The Chocolate Lovers' Club (39 page)

Nadia felt her insides turn to water. Could she give her husband the benefit of the doubt too? If she closed her eyes she could still feel the warm desert air on her skin, see the terror on Toby’s face as he tumbled backwards, falling away from her to his death. Had he really meant to let go, or had there been a moment when he’d considered climbing back over those rails, hoping that they could put things right, knowing that they still had a marriage? She wondered what had been going through his mind. Had he really been determined to end his life, or was it nothing more than a pitiful cry for help? The fact that she’d never really know the truth would haunt her for the rest of her life.

The letter continued that if this was, indeed, the case and the Coroner’s expected verdict was confirmed, then she would be entitled to receive a pay-out from Toby’s life insurance policy. A sum of nearly one hundred thousand pounds.
One hundred thousand pounds
. The words blurred
together, the figure banging against her brain as relief flooded through her. She felt it was about time that something went her way. Nadia rubbed her hands over her face, trying to let the details sink in. She could only hope that the insurance company’s initial assessment was correct. Surely they wouldn’t commit their findings to paper unless they were certain of the outcome? They wouldn’t raise her hopes only to dash them again? With a hundred thousand pounds in the bank, she could pay off the loan she’d taken from Chantal and maybe even reduce the mortgage to a level that she could manage by herself – assuming, of course, that someone was willing to employ a woman like her, who’d been a stay-at-home mum for the last four years. Her business skills might be rusty and her suits a little tight around the waistband, but with a little luck, someone would be able to see that she still had a lot to offer.

The credit-card company was still hounding her over the debts that Toby had run up via the online casino sites and in the real deal in Vegas. The sum amounted to over one hundred and thirty thousands pounds, with interest accruing every month. Her lawyer was still convinced that they could come to a settlement where Nadia would only pay back a fraction of the outstanding amount, or that some of the credit-card companies would discover that they had a heart of gold after all and would cancel the debt completely. The national newspapers were keeping a close eye on developments, which might well help her cause. The credit-card companies might be reluctant to look bad in print.

She needed to make sure that she could provide a stable
home environment for Lewis, who had been through too much recently. All she wanted for him was a happy life and she’d do her very best to give him that.

Autumn was going to look after her son while Nadia went to a job interview this afternoon. Her stomach became a mass of nerves just thinking about it. The job was a good one – selling advertising for a local online television station that had just started up. She could do it – she knew she could. All she needed was the chance to prove it.

Nadia broke the last of the Hob-Nobs in two and ate it, enjoying the chocolate-y sensation. She crossed her arms, wrapping them round her body, and gave herself a big hug. Whatever happened, it was time to look to the future.

Chapter Ninety-One

‘
I
f you could put down your chocolate for long enough, you could help me with one of these boxes,’ Crush says.

‘Oh, yeah. Sure.’ I was just having a celebratory Mars Bar – you know how it is.

Watching Aiden struggle with a load of CDs and DVDs, I can’t help but smile to myself – not because he’s struggling, but because he’s here at all. I’ve never had a permanent roommate before – not one that I was intimately involved with, anyway – and I feel a thrill of joy rush through me when I think that he’s really moving in with me. Really,
really
moving in with me. ‘Better still,’ I say, ‘why don’t you put that box down, I’ll flick the kettle on and we can share this chocolate?’

He dumps the box immediately and flops down onto my rug. ‘You’re a very hard woman to say no to.’

I stroke his face. ‘You look all in.’

‘Well, I have been humping and dumping boxes since first light,’ he informs me as if I didn’t know. His friend has loaned him a van to move his stuff and he has to return it by four this afternoon. Crush grins at me. ‘This is hard work. Very soon I might have to lie down and take all my clothes off.’

‘You stay right there.’ Planting a kiss on Crush’s nose, I then wade through the sea of boxes that’s washed up in my living room to make my way to the kitchen. I never knew that guys had so much stuff. There are clothes, magazines, gadgets galore, and I’ll swear that Aiden Holby has more cosmetics than I do. I love the thought of fighting for face space in the bathroom mirror with him every morning. Though I hope that he doesn’t hog the shower like Marcus did. When my ex-boyfriend finally emerged, there was never any hot water left for me. Says a lot about our relationship, I think. Crush would never leave me with lukewarm leftovers.

