The Chocolate Lovers’ Wedding (10 page)

Miles and Florence stood on the pavement and waved her goodbye. Flo had given her a bag of Minstrels for the journey and she blew her a kiss. They were both heading straight to the park while Autumn was borrowing Miles’s car to drive up the motorway – hopefully – to her reunion with Willow. Although Miles and Flo hadn’t been long in her life, she already hated to be away from them for any length of time. But this was an important day for her.

Mary had already explained that she and Willow lived in the heart of the Cotswolds and that their home was a farmhouse that they’d converted into a bed and breakfast. It was hard to imagine her daughter living somewhere like that – she’d always imagined that she’d been in London somewhere or the suburbs rather than the country – but she was glad of the chance to see where she’d been brought up.

Traffic was heavy, yet just over an hour later she was turning off the M40 and leaving the built-up towns behind, heading out into the gently rolling hills of the Cotswolds. Ugly brick houses gave way to gorgeous mellow stone cottages; the tangle of busy roads dissolved to meandering lanes and acres of untrammelled farmland. It was a beautiful area and a glorious day. Autumn felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.

A short while later, instructed efficiently by the sat nav, Autumn pulled up at the edge of a small village, outside Manor House Farm. Finally, she was here. She breathed a sigh of relief. In the last few miles her palms had gone clammy on the steering wheel and she was as nervous as she could possibly be. Nothing had ever meant this much to her and she was desperately anxious for it to go right.

She took a moment to compose herself and absorb her surroundings. The farmhouse was double-fronted, Georgian, both grand and homely at the same time. The yellow stone building was surrounded by a low wall covered with sprawling purple aubrieta and white rock which was in bloom. A riot of spring flowers in a multitude of colours filled the mature garden – daffodils, tulips, irises, grape hyacinths and a dozen other plants that Autumn didn’t know the names of. A delicate pink rose draped itself around the front door. It looked idyllic and she was glad to think that Willow had grown up somewhere so lovely.

Getting out of the car, Autumn went to the door, feeling shivery inside. This was the moment she had never dared to dream would happen. She rang the bell and moments later, heard the snappy bark of a little dog and the sound of footsteps in the hall. A moment later, Mary opened the door, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

