The Chocolate Lovers’ Wedding (6 page)

‘No, Lucy!’ Crush says, emphatically. ‘I won’t have it.’ ‘But—’
‘It’s not often I put my foot down, but I won’t have you

working for Marcus. It’s a ridiculous idea.’
‘But—’
‘No buts.’ He holds up a hand. ‘There are dozens of jobs

Something that doesn’t involve Marcus bloody Canning.’ ‘The salary’s enormous.’
‘I’d rather live off baked beans than be beholden to Marcus

for our money.’
I tell him the exact sum. Crush has the good grace to gasp.
It is a very gasp-worthy amount.
‘I won’t be able to earn that anywhere else, you know that.
I just plucked a number out of my head and he agreed.’ Makes
me wish that I’d plucked a bigger number now.
‘It makes me worry even more that there will be a catch.’ ‘What if I do it – just give it a try – until the wedding? If
it’s not working out then, after that, I’ll leave.’
‘It won’t be that simple, Gorgeous. It never is with Marcus.’ ‘I don’t know what it is with Marcus – why everyone thinks
he has some Machiavellian hold over me. He’s just a bloody
annoying ex-boyfriend, nothing more.’
‘Remember the canal incident in Bruges?’ Crush reminds me. How could I forget? Marcus tricked me into going to a chocolate conference in Bruges, which he just happened to pop up
at. Also due to him, I ended up going for an impromptu midnight
swim in one of the many canals there. If it hadn’t been for
Crush coming to my rescue I could have drowned at the bottom
of that murky and, frankly, rather smelly stretch of water. It
was
so
humiliating. I had a fish in my bra, a cold in my nose
and a deep loathing of Marcus in my heart.
But, here’s the rub. I’m not the sort of person to hold a
grudge. He’s made mistakes. I’ve made mistakes. Rather too
many of them, it might be said. Who hasn’t? Let he who is
without stain and living in a glass house cast the first stone.
Or whatever.
‘You could get to know Marcus,’ I suggest. ‘Then you might
not see him as so much of a threat.’
‘Why on earth would I want to do that?’
‘For me,’ I say and, as all the fight goes out of Crush, the
doorbell rings. I really hope that isn’t Marcus or I’m a goner.
‘I’ll get it.’
I bolt downstairs to the door, praying, praying, praying that
Marcus Canning isn’t standing there. But he isn’t. It’s my dad.
With a suitcase.
‘Dad? What are you doing here?’
‘I find myself temporarily homeless.’ He is red-eyed and
looks miserable. ‘Patty has thrown me out.’
Patty the pencil-thin Pilates instructor.
‘Oh.’
‘Your mother said that I could stay in the flat for a while.’ ‘That’s very nice of her.’
‘I didn’t know where else to turn,’ he confesses. ‘It was kind
of her to be so accommodating.’
‘Yeah, I’ll say. Has she forgotten that Crush and I live here?’
Technically, my mother owns this place, but she hasn’t been
near it in years. I rent it from her at a knock-down price which
gives me a great address and the ability to take in random
lodgers of her choosing, it seems.
‘It won’t be for long and I won’t take up much room.’ That looks like a very big suitcase to me.
‘Don’t keep your dear old dad standing at the door.’ ‘Sorry, sorry. Come on in.’ It’s just that my brain is trying
to process where my father is actually going to sleep, being as
there’s the slight inconvenience of the flat only having one
bedroom and that being already occupied by me and my loved
one.
‘I haven’t been here in a long, long time,’ Dad puffs as he
hauls his case upstairs.
Long enough to forget that he’s going to be on the sofa
tonight, it would appear.
When he comes into the living room, he recoils slightly. Now
he’s remembered just how small it is.
Crush is still a little bit purple in the face after our Marcusrelated spat and he looks even more shaken when he claps eyes
on my dad.
‘Hello, there. Nice to see you.’ Crush recovers well. ‘What
are you doing in this neck of the woods?’
‘He’s come to stay.’ I roll my eyes behind Dad’s back. ‘My
mother said he could. It’s just for a few days.’
‘Or weeks,’ Dad chips in. ‘A couple of months at the most.
Until I can get on my feet.’
‘Well.’ Crush grasps his hand and shakes it. ‘That’s great.’ We all know that it isn’t.
‘This is it, Dad,’ I say, gesturing at the not-very-extensive extent of the lounge. ‘Our humble abode. We haven’t knocked through into next door or gone up into the attic, because there isn’t one. We haven’t gone iceberg with a two-storey basement with staff quarters because the hairdressers might object. There’s one bedroom and you’re on the sofa. I love you to bits, but this
has to be a
very
temporary measure.’
‘Right,’ Dad says, looking a bit paler than he did before.
‘Right.’
Crush gives me a sideways glance. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ ‘Have you got any organic soya milk?’ Dad asks. ‘Patty weaned
me off dairy. She thought I was lactose intolerant.’ ‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s the usual stuff that comes out of a cow’s
bum or you can lump it.’
‘That’ll be fine then,’ Dad says, looking a bit put out. Organic soya milk, my arse. How do you even milk a soya? He glances round him in dismay. ‘Where shall I put my case?’ ‘Anywhere as long as it’s not in front of the telly,’ I suggest.
‘I’d better find you some spare sheets.’
‘I hope I haven’t interrupted your evening.’
‘No, no, no,’ Crush says as he returns with the tea. Yes, I think. Yes, you flipping have. I was hoping to conclude
our evening’s little misunderstanding with some fabulous, mindblowing make-up sex on the rug in front of the fire. That’s
certainly not going to happen now. In fact, these walls are so
paper thin that it’s not going to happen in the bedroom either.
It’s not that I’m an over-enthusiastic moaner or a screamer, but
no one wants sex in the room right next to their parent, right?
I shudder just thinking about it. I wonder if we could get away
with doing it in the bath with the shower running. Maybe not. While Dad is faffing about with his stuff, I pull Crush into
the bedroom. ‘I’m really sorry about this,’ I whisper. ‘I had no
idea.’
‘It’s fine,’ he says, ever affable. ‘We’ll manage.’
But will we? I know my father. He’s very annoying. And has
the hide of a rhino. I don’t like to see him turfed out on his
ear, but we must not make him
too
comfortable. My dad’s idea
of temporary might not be quite the same as mine.

