Instantly, they grinned at each other.
‘Jacob,’ she said. ‘This is a nice surprise.’
He stopped, hands on hips, breathing heavily. When he kissed her cheek his skin was dry with the cold. His eyes were a little bleary and he was unshaven. Stubble grazed her skin. Even with a tracksuit and a beanie hat on, he still looked attractive.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I needed some fresh air.’ His voice was raspy, though his breath was more even now. ‘I had a heavy session at an event last night.’
‘Hence the bloodshot eyes and the Bonnie Tyler impersonation.’
Jacob nodded. ‘I couldn’t speak at all an hour ago. Vodka is evil. Especially when drunk in an enormous quantity.’
Chantal laughed at him. ‘Not the party animal you once were?’
‘No. That man is long gone. I’m getting way too old for this,’ he conceded. ‘I thought a run would either kill or cure me.’
‘Is this a regular haunt?’
‘Quite often,’ he said. ‘But it’s well away from your patch.’
‘I’m home alone today,’ Chantal said. ‘It’s Ted and Stacey’s turn to play happy families.’
‘How’s that working out?’
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘Catch me on a good day and I’d say that we’re making a great job of it.’
‘But this isn’t a good day?’
‘Not especially.’ She shook her head. Today she was struggling to see a way forward. ‘I had to get out of the house. A change is as good as a rest – so they say. We were just headed to the Diana Memorial Playground. I’m going to show Lana where I’m going to bring her to do fun stuff when she’s big enough.’
Jacob peered into the buggy. ‘How’s my favourite girl?’
‘She’s good. Getting bigger by the minute.’
‘I’m just about done with my run,’ Jacob said. ‘I think my lungs might burst if I push it any further. Mind if I come with you?’
‘There’s a nice café there,’ Chantal said. ‘I’ll treat you to a coffee and something with lots of chocolate and calories.’
He grinned at her and her stomach did a funny little flip. ‘Sounds good to me.’
‘You can go on buggy-pushing duty,’ Chantal said and she moved aside to let Jacob push the pram.
She linked her arm through his as they walked, always so comfortable in his presence.
They passed the clock tower and the Elfin Oak, an ancient trunk elaborately carved with figures of elves and fairies, and reached the playground. In the height of summer there was always a lengthy queue to go inside and she always wondered how parents had the patience to do so. Now she knew that she’d stand in line for hours to give Lana a taste of this magical place.
Today there were only a few hardy souls in evidence. Small children in big coats and wellington boots clambered over the massive pirate ship which formed the centrepiece to the play area. There was a fort, too, and an area of wigwams, all inspired by the story of Peter Pan.
‘This is a great place,’ Jacob said. ‘Much better than we had when we were kids. When I’m a dad, you won’t be able to keep me out of here.’
‘I can’t wait to bring Lana to play here either.’
‘Can I get her out of the buggy? She needs a cuddle with her favourite uncle.’
‘You do that while I get us a hot drink. What do you want?’
She took his order and went over to the café. Jacob found them seats outside, sheltered from the breeze.
When she came back, he was jiggling a very contented Lana on his knee. Her daughter was beaming widely and gurgling as Jacob pulled funny faces for her.
‘You’re great with kids.’ She put down the cardboard cartons of coffee.
‘I can’t wait to have my own.’ Then he glanced up at Chantal. He fixed her with his eyes. ‘You know, there are times when I wish she was mine.’
Chantal felt herself flush.
‘I never thought that I’d want to find a wife and settle down, but this little one is making me feel very broody,’ he admitted, laughing at himself. ‘She’s great.’
‘It is life-changing.’
‘Do you think you’ll have more?’
‘I’d love another child, but I’m not sure that it will be with Ted.’
Jacob raised an eyebrow at that.
‘I’ve tried really hard,’ she said. ‘But I’m beginning to think whatever we had has long gone. We get on much better as friends than we do as husband and wife.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘We’ve got Lana to consider. Perhaps it’s just a rough patch. Having children isn’t easy.’ She looked at Lana lovingly. ‘I’m sure we’ll manage to work something out.’