The thought of Marcus pokes a pin into my happy bubble. This morning I received a postcard from him. It was posted in Mauritius and shows a beautiful tropical paradise – ideal for loved-up honeymoon couples. All it says on the back, in Marcus’s spidery writing, is
Wish you were here
. And there are two forlorn kisses on the bottom. It makes my heart ache for him and I wonder if Marcus is there alone. If he is, then he has no one to blame but himself. It makes me sigh, anyway.

‘Where’s that tea, Gorgeous?’ Crush shouts from the lounge. ‘I thought you might rush back to join me on the rug.’

Smiling, I shout back, ‘Coming!’

I look at the postcard once again and very deliberately and very carefully tear it into tiny little shreds before throwing it into my wastepaper bin.

‘What’s that?’ Crush asks from the doorway behind me.

‘Nothing important,’ I tell him.

‘Do you know how much I love you?’ he says.

‘Yes.’ And it’s true. For the first time in my life I know what it feels like to love and be loved honestly and openly in return.

‘You’re not going to go all complicated on me now that you’ve moved in?’ I want to know.

‘No.’ He slips his arm around my shoulders and pulls me towards him. ‘As long as you keep me supplied with plenty of chocolate and tea then everything should be just fine, Gorgeous.’

Chapter Ninety-Two

‘
W
hen are we going to start our diets then?’ I currently have a muffin top of a midriff flourishing over the top of my trousers. It’s not a good look.

‘I’m still eating for two,’ Chantal reminds me. ‘The only craving I’ve had is for more and more chocolate.’ She grins stupidly. ‘How fabulous is that?’

When I get pregnant it would be just my luck to become suddenly repulsed by chocolate and crave nothing but coal dipped in olive oil or cold custard with Gorgonzola cheese on top. That’s a scary thought. Maybe my life plan should be to remain child-free.

‘I’m going to worry about regaining my figure long after this baby has dropped.’ Chantal massages her tummy affectionately. ‘In the meantime, bring on the calories!’ To prove a point she eats yet another praline with gusto.

Pregnant women are so smug. I wish I was having a baby too then I could eat like a pig too. A chocolate-eating pig.

‘I don’t need to diet as I haven’t actually put on an ounce,’ Autumn says piously.

I could begin to despise vegetarians too.

‘I’ve actually lost weight,’ Nadia points out.

‘Oh.’ My spirit sags as I lose my last possible ally. So, looks like it’s just me on the fat-free salad from now on. Oh well. One final blast of chocolate before the pain starts won’t hurt, will it? No. Of course not. It’s actually bad for you to deny the body the things that it most desires. It’s scientifically proven. I’m sure I read that somewhere. And my body frequently desires chocolate. Clive’s chocolate-chip muffins are currently getting the Lucy Lombard treatment.

‘What would you rather give up?’ I ask no one in particular. ‘Food or chocolate?’

‘Food,’ Nadia answers without giving it much thought. ‘The day I can have an orgasm while eating lettuce, I might change my mind.’

I am
so
with that girl. ‘Then would you rather give up sex or chocolate?’

‘I’ve gone off sex,’ Chantal admits, and we all recoil slightly. ‘Yes, very funny,’ she says at our reaction. ‘Ted, on the other hand, is mad for it. There’s irony in that, right?’ She strokes her belly lovingly. ‘I don’t know what to do with this. Where am I supposed to put it? Yet Ted seems to find the figure of a pregnant woman incredibly sexy.’

‘Some men do,’ Nadia informs us as the only woman among us who has been there and done that. ‘Toby loved it when I was pregnant.’ And then her eyes momentarily fill with tears.

‘I guess the problems start when you have the figure of a pregnant woman, but you’re not.’ I stroke my own belly and the moment of sadness is broken by our laughter, once again. ‘Very few people find that attractive.’ Although I’m
sure there are plenty of websites dedicated to those that do.

‘I’m just starting to get into sex,’ Autumn confesses, a beetroot blush colouring her cheeks. ‘I can’t believe that it’s taken me so long. Addison is a fabulous lover.’

‘That’s what’s commonly known as “too much information”, my friend,’ I tell her. Addison is having a great influence on Autumn – she’s even turned up wearing Lycra today instead of head-to-toe cheesecloth. Surely an improvement? Watch this space – very soon she’ll be tucking into bacon sandwiches, wearing leather shoes and voting Tory, you mark my words.

‘Sex or chocolate, Nadia?’