Autumn adjusted her jumper and looked at herself in the mirror. Tidy. Ish. Not too bohemian. Today, she wanted nothing more than to look like she was capable of being a respectable mother. She’d even tried to tame her mad hair, with somewhat mixed results. Bits kept escaping from the knot she’d twisted it into. In the end, she gave up and let it do its own thing as usual. Perhaps Willow would like her just as she was. Her stomach churned with anxiety simply thinking about it. She didn’t think she’d ever been quite so nervous about anything.

Miles came behind her and slipped his arms round her waist. ‘You look great,’ he said. ‘Stop worrying.’
‘I’m terrified,’ Autumn admitted. She’d arranged to meet Willow and her adoptive mother, Mary, this morning and her stomach was churning at the very thought.
‘She’ll love you.’
‘Will she, though?’ Autumn chewed her lip. ‘What if she hates me and simply wants to tell me that to my face?’ Another wave of nausea rushed up. ‘I’ve never been to a meeting that’s more important to me. It
has
to go well.’ She felt as if the rest of her life depended on this moment. If it didn’t, she could lose Willow all over again.
‘Are you sure that you don’t want me to come with you? I hate to see you so worried. We could ask Lucy to look after Flo for a couple of hours.’
‘She’s going with Chantal for her breast screening today, so I know she’s not around.’ Autumn had already called Chantal first thing this morning to wish her luck with her mammogram. ‘Besides, much as I’d love to have you there, I think I should go by myself. This is going to be difficult for all of us.’
‘You might be surprised. Keep an open mind.’
Autumn felt a tear roll down her face, making a track in the make-up that she’d so carefully put on for the occasion. ‘I just want her to like me.’ She wiped the tear away with a tissue. ‘That’s all. I want the chance to explain that I loved her and always have.’
‘Surely she wouldn’t have looked for you if she didn’t want to hear that.’
‘You’re right,’ Autumn said and she turned and hugged Miles tightly. He was such a caring man and she felt so lucky that he’d come into her life. She couldn’t imagine it now without him.
‘I’d better get a move on. I’ll sort the kitchen out and take Flo to the park. She’s missing Lewis now that he’s at school every morning.’
‘It won’t be long before she goes herself,’ Autumn said. ‘Enjoy this time with her.’
‘It will be better for us financially when she starts school, and it will mean that I don’t have to work so many evenings, but I don’t want to wish the time away either.’
Autumn didn’t like to point out to him that the last thing they needed to worry about was money. Her parents might be cold and detached, but it meant that they were always keen to dole out cash. Even if what was really needed was emotional support. She shouldn’t complain, though. They’d been generous to her recently and she had a large sum of money just sitting in her account waiting for her to do something with it. She could start a business, give it to a charity, use it to help a friend – there were endless possibilities.
‘I’ll get your coat,’ Miles said and Autumn snapped back to the present.
‘Thank you.’ She went into the kitchen where Flo was finishing her breakfast. ‘Give me a kiss, sweetheart.’
The little girl jumped down from her chair and Autumn cuddled her. Miles had washed Flo’s hair last night and she still smelled of strawberry shampoo. Autumn breathed it in. She really wanted this relationship to work out, as she would love to have another child – one that would be with her, that she’d see grow up. She wanted to teach him or her to walk, talk, make their way in life and only hoped that she’d have a second chance to get it right. ‘Have a lovely day with Daddy. I’ll see you later.’