Jacob frowned. ‘It will be hard to raise a child on your own. Look at Nadia. I know how she struggles.’
They exchanged a glance at the mention of her name and Chantal wondered how it was going with Nadia and Jacob. She’d said very little recently.
‘Ted would be mad to let you go. You’re a great woman, Chantal. Beautiful and feisty and . . . well . . . I’ve said too much.’
She laughed. ‘Really? I hoped you were just getting warmed up.’
Oh, it was far too easy to flirt with Jacob. They’d always been the same with each other. They were like old friends, comfortable in each other’s company, all underpinned by more than a hint of attraction. Suddenly, it seemed so very hard to think of him in a relationship with Nadia. She felt as if she was losing Ted to Stacey and now she faced losing Jacob to Nadia. How would she cope when she was the one who was all alone?
Chapter Sixty-Four
Miles had stayed overnight. Autumn hadn’t wanted him to leave and they slept snuggled together as if they’d been sharing a bed for years. Florence had been staying with her mother who, thankfully, was also charged with today’s nursery run.
Which meant that Miles had been able to stay for breakfast, too. They were shy, but held hands over the table and lingered for as long as they could, chatting and looking dreamily at each other. It had been hard for her to leave to come to work.
They’d kissed warmly as they parted and had arranged to meet later in the park. Miles would be collecting Florence this afternoon and she would be looking after Lewis until Nadia came home from the shop.
Now it was mid-morning and Autumn had just arrived at the Stolford Centre. She had no classes arranged for today, but she needed to see Addison sooner rather than later.
She swung through the main door, kicking the slushy snow from her boots on the mat. Autumn walked along the corridor to his office, spirits low. She hoped that he would understand. It was no reflection on him, but she realised now that they simply weren’t suited. As people they were too different. After the first flush of love, there was very little underpinning their relationship and it was better that they’d found out now rather than a few years down the line when they might have had children together.
Addison was sitting over some paperwork at his desk, the winter sunshine throwing him into silhouette. Next to him, so close that she couldn’t see the daylight between them, stood Monica Desmond.
‘Hi.’ Addison glanced up at her. Monica took a subtle but noticeable step away from him. ‘Didn’t expect you today.’
Autumn stood there, heart hammering in her chest. She looked at him and suddenly felt as if she didn’t really know this man at all. And he didn’t know her. She’d talked more, shared more secrets with Miles in the short time that she’d known him than she ever had with Addison. It would have been a truly terrible mistake to have married him.
‘I need to have a word with you,’ she said. ‘It can’t really wait.’
Monica gathered up her papers. ‘We can catch up later.’
‘Fine.’
The look that passed between them, if only for the merest second, made Autumn think that she wasn’t the only one who was having doubts. It was too soft, too raw. Was there something going on between A
ddison and Monica? If there was, then it was really too late for her to worry about it.
When Monica left, Autumn sat in the chair opposite him.
‘Did you have lunch with your parents yesterday?’ he asked.
‘I did.’
‘Were you able to get any money from them?’
She thought about the hundred grand sitting in her bank account. If she gave it to the centre, then that would tie her and Addison together for the foreseeable future and she didn’t really want that. Suddenly, she wanted a clean break from him, from this place. Part of her wondered if they’d only stayed together for so long because he thought that she could bring some money to the table. It was sad, but she also thought it might be the truth.
‘No,’ she lied. ‘Their investments are all tied up at the moment.’
‘Ah.’ He looked disappointed but not entirely surprised. ‘It’s probably just as well.’ Addison stood up and came round to perch on the desk next to her. ‘This is difficult, Autumn.’
Addison took off his glasses, deliberately, slowly, acting regret to the gallery. ‘Monica and I have been talking. We feel that the creative classes have to come to an end. We have to make savings.’
‘And they’re the easy target.’
‘We feel that the money needs to be channelled elsewhere.’
