The Chocolate Lovers' Diet

  What would she have done without her friends? Lucy and Autumn had been fabulous – they stood along the row from her now. But Chantal had really come through for her, once again; she had been a complete brick. Chantal had chosen the flowers, Nadia’s outfit, and they were all going back to Nadia’s house after the service to eat food and drink wine that Chantal had organised. Her friend clutched her hand. Somehow it felt good to be close to Chantal now, Nadia thought, as if the life growing inside her was a kind of compensation for the life that had been so prematurely lost.

  Lewis stood next to her on the other side. It was his first outing in a man’s suit and her heart squeezed painfully. How would he cope without his father? Had he any concept that Toby would never be coming back? She’d told her son about the whole heaven scenario – even though she wasn’t sure if she believed in any of it herself. If there was a God, why had He made her husband with such a tragic and fatal flaw? She hadn’t told her son of the fall through the air of a wonderful husband who couldn’t live any longer with his terrible addiction. One day she would – when he was much, much older and could understand. She sincerely hoped that gambling wasn’t an hereditary condition.

  At the end of the service, Nadia was glad to be out in the fresh air again, leaving the cloying scent of the incense behind. Chantal looked fabulous in her smart black suit and was attracting the attention of one of Toby’s more rotund and red-nosed uncles. Nadia smiled to herself. Chantal was sure to be loving that.

  Now she was busy shaking the hands of a line of damp-eyed people whom she didn’t even know. Toby’s death had made all of the red-top national papers, run alongside articles about the increasing dangers of online gambling and the imminent introduction of Vegas-style Supercasinos into Britain. Nadia had turned down all the invitations to give interviews to the press. Her family must have read all about it, yet she hadn’t had so much as a phone call from them. In her case, it wasn’t true that blood was thicker than water. She’d been cut off from her family because of Toby, and even his untimely demise hadn’t brought any kind of sympathy or softening of their attitude.

  A mobile phone rang nearby and she saw Autumn reach into her handbag to answer it. A moment later, her friend’s hand touched her arm.

  ‘Nadia,’ she said, ‘I have to leave. I’ve just had a call from the hospital. Richard’s taken a turn for the worse. I have to go to him.’

  Nadia nodded.

  ‘It was a lovely service,’ Autumn said.

  ‘Thanks. I’ll catch up with you later.’ As she squeezed the hands of more strangers, Nadia watched her friend as she ran down the road, searching for a cab. Autumn had to go to Richard. She was needed elsewhere. And Nadia realised that there was only Lewis who needed her now. She pulled her son to her side and hugged him. This four-year-old boy was going to be her reason for living. From now on, she was going to have to face everything alone.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Richard’s lung had collapsed, the hospital staff told her. An array of expensive equipment was keeping him alive. More seemed to have been added every time she visited. It beeped, hissed, sighed and functioned where her brother’s body couldn’t. A tube drained fluid out of the side of his chest and into a container which bubbled as Richard laboured to breathe. The nurse fussed around, taking Rich’s blood pressure, changing the dressing around the canula in the back of his hand and smoothing down his sheets. Frowning, she took his temperature. He’d developed a fever and his brow was damp with sweat.

  ‘Comfortable?’ the nurse asked.

  ‘Never better,’ he said sarcastically, and Autumn wondered why her brother couldn’t be more gracious to those who were trying to help him.

  The nurse bristled and stomped away. When she’d gone, Richard turned to his sister. ‘This is a very bad development,’ he said softly, wheezing noises accompanying every word. His voice was dry with dehydration and Autumn wondered why the heating was always so high in here. It was absolutely sweltering. How much did hospitals contribute to global warming? It was just as well she hadn’t brought him a box of chocolates, otherwise they’d be a sticky puddle on the floor.

  ‘It’s just a setback,’ she reassured him. The collapse in his lung had been caused by his chest injuries, the doctors had told her, probably aided and abetted by his weakened immune system due to his drug abuse. In the end it always came back to that. ‘If you rest, I’m sure it will only delay you going home by a couple of weeks.’