‘Do come in, Autumn,’ she said. ‘Nice to see you again. Have you had a good journey?’
‘Yes. Thank you. This is a lovely place.’
‘And you found us all right?’
‘I managed not to get lost once,’ she said.
It was a big hall with stone tiles and stripped pine doors. A large and quite imposing wooden staircase with a tartan carpet runner dominated one side. On the other was a table full of family photos, a phone, a rack of pamphlets about the attractions of the area for the guests and a book for comments. There was a lamp, too, switched on even though the day was bright, with a shade in a tartan pattern that differed from the carpet.
It was cosy and welcoming. If you arrived here for a few nights’ break, Autumn imagined that you’d be quite pleased.
The little dog – a Jack Russell – jumped up to be fussed, his claws scrabbling on the stone floor.
‘Don’t mind him,’ Mary said. ‘He’s normally restricted to the kitchen when guests are here. Get down, boy. Leave our visitor alone.’
‘It’s all right, really. I like dogs. I’d love to have one but I live in a flat with no garden.’
Mary lowered her voice. ‘Willow
is
actually here – which is a bonus.’ She shook her head as if perplexed by the ways of her daughter. ‘But I have to warn you that she’s very scratchy today.’
‘It’s understandable.’
‘She’s a teenager and is going through the usual hormonal angst. She’s been through a lot. I think she’s trying to find her place in the world and part of that is knowing her history.’ Mary seemed just as anxious as Autumn was. ‘I can’t blame her for that, but it makes me nervous, too. I’m sure you’ll take things slowly with her.’
‘Of course. I’ll go entirely at her pace. However, I have to say that I can’t wait to see her.’ Autumn put her hand on Mary’s arm. ‘I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to this. It must be hard.’
There were tears in the woman’s eyes again. ‘You have no idea.’ She managed a weak smile and put down her tea towel. ‘I’ll go up to get her. You go through and make yourself comfortable in the conservatory. We haven’t got any guests in until later this afternoon. When you’re settled, I’ll make myself scarce and put the kettle on while you two get to know each other.’
Butterflies whirled in Autumn’s stomach at the thought. Mary turned away from her and climbed the stairs, a little weariness evident in her step. The dog bounded after her.
Autumn walked through to the kitchen, which was large with an ancient-looking range cooker. Pots and pans filled every possible shelf. A blue jug filled with daffodils stood on the huge, scrubbed pine table. Beyond it, the conservatory ran along the length of the house. The end nearest to the kitchen was taken up with four small tables, already set for breakfast. The far end had two sofas facing each other, both of which looked well-loved. They were covered with hand-crocheted throws and an excess of mismatched cushions. Autumn went to sit in one of them.
A few minutes later, Mary came back looking agitated. ‘Here she is!’ Her voice was too cheery and forced. Behind her trailed Willow, exuding reluctance.
Autumn stood, mouth dry, eyes brimming with tears. After all this time, the child that she thought she might never see again was standing right in front of her. She wanted to run to her, gather Willow in her arms and hold her for the rest of her life, but that clearly wasn’t going to be an option. Instead, she simply stood up and made do with saying, ‘Hi.’
Willow nudged closer to Mary and mumbled back, ‘Hi.’
The girl was a small, angry mirror image of Autumn. If Willow was in any doubt about her parentage then this must surely confirm that Autumn was her birth mother. They were like twins, only separated by years. Willow was slender and dressed head to toe in black – Doc Marten boots, lacy tights, black denim shorts and a hoodie with a pentagram on the front. You certainly couldn’t mistake her leanings. Her face, naturally pale, looked more so due to the thick black eyeliner around her eyes and the slash of red lipstick on her mouth. The sprinkling of freckles probably matched Autumn’s dot-for-dot. Her hair – as bright in colour and clearly inclined to be as exuberantly corkscrew as Autumn’s – had been straightened and gelled within an inch of its life. Obviously, Goths didn’t do crazy curls.
‘Why don’t you sit down with Autumn?’ Mary said, shepherding the girl forward. ‘I’ll leave you alone for a bit while I make some tea. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.’