‘I see.’ She wondered whether Addison would have taken her parents’ money and still have got rid of her.
‘I know you’ll be disappointed.’
‘Yes.’ She’d put a lot into this place, sat for hours talking to the troubled kids, turning fingers that were as clumsy as sausages into something remotely skilful, giving them a sense of pride in themselves. It wasn’t a lot, but she liked to think that she’d helped to give some of them a little respite from the tragic worlds that they normally lived in. She’d seen this coming – admittedly, not quite so quickly and not quite in this way. She couldn’t deny that it hurt. It seemed that Addison wasn’t keen to fight her corner for her. A telling sign of what she really meant to him.
‘I’ve put your personal belongings together.’ He nodded towards a small cardboard box on top of his filing cabinet. ‘I collected them for you.’
‘There’s nothing in there that I want.’
‘You’ve realised, I suppose, that it’s not working for us either.’
‘Yes. So it seems.’ Yet the relationship had once been so full of promise.
‘We’re too different. We don’t want the same thing.’
Autumn wasn’t sure what it was that Addison wanted but, obviously, it no longer included her.
‘Your brother, he was always at the top of your list. It was never me.’ He stood up then and paced the room. ‘I want to be straight with you, Autumn. Monica and I have grown close. Very close.’
Autumn managed to keep her face impassive. She had guessed as much a few moments earlier and wondered why she hadn’t realised before.
‘I think we’re more suited to each other,’ he continued solemnly.
‘I see.’
‘I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else. I wanted to be upfront with you.’
‘Well. Thanks for that.’
‘You’re a lovely woman,’ Addison said, though his tone sounded patronising. ‘I’m sure, in time, that you’ll meet someone else.’
‘You’re right.’ She smiled at her ex-boyfriend kindly. Addison had been a mistake, an error of judgement. She could see that now. He wasn’t the one for her at all. Then Autumn thought about Miles. She thought about his kind eyes, his lovely sensual mouth, his mad hair. His solid, kind, caring presence. She thought about being in his arms, being in his life. She was free to love him now and that, suddenly, seemed quite appealing. ‘In fact,’ she told Addison, ‘I already have.’
And she left Addison gaping at her as she headed out of the door and to Chocolate Heaven to tell the girls her news.
Chapter Sixty-Five
We, the good ladies of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club, are masters of the art of subterfuge. A room at the Soho Strand Hotel has been booked in Tarak’s name and, at the allotted time, we convene in the lobby to put into action our dastardly plan. Well, my dastardly plan, if I’m honest. The girls still have very scant details and probably just as well.
The rather salubrious hotel is looking particularly lovely in its festive garb. A huge Christmas tree dressed in red and gold bows dominates the entrance. The reception desk is festooned with garlands in the same theme and the area is busy with guests here, it would seem, for seasonal celebrations. It’s a lovely choice – even though it is Nadia’s sleazebag brother-in-law’s favoured shag palace and we are here for dark reasons.
‘You didn’t tell Stacey, did you?’ Chantal asks anxiously.
‘No. I’m not sure why, though. I thought everything was OK between you two.’
‘It is.’
‘Don’t you trust her?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She gnaws on her fingernail. ‘I don’t know. Maybe not.’
‘There seems to be a bit of tension creeping into your relationship.’
‘We’re fine. Everything’s fine.’ Said with the air of a woman who believes that everything is definitely not fine. ‘I just don’t want Ted to know about this.’
‘And you think she’ll tell him?’
‘Yes. No. Maybe.’
I’m glad we cleared that up.
‘I’m not sure how we’ll keep this from her, now that she’s part of our gang,’ I confess. ‘She might be hurt that she wasn’t invited.’ Still, at the moment, that’s the least of my problems.
‘It’s too late now,’ Chantal says. ‘She’s babysitting Lana. I can hardly ring her up and tell her to get her ass down here.’
Nadia, too, is biting her nails. I’m going to have to book them all in for recuperative manicures at this rate. With Chantal placated – sort of – I turn my attention to soothing Nadia.
