The Chocolate Lovers’ Wedding (16 page)

Crush grabs the throw from the bed and leads me to the window. He opens it and climbs out onto the ledge.
‘Are we going to jump?’
‘I hadn’t planned on it,’ he says. ‘Come on, Gorgeous. Trust
me.’
He takes my hand and I climb up after him. Below us is the
flat roof of the hairdressing salon.
‘I’ve been having a sneaky look out here over the last few
weeks,’ Crush says. ‘I thought if we were going to stay living
in the flat, perhaps we could put a door in where the window
is and turn this into a roof terrace.’
He makes the short jump, then he holds out his arms and
lifts me down too. It’s not very inspiring at the moment: a bit
of patchy roofing felt, some broken tiles and a moderately
interesting view across the roofs of Camden, but I see what he
means – with some money and effort thrown in, it could be
great.
‘It wouldn’t be that hard,’ he continues. ‘It needs a good
tidy, but we could put a bit of trellis up, add a few pots, some
cheap and cheerful garden furniture and Bob’s your uncle.’ ‘He’s not going to move in with us too, is he?’
Crush laughs. ‘A roof terrace is a nice idea, but maybe moving
somewhere with more bedrooms would be more practical for
when your relatives descend on us unannounced.’
Then he wraps the throw round our shoulders and we sit
down with our backs to the wall, sheltered from the breeze.
The moon is high in the sky, the clouds scudding across it.
Huddling together for warmth, we gaze out over the rooftops
and even the usual background hum of traffic fades away. I’m
wishing we’d thought to bring a bottle of wine out with us –
but that would have meant accessing the kitchen, which is
currently a no-go zone as it means traversing the flesh-pot of
my living room.
Flicking my head back towards the flat, I say, ‘This has
shown me that this isn’t entirely my home. Mum owns it. She
could sell it tomorrow or, God forbid, move in. I seem to have
no say in the matter. If we can, I would rather get our own
place.’
‘It’ll be tough if we want to stay in London. We’re both on
half-decent salaries yet we’d struggle to afford a cupboard.’ I cosy up to him some more. ‘But it would be
our
cupboard.’ He laughs. ‘Your glass is always half full.’
‘There’s a flat above Chocolate Heaven. Ms France is living
there at the moment, but she’s not going to be around for ever
if I know Marcus.’ Which I do only too well. ‘Perhaps I could
persuade him to rent it to us while we save up for a deposit.’ ‘You know how I feel about Marcus. I don’t want our lives
mixed up in his. It’s bad enough that you work for him.’ ‘It’s fine,’ I say. ‘He’s happy that the business is back on track
and he doesn’t have to worry about it. He’s being quite sweet.’ ‘That’s when he’s at his most dangerous.’
‘You’re right.’ I sigh. ‘As always.’
‘I only have your best interests at heart.’
I rest my head on his shoulder. ‘I’m really glad that I’m
marrying you. You’re so sensible.’
Crush chuckles softly. ‘I hope I have more qualities than
that.’
‘I would regale you with them all,’ I say, stifling a yawn. ‘But
it’s a long list and I’m getting very sleepy and we both have to
be up early in the morning. Do you think my parents might
have . . . um . . .
finished
by now?’
‘Want me to check whether the coast is clear?’
I nod.
Crush lifts himself back through the window. A few seconds
later, he pops his head out again. ‘All quiet on the Western
Front.’
Thank heavens for that. Now all we’ll have to contend with
is the snoring.
‘Give me your hands and I’ll pull you up,’ Crush says. ‘Step
on that little pile of bricks.’
With less elegance than I’d like, I also clamber through the
window and back into our bedroom. Then I creep down the
hall to the living room and, as all is still quiet, I risk a peep at
my parents.
They’re snuggled up together, a tangle of arms and legs on
the sofa. There are contented smiles on their faces and – despite
the noisy bit – it warms my heart to see them happy. I wish they could be in love like this all the time. They
seem to be unable to live together, yet life apart doesn’t seem
that great either. If only they could find contentment with
each other as they grow older. My dad can be really annoying
and my mum’s so high-maintenance, but there’s clearly something that pulls them back together. If only they could nurture
that. They might drive me to distraction, but I love them so
much and do worry about them. I don’t want either of them
to be alone. Doesn’t everyone want a companion in life, even if it’s one who leaves the loo seat up or spends too much in
Debenhams?
Leaving them in peace, I go back to the bedroom. Crush is
already under the duvet and I cuddle into his side. ‘Let’s be in love for ever,’ I whisper.
‘OK,’ he murmurs back. ‘I’m up for that.’
I want a strong abiding love that grows as we do. I don’t
want drama, distrust and broken dreams. I want slow, steady,
settled. I want to build a family that sticks together through
thick and thin. I want to be with Crush in the sunset of our
lives when we’ve got bent backs and fingers that can’t open jam
jars, but maybe would still be passionate enough, every now
and then, to have noisy sex on the sofa. But only when the kids
are out.
He puts his arm round me and I feel loved and protected. I
rest my head on his heart and, feeling its strong, steady beat,
I fall asleep.