‘Love you for ever.’ Flo squeezed her with her chubby little arms and Autumn’s heart melted.
‘Love you too, pumpkin.’
Autumn headed to the front door and Miles was standing there waiting, her coat in his hand. Most of her stuff was now spread between their two places. She loved seeing Miles’s toothbrush, his sweaters at her flat, his book on the bedside table even though he could only stay over when it was his ex’s night with Florence. They were already thinking of moving in together but, understandably, Miles wanted to take it slowly and let Flo get used to the idea. Not to mention letting his ex-wife get used to the idea, too. She suddenly seemed to be feeling a little strange about Miles having someone permanent in his life. Autumn just hoped that she didn’t cause any trouble.
Miles kissed her deeply. ‘Call me as soon as you can. Let me know how it went.’
Putting her hands in her pockets, Autumn was surprised to find something already there. She pulled out a bar of chocolate.
Grinning, Miles said, ‘Emergency supplies.’
‘That’s very thoughtful.’ She pecked him on the cheek. ‘Wish me luck.’
‘You won’t need it,’ he said.

They were meeting at a café near Blackfriars Tube – somewhere that Miles had previously used for business meetings and had recommended. How she missed Chocolate Heaven. She would have been more at ease there, in familiar surroundings and with Lucy’s smiling face behind the counter. Meetings as critical as this needed the perfect backdrop. Damn Marcus and his manipulation, although part of her wished that Lucy could go back there. It had been Lucy’s ideal job and Autumn hated to see her friend rudderless without it. It was a shame that she hadn’t been able to buy it instead of Marcus. Perhaps if it wasn’t going well he would consider selling, but it was a huge financial commitment for anyone. Property prices around here weren’t conducive to setting up a small business.

The Literary Café was small and decorated to look like a bookshop. The walls were lined with shelves of battered paperback books; each coffee table had a library desk lamp and was flanked by blood-red Chesterfield sofas. There was a table of the latest bestsellers for sale in the middle. It was as nice and cosy as Miles had said. A good choice. If it wasn’t quite so out of their way, it might have made a good replacement for Chocolate Heaven. Perhaps she would bring the ladies of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club back here for a trial run. Though, no doubt, Lucy would find some reason to dislike it.

There was no sign of Willow and Mary yet and Autumn checked her watch. Ten minutes to go. She ordered a coffee and perused the counter display. Ah. Weakness spotted. Lucy would certainly pour scorn on their poor choice of chocolatey cakes. Autumn chose a breakfast muffin covered in seeds and sat by the window. She sipped at her coffee and nibbled the muffin, even though she wasn’t in the slightest bit hungry, and leafed through the couple of paperbacks she’d picked from the stack on the table without really seeing them.

Her stomach was steadily tightening with anxiety when, at last, a woman came in and looked around nervously. She was obviously searching for someone and Autumn wondered if it was her. This lady was alone, though, and Autumn’s heart sank. If this was Mary then, for some reason, Willow hadn’t come with her.