Willow shuffled forward and plonked herself on the sofa opposite Autumn, the scowl never leaving her face. The little dog came and sat next to her and Willow pulled him to her side and fussed his ears. Autumn took her seat again and wondered how to fill the awkward silence.
‘He’s a lovely dog,’ Autumn said, voice cracking. ‘What’s he called?’
‘Jack.’
‘Did you have him as a puppy?’
Willow nodded.
‘Why did you call him Jack?’
She looked at Autumn as if she was an idiot. ‘He’s a Jack Russell.’
‘Oh. Of course.’
Willow softened slightly. ‘He came from a rescue centre. That’s what he was called when we got him.’
‘It’s a nice name.’ Willow stared at her. This was going to be like pulling teeth, so she might as well just get to the crux of the matter. ‘I expect you have a lot of questions that you want to ask me.’
The girl shrugged.
‘Then I’d like to hear all about you, if you wouldn’t mind.’
Willow stuck the toggle of her hoodie in her mouth and sat back on the sofa.
‘Or I could tell you a bit about myself first?’
‘OK,’ Willow mumbled.
So Autumn took that as her cue to begin. ‘It’s hard to know where to start.’ Her voice sounded shaky. After a deep and steadying breath, she continued, ‘I’m twenty-nine years old and I live in a flat in north London. I’m not working at the moment, but I’ve been teaching at a drugs rehabilitation centre. I run classes on how to make stained glass.’ Autumn tried a laugh. ‘That must all sound very dull.’
The expression on Willow’s face didn’t contradict her.
‘I live by myself, but I have a really nice boyfriend called Miles and he has a little girl of his own. She’s called Florence and she’s three. Will that do for now?’
‘Dunno,’ Willow muttered.
‘I was so thrilled when Mary contacted me. I didn’t think you’d be able to look for me until you were eighteen and I always hoped that you would.’
‘I just wanted to know who I looked like. That’s all,’ Willow ventured with as much condescension as she could manage. ‘I’m not like Mum or Dad.’
Autumn held out her curls. ‘Same hair.’
Willow’s resulting smile was reluctant and barely noticeable, but Autumn was sure it was in there somewhere.
‘You’ve done a better job of straightening it than I’ve ever managed. I gave up years ago and decided to let it do its own thing. Thank goodness for GHDs.’
Willow examined her split ends as if they were the most interesting thing that had ever existed.
‘This is a lovely place to live,’ Autumn tried.
‘It’s boring,’ Willow said, emphatically.
‘Have you got a nice group of friends?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘They’re all farmers’ kids,’ she said as if they had a terrible, incurable disease. ‘Straw-chewers. I’ve got nothing in common with them.’
‘That must be hard. I remember when I was at boarding school with a lot of posh, high-maintenance girls. I was a bit Goth too – so I thought – before I veered towards bohemian. I’d just had enough of the eyeliner on my pillow, really. I was the only vegetarian in my class and I supported the Green Party. Everyone thought I was weird. The rest of the girls just wanted to talk about boys.’ She tried a laugh at the memory, but it had been painful at the time and it was more than ironic that she was the one out of all of them who had ended up pregnant. ‘It was terrible. I didn’t have lots of friends. None, really. I know what it feels like to be on the outside.’
Picking at her black nail varnish, Willow said, ‘I don’t care.’ When, patently, she cared very much.
Mary came back and fussed and fiddled with the cups while she poured. Then Autumn and Mary sat drinking tea and making excruciating small talk while Willow glowered at them both.
‘Why don’t you and Autumn go for a walk?’ Mary said brightly when conversation was clearly drying up. ‘Take Jack across the field.’
Willow shook her head.
‘Maybe I should go now,’ Autumn said. ‘It’s been a lot to take in.’
‘Half an hour wouldn’t hurt, would it, Willow? Autumn has come a long way.’
The girl shrugged as if she didn’t care one way or the other. Her face said that Autumn could have come from the moon as far as she was concerned; it still wouldn’t impress her. ‘OK.’ She stood up, hands jammed in her pockets.
‘Show Autumn the wood. It’s lovely up there. A bit early for the bluebells, but it will still be pleasant.’
Willow rolled her eyes.
Autumn hadn’t expected it to be easy. She’d just have to do this on Willow’s terms. She owed her that much.
‘That sounds nice,’ Autumn said, trying to look hopeful.
‘It’ll be boring,’ Willow countered. ‘Like everything around here is.’

