate creations. You’ll be going to the home of chocolate, the very source of everything.’
It was an incredible opportunity. And as Master Le Coutre had said, how could you make chocolate if you didn’t even know where it came from?
‘Will you keep me safe from the beasties?’ she said, wincing.
‘I promise.’
‘What about Elsa?’ she said.
‘She’s busy organising the inaugural Green Hills book fair,’ he said, with an expression that suggested he knew Christmas was just looking for an excuse to back out. ‘And Caesar will be welcome at Green Hills, so you don’t have to worry about him either. And think about it—we’re hunting for the Cacao Queen that Master Le Coutre told you about. We’ll be right there, on the ground to find it!’
Her head spun. Her first instinct was to call Val to get her opinion, but she already knew exactly what her sister would say. She’d tell her to go and not think twice about it.
The Chocolate Promise Page 33