  Richard reached out and gripped her wrist. ‘I don’t have a couple of weeks.’

  ‘There’s nowhere else you need to be,’ she told him. Autumn didn’t want to rub it in, but there was no job or girlfriend or family waiting for him to rush back to.

  ‘The men . . .’ Richard said, and faltered. With a dry tongue, he tried to moisten his cracked lips. ‘The men who came after you, who did this to me, they won’t wait that long.’

  She shrugged with a nonchalance she didn’t feel. ‘They’ll have to.’

  A wave of irritation crossed her brother’s face and his eyes flashed with frustration. ‘There’s no “have to” with people like that,’ he said. Despite how ill he was, there was a barb of menace in his tone that she didn’t care for. ‘I owe them, Autumn. And you won’t be safe until they’ve got what they want.’

  ‘Thanks for that,’ she said flatly. ‘That’s really what I needed to hear.’

  ‘You’ll have to do the drop for me.’

  ‘The drop?’ Autumn couldn’t suppress her laugh. ‘What drop? You’re talking as if you’re in a Hollywood movie.’

  ‘This isn’t funny,’ he said baldly. ‘My life could depend on it. Yours too.’

  That certainly stopped her laughter in its tracks. Autumn shook her head sadly. ‘Is this legal?’

  Richard’s answering laugh was hollow and it sparked a coughing fit. She waited while it abated, pouring him a glass of water and matching her breathing to her brother’s as if that would urge him along.

  When he stopped coughing, she handed him the water and he took a welcome sip. His darkly shadowed eyes met Autumn’s as he handed back the glass. ‘When has anything I’ve ever done been on the right side of the law, darling sister?’

  ‘Why involve me? Isn’t there one of your drugged-up cronies who’ll do it for you?’

  He sighed and his body sounded as if it was filled with air. ‘There’s no honour among thieves, these days. You have to help me, Autumn. There’s no one else I can trust.’

  She thought of the times throughout their lives when she’d fought Richard’s fights for him. Without fail, she’d been there watching his back. She didn’t want to be involved in this, he must know that. But how could she let him down now, when he needed her most of all?

  ‘I’ll do it,’ she said with a heavy heart.

  Her brother smiled faintly. ‘Good girl.’

  ‘But this is it, Richard. I swear. After this, you’re on your own.’

  ‘You need to call this number.’

  ‘They gave me a phone to pass on to you.’

  ‘You keep it,’ he instructed. ‘Use it to call them. If we show willing then things might not turn out so bad.’

  It was clear that her brother was still talking more from bravado than bare fact. She pulled a piece of paper from her tote bag and rummaged around until she found a pen. Richard reeled off the number which had clearly been committed to memory and she duly wrote it down.

  ‘Ring them as soon as you get out of here and they’ll tell you what to do.’

  ‘Who are these people?’ she asked.

  ‘They’re your worst nightmare. Don’t mess this up, Autumn. Everything they tell you to do, do it right or we’ll both suffer.’

  ‘You’re trying to tell me that I could end up in the bed next to you.’

  ‘I hope it won’t come to that.’

  She wondered what the hell Addison would say when she told him exactly what her brother had cooked up this time. Or maybe, for the sake of harmonious relations,
it would be better if she withheld this particular piece of information.

  ‘There’s a false bottom in the wardrobe in my room at home.’

  ‘You haven’t brought Mummy and Daddy into this too?’

  Richard shook his head. ‘They know nothing, Autumn.’ He shot her a warning look. ‘And they don’t need to either.’

  She said nothing.

  Her brother continued, ‘There’s a holdall hidden there. Don’t even look in it. Just take it as it is to wherever they tell you and whenever they tell you. Do all that. Walk away and everything will be just fine.’

  Autumn held her head in her hands. ‘I can’t believe I’m agreeing to do this.’

  ‘You’re my sister,’ Richard said. ‘We’re in this together. Don’t forget that.’