Autumn and Willow fell into step next to each other. The little dog ran ahead. They strode away from the farmhouse, crossing the meticulously maintained back garden. Willow had her head down, shoulders hunched, hands buried in the depths of her hoodie. Autumn noticed that Mary was watching them through the window with a worried expression.

At the far corner of the garden was a half-hidden gate. Willow pushed aside some rampant climbing plant and opened it. Then they headed along the track beside the field. Green shoots of a future crop were pushing hopefully through the earth. Autumn dipped into her pocket and pulled out a bar of Galaxy.

‘Sustenance.’ She broke off a few squares and handed them to Willow. ‘I’m a total chocoholic,’ Autumn admitted. ‘I forgot to mention that.’

‘My boyfriend gave me this bar for courage. This isn’t easy for either of us.’
Willow said nothing.
‘What’s your favourite?’
‘I like Fairtrade chocolate. Dark is my fave.’
‘Me too,’ Autumn said. ‘Though I do like a good white chocolate, too.’
They walked a few more paces in silence.
‘There’s a great place in London that I’d like to take you one day, if you’d let me. It’s my favourite café. Chocolate Heaven.’
‘Sounds cool.’
She was sure that, despite their misgivings, Lucy would be back in control there soon. Her daughter would love it.
‘If you’re up for it, I’ll ask Mary if we can organise it.’
‘She just wants me to be happy,’ Willow said, flatly.
‘Me too.’ At the risk of sounding like she was interrogating her daughter, she asked, ‘What kind of music do you like?’
‘Retro Goth, some old-style punk,’ she said, a reluctant air of enthusiasm finally coming out. ‘The Cure, Evanescence, the Damned, Siouxsie and the Banshees. That sort of stuff.’
‘At least I’ve heard of those,’ Autumn said.
‘I play the guitar,’ Willow offered.
‘Any good?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Totally rubbish.’
Then they both laughed. At that moment, she knew that it was going to be all right and tears prickled behind her eyes once more.
‘I’m glad that you looked for me,’ Autumn said.
‘I sort of wanted to know where I came from,’ Willow mumbled.
‘Doesn’t everyone?’
‘I guess so.’
‘I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,’ Autumn said. ‘You only have to ask.’
‘Usual stuff,’ Willow said, sullenly. ‘What happened. Why you decided to get rid of me.’
‘OK.’ Now the tricky bit. They walked in silence for a few moments while Autumn tried to find the right words. She’d rehearsed this in her head so many times, imagined this situation, but now she finally had a chance to tell her side of the story, she didn’t want to make a mess of it.
Autumn took a deep breath before she said, ‘I fell pregnant with you when I was fourteen years old. About the same age as you are now. I didn’t know the boy very well, but I thought I loved him madly.’ Her throat was closing with emotion, but she forced herself to plough on. ‘My parents sent me away to have you – to Switzerland – and, very soon after you were born, they made me put you up for adoption. I was too young, too naive to understand what was really being asked of me. I was in a state of panic and had no idea what to do. I just did what my parents said without question. I couldn’t see another way. I know that it broke my heart, though. You were my baby and I adored you the moment I set eyes on you. There hasn’t been a day in all these years that I haven’t thought about you.’
Willow walked beside her, stony-faced, digesting the information. ‘So you wanted to keep me?’
‘Desperately.’ Autumn brushed away a tear. ‘But I had no way of looking after you. I felt, at the time, that I had to accept what my parents had planned. They thought it was for the best.’
Willow’s chin jutted defiantly. ‘Was it?’
‘No. Not for a minute. It was a terrible thing to do.’
Her daughter looked deep in thought for a moment, then said, ‘What happened to your mum and dad?’
‘They live in London. They’re both lawyers.’
‘Do they know that you’ve come to see me?’
‘No,’ Autumn admitted. ‘I’m not very close to my parents. They have busy lives.’
Willow processed this. ‘Where’s my dad now?’
That question was much harder to answer. ‘I don’t know. Sadly, he doesn’t even know about you. He was a gardener at my boarding school. He was a few years older than me, but only seventeen or eighteen – I’m not sure now. When the school found out about our relationship, he was sacked immediately. I was sent abroad and never saw him again.’ She wondered if he’d ever come back to the school looking for her, but thought probably not. He’d been just a kid, too.
They kept to the track alongside the hedgerow as they climbed up away from the house.
‘We go in here,’ Willow said. ‘This is what Mum thought would be “pleasant”.’
It sounded strange to hear her call someone else ‘Mum’. She wondered if Willow would ever come to know her well enough to be able to call her that, too. Currently, it seemed a long way off. Perhaps she’d given up that privilege for ever.
‘It looks lovely.’
‘It’s just stupid trees,’ she said with disdain.
It was a small copse with a narrow winding path – just enough room for them still to walk alongside each other. The sun shone through the trees casting dappled shadows at their feet. It was, as Mary had said, too early for the bluebells, but it wouldn’t be long before they were out. The dog snuffled happily through all the mounds of leaves, still abundant on the ground from last year’s fall.
Willow finished her chocolate and Autumn broke off some more to hand to her.
‘What was his name?’
‘His first name was Finn. I can’t even remember his surname.’
Willow’s face showed her disappointment. ‘Not much chance of me finding him then.’
‘I wouldn’t know where to start,’ Autumn acknowledged. ‘I knew so little about him. But he was kind, funny.’ And he had shown her some love and attention. That was the main reason she used to sneak out of the dormitory to meet him. Like Willow now, she felt so alone, so isolated. It was no wonder that she clung to the first crumb of affection she was offered. ‘Perhaps my old school would have some information on him. He was a casual worker and only there for a short time, so it’s a long shot.’
The girl brightened. ‘Worth trying, though.’
Autumn wondered how she’d feel to be reunited with Willow’s father after all this time, and how he’d feel to learn that he had a daughter. She hadn’t even had a chance to tell him that she was pregnant. It had been easy to turn a blind eye to missing a few periods, to put the fact that her tummy was becoming rounded down to the stodgy school meals. It was only when it became impossible to ignore that she’d sneaked into the local town and had bought a pregnancy test. She’d crept out of the dormitory before everyone else was up to use it in secret and had never known fear quite like it when the test showed positive. She didn’t have a friend she could share her terror with, no one to confide in. Autumn ended up having to tell the school matron, who immediately summoned her parents. They didn’t take her anywhere quiet where she could break it to them gently. They sat upright on hardback chairs in the headmaster’s study with the matron and the headmaster watching on while she blurted it out. She’d known exactly how they’d react and the thought of that conversation made her feel sick even now.
She was bundled out of school that day, an embarrassment to all, and never went back.
‘I thought you’d be old,’ Willow said, pulling Autumn back to the present. ‘Like Mum.’
Autumn smiled to herself. Mary was probably late forties at the most. ‘I was just your age when I had you.’
‘If I had a baby now, I’d keep it,’ Willow said, defiantly. ‘No way I’d give it away. No matter what anyone said. I’d run away with it.’
‘There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret what I did,’ she replied sadly. ‘I think, if you had a baby, that Mary would support you. She seems like a lovely mother.’
A pink flush came to Willow’s cheeks.
‘I wasn’t so lucky. My parents were very harsh and I hadn’t learned that I could stand up to them.’ She still wasn’t sure that she had, even now. ‘I didn’t know what else to do, so I did what they wanted. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I should have kept you, whatever it took.’ She wasn’t sure, but it looked as if Willow brushed a tear away from her eye with the sleeve of her hoodie. All Autumn wanted to do was hug her. ‘But I’d like to try to make up for the time we’ve lost. If you’ll let me.’
Willow stopped and stared at her. It seemed as if she was trying to look into her soul, to work out if she could allow this woman into her life. She was hurting and didn’t want to risk getting hurt even more. She looked so tiny, so vulnerable.
Autumn opened her arms and, with only a brief hesitation, Willow stepped into them. Then her daughter cried – her body tight with tension, pressed against Autumn.
‘It will be all right,’ Autumn soothed. ‘Everything will be all right now.’
And she hoped with all of her heart that she could keep her promise.