Autumn stood outside her parents’ house. It was big, imposing and had never felt like her home. Now she could hardly remember when she’d last been to visit them here; you could certainly never just drop in. If she wanted to see her mother and father, she had to make an appointment. They both had very busy schedules.

When she rang the bell, her father opened the door. Until recently they’d had a number of staff running their home – a housekeeper who had been with them for many years, a cook and a cleaner. They were from old money and expected to be looked after. Since the housekeeper had retired, they managed with one Romanian lady who came in each day to clean and leave them a prepared dinner. She supposed it was their way of becoming more modern.

‘Autumn,’ her father said by way of greeting. No hug. No kiss. ‘We’re just finishing supper. Come through.’
They were sitting at a table in the kitchen opposite each other, a plate of cold meats and cheese between them.
‘Hello, darling.’ Her mother, fork in hand, looked up from the pile of legal papers that were next to her plate. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Wine?’
‘That would be nice.’
Her father poured her a glass and she took off her coat, hung it on the back of one of the spare seats and then sat down. In any other family, this would be a nice, cosy scene, Autumn thought.
‘What are you doing with your days?’ her father asked.
Which was the same as asking if she’d found a job yet. She hated the fact that at her stage in life she was still entirely dependent on her parents. They paid for her flat, a not ungenerous allowance went into her bank account every month and yet the one thing that she wanted from them was never on offer. Their time and their love was doled out piecemeal, as it always had been.
‘I’m considering my options.’ It sounded as if she was dodging the question, but she wasn’t. She literally had no idea which direction her life should take. She wanted to settle down with Miles, have another baby – one who would stay in her care. But, beyond that, she just wasn’t entirely sure what the future held.
‘You wanted to see us about something?’ her mother asked.
It showed the state of their relationship that she couldn’t simply drop in without reason. They knew so little about her life. She hadn’t even told them about Miles or Flo.
‘Yes.’ She tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘I have something to tell you.’
Perhaps it was the tone of her voice, but they did both have the grace to pay attention. Autumn took a strengthening swig of her wine before she said, ‘I’ve found Willow.’
There was no recognition on either of their faces.
‘My daughter,’ she added.
Even then, it took a moment to register with them both. Her mother flushed scarlet.
‘She’s a beautiful young woman now,’ Autumn continued.
Her mother took off her glasses and laid them on the table. Autumn noticed her hand was shaking. ‘Oh, my.’
‘She’s fourteen now.’ Her mouth was drying. ‘The same age as when I had her.’
‘Autumn,’ her mother said. ‘I can understand you wanting to see her. But are you sure this is the right thing to do? This could cause an awful lot of upset. It’s all in the past now.’
She turned on her mother and spoke crisply. ‘Do you really think that? How can you possibly imagine that it’s in the past for me? Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about her and wondered where she was. I have regretted my decision every single hour of my life.’
‘Well,’ her mother said, tightly. ‘What else could we have done? We did what was best. You were in a terrible state.’
‘I was a
child
. I needed your support.’
‘You needed us to protect you. We had to sort out the mess you’d made. Daddy and I couldn’t have looked after a baby for you.’ She looked at her husband for his approval and he nodded in agreement.
‘Your mother’s right. We have very busy careers.’
‘You could have thrown money at it, like you always do. I could have left school, had home tutors, had a nanny to help me. There were a dozen different scenarios that could have worked if the will had been there.’
‘I don’t think so, Autumn,’ her father said. ‘It was the
only
solution.’
‘It was the quickest and easiest for you. My wishes weren’t even considered. You wanted my baby swept under the carpet and that’s exactly what happened.’
Her mother’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t know how you can say that. You knew nothing of life, Autumn. Otherwise you wouldn’t have found yourself in that situation. You barely knew the boy. From what I recall, he was a casual labourer at the school.’