‘Sex,’ Nadia says through lips pursed in deep thought – obviously a trickier one. ‘Chocolate. Sex. Chocolate. Definitely sex. No. Chocolate.’ She nods her head decisively while munching on some chocolate-coated peanut brittle which Clive is road-testing on us. ‘I’ll stick with chocolate at the moment, though I’d love to have the choice.’

‘Maybe if Jacob comes round to lift heavy weights for you as he’s promised, then you might not have to wait too long,’ I tease. Looking pointedly at Chantal, I add, ‘I’ve heard he’s good.’

‘He’s
great
,’ Chantal says, unabashed. ‘And I’m the only one here who knows that.’

‘You’re the only one who could afford him,’ I remind her.

‘Seriously,’ she says, ‘there are worse guys around, Nadia. If Jacob wants to come and play power tools at your house then I wouldn’t be in a hurry to say no.’

‘He’s a nice person,’ Nadia agrees, ‘but it’s way too soon for me to be thinking along those lines. It’s going to be a long time before I can even look at another man.’

‘Stick to chocolate,’ I mumble through a mouthful of the stuff. ‘You know it makes sense.’

‘What would you give up, Lucy?’ Nadia asks me in an effort to sway the conversation away from her. ‘Crush or chocolate?’

‘Chocolate,’ I say firmly as if there’s no contest.

‘Now we know that this is true love!’ she replies and Autumn and Chantal laugh.

‘Absolutely.’ I couldn’t have put it better myself. There are some things in life that you might not want to live without – take chocolate, for example – but you know that when push comes to shove, you could. Other things are as necessary to life as breath. I smile to myself. Mr Aiden Holby counts among the necessary. Though I’d prefer it if I could still have chocolate too.

The café is quiet today and some mellow jazz wafts out of the speakers, soothing our souls. When there’s a lull in customers, Clive whips off his apron and comes over to join us, settling into the sofa next to Nadia.

‘How are my best girls today?’

‘Good,’ we tell him collectively.

‘How are things with you guys?’ I ask him.

‘Not bad,’ he says tentatively. ‘We’re holding hands again. Playing nicely. Talking things through.’

‘I’m glad.’ Looks like Clive won’t be getting free haircuts and Darren will miss out on some great chocolate. Such is life.

‘We have something we both want to ask you.’ On cue, Tristan comes out of the back and he’s bearing a bottle of chocolate vodka and some shot glasses.

‘Oh, yes,’ Nadia says enthusiastically as she spies them.

‘Isn’t this a bit early for vodka? I don’t think the sun is over the yardarm yet,’ I tell the boys.

‘There’s no sun because it’s February,’ Clive points out, ‘and I have no idea what a yardarm is.’

‘We hope that we’re going to be drinking a toast,’ Tristan chips in.

I’m intrigued. ‘That’s vodka all round then,’ I say.

Chantal holds up a hand. ‘Not for me. Pregnant woman pouring cold water on drinking party.’

‘I’ll get you some chocolate milk instead,’ Tristan says, and heads back to the counter to pour her a glass.

‘And some more of that chocolate-covered peanut brittle,’ Nadia calls after him.

When he returns, Clive says, ‘We’re thinking of going to France.’ He looks tenderly at Tristan. ‘We haven’t had a proper holiday since we set up this place. Although it’s fun to run, we’re both exhausted and now we feel that we need some time for us.’

‘Splendid idea,’ I say. ‘I’ll drink to that.’ I hold up one of the shot glasses expectantly.

Clive, obligingly, fills it. I knock it back. Then he does the same for the others, before topping up my glass again. He and Tristan exchange an uneasy glance. ‘The thing is, Lucy,’ he says. ‘You know how much we adore you . . .’

‘Of course.’ I grin stupidly. The drink is starting to talk already.

‘We’re hoping to go away for a month, maybe longer.’

I shrug happily. ‘Sounds fabulous.’

He gives me more vodka. ‘And we were hoping that you’d look after Chocolate Heaven for us while we’re away.’

‘Me?’

‘We know how much you love it here and we thought you’d like the challenge.’

It would be a challenge. ‘I don’t know anything about chocolate,’ I remind them. ‘Except how to eat it in great quantities.’

‘We’ll give you a crash course before we go,’ Clive promises.

A crash course. ‘Using the word “crash” in relation to me is not a good thing,’ I warn them.