The woman scanned the tables, her face creased with concern. She looked kind, a little harried and was in her late forties or possibly a little older. She was well-groomed, her clothes expensive, classic. Autumn was glad that she’d made a little more effort with her appearance this morning, but she still felt very young in comparison. This woman was probably much the same age as Autumn’s own mother and that was something she hadn’t really considered before.

It was now or never. Autumn stood up and spoke out. ‘Mary?’ Her head swivelled in Autumn’s direction. ‘Yes.’ ‘I’m Autumn.’ She held out her hand.
‘Oh,’ the woman said, taken aback. ‘I was looking for

someone older.’
Autumn smiled. ‘I was very young when I had Willow.’ ‘Oh. Yes, yes. I did know that.’ Mary took her hand and

covered it with her own. ‘It’s just that, well. Well . . . ’ She seemed lost for words.
‘This is all terribly difficult, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Dreadful.’
‘Thank you for coming. I do appreciate that it’s not easy. For either of us.’ Autumn double-checked that the woman was alone. ‘I hoped that Willow would be with you.’
‘So did I.’ Mary frowned, worried. ‘I’m afraid that I have rather a lot to tell you.’
Autumn felt her mouth go dry and her heart was racing. She hoped that nothing too awful was wrong. Let it not be a terrible setback before they’d even started. She tried to sound more calm than she felt. ‘Then you sit down and let me get you a coffee.’
Mary looked relieved and grateful. Autumn took her order and headed to the counter. When she went to pay for the cappuccino, her hands were trembling. Putting the coffee on the table between them, Autumn sat down again. She forced herself to sit back and not perch on the edge of the sofa.
‘I’m shaking inside,’ Mary said.
Autumn managed a thin laugh. ‘Me too.’
‘I never thought this day would come,’ Mary confessed. ‘I always knew that it might be on the horizon, but you think if you do a good enough job, if you’re the best mother that you possibly can be to your child, that they’ll never want to find their birth mother. You always hope in your heart that you’ll be enough.’
Autumn didn’t know what to say.
‘But it’s not, is it?’ she continued, letting out a weary breath. ‘Blood, as they say, is very much thicker than water.’ There was an edge of bitterness in her tone that she couldn’t hide. Mary sipped her coffee and composed herself. ‘I’ve done my best for her, for Willow.’
‘I’m sure you have.’
‘She was a lovely baby,’ Mary said. ‘So happy, contented.’
Autumn was both relieved and saddened to hear it. She’d missed it all, but Willow had clearly had a mother who’d loved her dearly. She couldn’t have hoped for more.
‘She was always so easy and she was the apple of her father’s eye. I’ve brought some photographs.’ Mary fumbled in her handbag and handed them over.
Autumn looked at the family shots. It was like looking at a mirror image of herself. They had the same-shaped face, the same mouth and, of course, the same wild auburn hair – she couldn’t have escaped that.
‘She was three then,’ Mary said, smiling fondly. ‘Six in that one by the seaside.’
‘She looks lovely.’
Mary raised a disapproving eyebrow. ‘Willow doesn’t look like that now. Goth phase.’ She shook her head, bewildered. ‘I think that’s what you call it. All black eyeliner and ripped tights.’
Autumn had toyed with that look herself, more to annoy her parents than for any other reason.
Mary handed her phone to Autumn. A sulky teenage girl, caked in make-up, glowered back from the screen, but there was still no mistaking the family resemblance. It was like looking at herself at the same age. A lump came to her throat and, tenderly, Autumn ran a finger over the image. This was her child. After all these years, she finally knew what she looked like. She fought down the sob that threatened to escape. Her b a b y.
‘She’s quite headstrong,’ Mary said, regretfully. ‘All the sunny side of her has gone. I told her she’s too young to be looking for you, but she wouldn’t listen. I wanted her to wait until she was eighteen, at least. It used to be more difficult for adopted children to trace their birth mothers, but now with the internet . . . ’ Mary shrugged. ‘It really wasn’t that hard. We’ve never hidden anything from her. You think that’s for the best.’
She couldn’t stop looking at the picture of her child. The ache of the lost years was almost unbearable. ‘Did you ask her not to come?’
‘No.’ Mary grimaced. ‘If I’d done that, then she
definitely
would have been here. Whatever I ask Willow to do, she’ll invariably do the opposite.’
‘If it’s a consolation, I’m sure most teenagers are the same. I know I was.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ she agreed grudgingly. ‘Doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.’