‘He was a gardener.’
Her mother pursed her lips. ‘Could he have looked after you? What future was there in it?’
‘We’ll never know, will we?’
‘You jumped into bed with the first person who asked. That’s no way to behave.’
‘All I wanted was some affection, some love.’
‘Well,’ her mother folded her arms. ‘You certainly got more than you bargained for then.’ She snorted. ‘
Affection
.’
‘You had no idea how lonely I was. I loathed every minute I was at that school.’
‘It’s the finest school that money can buy,’ her father said.
‘And look what good it did me and Richard.’ Tears burned behind her eyes. ‘You packed us both off to school as soon as you possibly could, without a backward glance. You couldn’t even bear to look after your own children, let alone my baby. We were never anything other than an inconvenience to you.’
Both of her parents had blanched.
‘You know that isn’t true,’ her mother insisted. ‘We did our best.’
‘It wasn’t good enough,’ Autumn said. ‘Richard and I were everything to each other because we had no one else. You were never there for either of us. Even when we came home for the school holidays you hardly saw us. There was always something else you had to attend to.’
‘You had excellent care.’
‘We had a string of nannies. Some better than others. Even if you took us abroad, you’d be socialising with your friends while we were left to entertain ourselves.’ Now that she’d started, she felt as if a dam had burst inside her. All the hurt of her childhood years came pouring out. Things that she’d never said to her parents before were rushing to the tip of her tongue. ‘We were desperately unhappy children and both of us struggled for years. Richard never did find what he was looking for.’
‘Your brother is an entirely different matter,’ her father said. ‘He was very troubled.’
‘And you left him to sort it out all by himself. He
needed
you. I did all I could, but he needed you, too. You’re his parents. Yet you were never there for him.’
‘I beg to differ,’ her father said. ‘We bought him a place to live – a very nice one. Paid for his rehab. Time and time again.’
‘But did you ever sit and talk to him? Did you ever want to know what he felt like inside? Did you spend an evening with him where you didn’t lecture him about being a waste of space?’ Her blood was boiling. Even talking about Richard still caused her so much pain. ‘You’ve never even grieved for him. You don’t even mention him. It’s as if he never existed. I don’t even know if you remember that you had a son.’
‘I’m sorry you feel like that.’ Her father was grim faced.
‘We gave you
everything
,’ her mother said, a note of sadness in her voice.
‘Not the things we needed.’ She fixed her eyes on her mother. ‘All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and it seemed as if that was just too much to ask of you. All you ever cared about was money and status.’
Her parents sat there looking stunned. It wasn’t surprising, as she’d never spoken to them like that before. She’d always been the good daughter, kowtowing to their wishes. Not anymore. As soon as she could, she’d get a job, stand on her own two feet and would cut them out of her lives. They were toxic and she wanted nothing more to do with them. She felt that a weight had lifted from her chest.
Autumn stood up and shrugged on her coat. ‘I just thought you’d want to know that my daughter is back in my life and I couldn’t be happier. There’s been a terrible hole in my heart since the day you took her from me. I want to prove to her that she is and has always been the most precious person.’
Neither her mother nor father responded. They were top barristers, paid hundreds of pounds an hour to argue in courts, yet they didn’t have anything to say to her. They simply sat ghostly white and open-mouthed.
‘I thought you might want to meet Willow, your granddaughter. I see that was pie in the sky.’ She snatched up her handbag. ‘Well, I’m going to do all that I can to make up for abandoning her. I’m going to try to claw back those lost years by having her in my life. She’s beautiful, clever and feisty. It’s you who’ll be missing out, not her.’
With that she left them wide-eyed and gaping and slammed the front door behind her.

Chantal thought that the first meeting after Ted and Stacey returned from the States would be slightly awkward and she wasn’t yet being proved wrong. The atmosphere was tense. Stacey could barely meet her eye and both of the girls, as if feeding off the mood, were fractious.