  How could she? Autumn suppressed the shiver of fear that she felt, despite the stifling heat. It was true, what they said about not being able to choose your own relatives.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chantal stayed with Nadia for the rest of the day, but by early evening most of Toby’s relatives had gone home and it was clear that her friend was exhausted. Like the church, the house also looked like a florist’s shop, with floral tributes filling every possible receptacle they’d been able to find. Chantal wasn’t sure why people would send them. Her friend needed money – didn’t they realise that? There was enough about their dire financial situation in the newspapers. Cold hard cash would have been a lot more useful than a few chrysanthemums that would be dead by the end of the week. She didn’t voice that opinion to her friend. Nadia, red-eyed and listless, was fussing with the tidying up and Chantal’s heart went out to her.

  Taking away the glasses that Nadia was clutching in her fingers, Chantal said, ‘Leave this. I’ll clear the worst of it away.’ She steered her friend to the nearest comfy chair. ‘You need to sit with your feet up and have some fine chocolate.’ From her handbag, Chantal produced a bar of Clive’s single Madagascar that she’d bought earlier in preparation for this moment.

  Nadia gave an appreciative sigh. ‘You’re a lifesaver.’ She snapped off a piece and then savoured it in her mouth. ‘Fabulous,’ was her assessment. Then she passed the bar back to Chantal, who did the same.

  ‘Thank goodness that chocolate isn’t on the list of banned foods during pregnancy,’ Chantal observed. ‘I’d never make it.’

  Lewis was playing with his Thomas & Friends train set on the floor and Nadia opened her arms, beckoning him to her. ‘Come and sit next to Mummy.’

  The boy went over and squeezed onto the chair next to her. His legs, permanently bruised from robust play, were soon slung across his mum’s. Nadia stroked the blue-black marks and felt the tears that were never far away prickle behind her eyes. ‘Who’s going to rough and tumble with you now?’

  ‘Aunty Chantal,’ Lewis said innocently.

  They both laughed at that.

  Taking his chance, Lewis asked, ‘Can I have some chocolate, please?’

  ‘This is chocolate just for grown-ups,’ Nadia said. ‘You wouldn’t like it.’ She gave Chantal a wry glance that said, Surely as a mother I’m entitled to employ the age-old lie every now and then? Her friend smiled at her.

  ‘You can have a chocolate biscuit and some milk before bed,’ Nadia countered. ‘But only if you promise to clean your teeth really, really properly.’

  ‘I will,’ Lewis vowed solemnly.

  ‘I’ll get it for him,’ Chantal offered. ‘Then I’ll finish up in the kitchen.’ She slipped out of the room.

  The wreckage wasn’t too bad, Chantal thought as she cleared away the last few glasses and plates. Nadia could keep herself busy in the morning tidying up the rest.

  The funeral today had gone as well as could be expected in the circumstances, even though she had been sure that some of Nadia’s relatives would have crawled out of the woodwork to be there to support her. But watching Nadia and Lewis coping stoically with their loss had left her feeling more alone than ever. Her own relationship was going far from smoothly. She and Ted were still on very shaky ground. They hadn’t spoken to each other since he’d stood her up for their date at the theatre. Not that she hadn’t tried to contact him, but all of her calls went unanswered. She stroked her growing bump. Life was what happened when you were busy making plans. What if anything happened to Ted? What if a drunk driver hit his car? What if one little artery decided to clog up? We all assume that we have our tomorrows to look forward to, but we never truly know what’s waiting just around the corner. Seeing Nadia cope with the premature loss of her own husband had put all of this into perspective for her. What if she was never able to tell Ted that she might well be carrying his baby? She could hardly bear to think about it and Chantal knew that she had to put things right with him before it was too late.

  Glancing at the clock, she noted that the night was pressing on and it was time that she made herself scarce. She collected a glass of milk and two chocolate digestives for Lewis and then went back into the living room. Both mother and son were dozing in the armchair, but Nadia roused as she went across to her. Speaking softly to her exhausted friend, Chantal said, ‘As soon as you’ve put Lewis to bed, you need to take a long, hot bath and get an early night.’