‘It will be fine,’ I assure her. ‘Some of my best work has been in hotels. You know that. Don’t be nervous.’
‘I’m beyond nervous, Lucy.’ She does look anxious. ‘I’m terrified. What if he doesn’t turn up?’
‘He will.’
‘Even worse, what if he does turn up and my sister finds out that he’s meeting me? My renewed relationship with her is still in its early stages. If this gets out, it could kill it stone dead.’
‘Then we’ll have to make damn sure that it doesn’t.’
‘We don’t even know what the plan is yet,’ Autumn notes.
She has a fair point. ‘Let’s get the room key and then I’ll fill you in. We might need a drink. Or two.’
‘What’s in there?’ Chantal points at the little wheelie case I’ve brought along.
‘All in good time,’ I tell her.
Chantal shakes her head. ‘Why did we let you organise this, Lucy?’
‘Because I am a past master,’ I remind her a touch haughtily. ‘I got your jewellery back for you from the gentleman thief, didn’t I?’ Something else Ted still doesn’t know about.
‘Yes,’ she admits. ‘That was nice work.’
It’s good to blow your own trumpet sometimes.
‘Does this plan involving drugging someone with spiked chocolates, as you did last time we let you sort something like this out?’
‘No,’ I say. ‘It is more cunning than that.’
‘Time’s marching on.’ Autumn glances at her watch. ‘Isn’t Tarak due soon?’
I note the lateness of the hour. ‘Yes. Better get a move on. I’ll check us in. You lot loiter here, while I do the business.’
So I go to the desk and complete the formalities.
‘Can we take a credit card, please?’
‘I’ll give you mine, but Mr Patel will be paying the bill when he arrives,’ I inform her. ‘He’s one of your regular guests.’
In return, I get the swipe card to the room I’ve reserved in Tarak’s name.
We head to the lift. When it comes we squeeze in, a
ll silent. Christmas carols fill the space.
‘Glad tidings of great joy we bring,’ a tinny voice trills from the speaker, ‘to you and all mankind.’
Hmm. We’re definitely not bringing glad tidings of great joy and one particular member of mankind is going to be distinctly unhappy at the end of the day.
We tiptoe along the plushly carpeted corridor, aware of every noise and I let us into the room at the end.
Chantal throws the light switch and illuminates a chic room that’s decorated in the routinely anonymous style in varying shades of beige employed by most hotels. It’s fine, though. Suits our purposes perfectly.
The television is already on and the screen displays the legend ‘The Soho Strand Hotel welcomes Mr Tarak Patel’.
But, unfortunately for Mr Tarak Patel, he will get more of a welcome than he imagined.
‘Right. Chantal, you need to break out the mini-bar.’
‘Will do.’
‘I’m going to get Tarak to pay for all of this, so tuck in.’
‘I have no idea how you’re going to manage that,’ Nadia says. ‘He’s as tight as two coats of paint.’
‘You’ll see,’ I tell her mysteriously.
‘I have emergency supplies in here.’ I lift the wheelie case onto the bed and flip it open. Then I lift out the box of chocolates I’ve brought from Chocolate Heaven and hand them around. I smile as each of the girls zooms in on their own favourites. The tension in the room lessens considerably.
‘Champagne, I think.’ Chantal brandishes a bottle from the bar and then pours out a glass for us all.
‘To the Chocolate Lovers’ Club,’ I propose. ‘Long may we reign.’
‘To the Chocolate Lovers’ Club,’ the girls echo and we toast each other.
Nadia swigs her fizz and says, ‘Come on, Lucy, spill the beans. There isn’t much time.’
I hastily take another fortifying sip and put my glass down.
Out of the wheelie case, I produce a carrier bag. ‘Ta-dah!’
Chantal frowns. ‘You’ve been to a sex shop?’
‘A nice one,’ I counter. ‘They don’t have any itchy lace tat in Sirens. It’s all proper silk and stuff. A lot of celebs shop there.’