‘No,’ she sympathised. ‘I’m sure not.’ Oh, God, how she wished that Willow had just come along today. Now her insides were even more twisted with anxiety than they had been. It was easy to sympathise with Mary but much harder to know how to address the situation.
‘My husband died two years ago. Quite unexpectedly,’ Mary continued. ‘That’s him there with Willow.’ She pointed to one of the photographs. He was a tall, handsome man with an easy smile. ‘We’d been a happy family until then. She was a very affable little girl. Everyone adored her. We’d all jogged along contentedly. We were lucky, there were very few lows. We gave her an idyllic childhood, you know.’
Autumn choked back the tears. ‘I’m very grateful for that.’
‘Willow has struggled since Charles has been gone. She’s not the same child. There’s a hole in her world and she doesn’t know how to fill it.’
Oh, my poor child, Autumn thought. She knew what it was like to be grieving. ‘My brother, Rich, died too young. And I still have the feeling that something’s missing in my life. It doesn’t ever end.’ She hated to think that Willow was going through the same pain. How much worse to lose the only father you’ve known.
Rich had been the only person who knew about Willow. He’d always supported her, always assured her that one day her daughter would come to find her. She only hoped he could see her now. She’d like to think that he could.
‘She thinks that finding you will be the answer,’ Mary added, reluctantly.
She was terrified to ask, but she had to know. ‘And you don’t want her to?’
‘Willow talks about nothing else, but I’m frightened for her, Autumn.’ Mary reached out to touch her arm and then thought better of it. She let her hand fall back. ‘Despite her fierce makeup, she’s very vulnerable. I don’t think she’s mature enough to cope with this. She thinks she is. Of course she does. But she’s still a child and Willow is pinning a lot of her hopes on you. I don’t want her to be let down again.’
Autumn felt her throat tighten. Her heart went out to her daughter, that bonny, beaming baby from the photographs in front of her who’d grown into a troubled teenager. ‘I loved her, Mary. I never wanted to give her up.’
‘I understand some of your background. The adoption agency told me a little about it.’
‘I was forced to give up Willow by my parents. It was the worst decision of my life.’ Autumn fought back another sob. ‘I’ve regretted it ever since. But I was dependent on them for everything and I felt that I had no option. I had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to. I’m only glad that you were able to give her a loving, stable home.’
‘I’m afraid that isn’t always enough.’ Tears filled Mary’s eyes. ‘She wants you, too. But as much as she wants it, she’s scared. Just before we left she engineered an argument and stormed off. She’s done it each time we were due to meet. I was on the verge of cancelling again, then I decided that I would come alone to talk to you. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘I’m very glad that you did.’ If she could build a relationship with Mary, then perhaps Willow would feel more able to trust her.
‘I confess that I wanted to see what you looked like, too,’ she admitted. ‘If you’d been covered in tattoos and high on drugs then I would have done everything I could to dissuade her from seeing you. She needs a positive role model in her life, not someone to lead her astray.’
‘I understand that. You’re only trying to protect her.’ In Mary’s position she would have done exactly the same.
‘I think she’s afraid of being rejected.’ Mary shook her head. ‘It would break her heart to see you if you then didn’t want to have anything to do with her.’
‘I have no intention of doing that. I would love the chance to have even a small part of her back in my life.’
‘I feel happier now that I’ve met you.’ Mary dabbed at her eyes with a tissue from her pocket. ‘I’d built this up in my mind to be a terrible hurdle. I dreaded seeing you.’ She gave a watery laugh. ‘It sounds silly now. I didn’t really know what to expect. I pictured the worst. You seem like a very sensible and stable young woman.’
‘I’m in a good place, Mary.’ She thought of Miles and Flo at home and knew that she could offer Willow something good and wholesome. ‘And I’m grateful that you felt able to make contact with the agency for Willow.’
‘I didn’t want to,’ she admitted. ‘I’m worried that everything I’ve done for her will count for nothing in the end.’
Autumn slipped across and sat on the sofa next to her. She put her arm round Mary and hugged her tight. ‘I’m not a threat to you. I want to do all I can to make this easier. I’m sure that, together, we can steer Willow through this and help each other.’
‘I’d like that,’ Mary said. Then they held onto each other and cried.