  ‘Don’t you worry,’ Nadia assured her with a yawn. ‘That’s exactly what I’m going to be doing.’

  Kissing her friend warmly, Chantal said, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Thanks for everything, Chantal.’ Nadia squeezed her hands. ‘I really appreciate it.’

  ‘You stay where you are,’ Chantal said. ‘I’ll see myself out.’ Closing the door behind her, she stepped out into the street and took a deep breath. It was time to go and see Ted.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Even though Chantal still had a key to the house, she somehow felt uncomfortable about letting herself into her own home. She’d been away from the place she’d formerly called home for quite some time now and she was starting to feel like a stranger here. Maybe even an unwelcome one.

  Their house was darkened and there was no sign that Ted was home yet. As a result she’d decided to wait outside until he came back from the office. It might not get them off on the right footing, if Ted came home to find her installed in the lounge with her feet up, watching television with a glass of his mineral water in her hand. So, Chantal had parked at the end of the street so that she’d have a good view of her front door and could see when Ted arrived home. It was getting late and, hopefully, he shouldn’t be long now. Rummaging through the glove box for her stash of chocolate, she settled down with a bar of Valrhona Grand Cru to pass the time. The rich milk chocolate with a hint of strawberries and cream melted on her tongue. Expensive chocolate was always helpful in difficult situations. A bit of Il Divo on the CD-player helped too. A slow and sultry Italian version of ‘Unbreak My Heart’ washed over her as she savoured each creamy square.

  Half an hour later, when her back was just starting to go numb and all her chocolate had gone, a cab pulled up outside the house and Ted jumped out. Chantal watched his fluid movements as he let himself into the house and then waited for a few minutes before she got out of her own car. Her stomach was churning as she stood at the front door. Junior was doing backflips too. Smoothing her hands over her small, tight bump, she wondered if her husband would notice instantly that she was pregnant – which would mean that they could avoid the speech that she’d so carefully rehearsed. Taking a deep breath, she rang the bell.

  Before she could dwell on it further, Ted flung open the door. He was clearly surprised to see her.

  ‘Hey,’ she said softly. ‘Got time for a visitor?’

  Ted glanced quickly at his watch, which made her hackles rise. ‘I’m going out,’ he told her. ‘This is a quick turnaround for me.’

  She hadn’t come all this way to see him only to be fobbed off now. ‘It won’t take a minute.’

  Her husband held the door open, while she squeezed past him. Then they went through into th
e kitchen and stood regarding each other awkwardly. The house looked exactly the same as when she’d last been here. But then, why shouldn’t it? There were no bachelor-esque piles of dishes to be seen. No heaps of crumpled clothes in need of an iron. Nothing in the domestic arena was Ted’s responsibility. They had a very reliable cleaner, Maya, who came in every day to see to that side of things. Her husband was perfectly capable of knocking together a quick and nutritious meal for himself – his pasta and pancetta was legendary. And, as she wasn’t required to perform any wifely duties in the bedroom, Chantal wondered whether he had actually missed her at all.

  ‘You haven’t returned any of my calls,’ she said, trying not to sound too accusatory.

  ‘I know.’ Ted spread his hands in a what-can-I-do? gesture. ‘Work has been manic.’ He frowned. ‘Was that what you wanted to talk about?’

  ‘No. No.’ She shook her head and then leaned heavily against their oak dresser.

  ‘Then shoot.’

  ‘Er . . . I, er . . .’ Suddenly, her nerve deserted her. Her mouth went dry. Her heart pounded unevenly. The carefully rehearsed announcement of her ‘condition’ went straight out of her head. ‘Lucy’s getting married.’

  Ted looked puzzled. ‘Lucy?’

  ‘Ted,’ she chided. ‘You know who I mean. My friend from The Chocolate Lovers’ Club.’