Read The Chocolate Lovers’ Wedding Online
Authors: Carole Matthews
Lovely Jen from Chocolate Ecstasy Tours is waiting for us outside a chocolate shop. She’s wearing her tiara and Team Chantal T-shirt as instructed and has dropped everything to put on this special event for our friend.
‘A chocolate tour?’ Chantal grins at me as she climbs into her pimped-up wheelchair. ‘What a treat. This has to be your best ever cunning plan, Lucy.’
‘Thanks. I think so, too.’ I beam widely. ‘I told you not to worry.’
So we set off on our tour, me pushing Chantal’s wheelchair. People smile and wave as we pass them and they step aside on the crowded pavements to make way for us.
Jen takes us on a tour of the chocolate shops around Mayfair and Soho, stopping at each one to sample their wares. We try some champagne truffles with a hint of strawberry, crisp hazelnut and ginger crunches, velvety soft pralines and decadent molten caramels. All divine. This outing might be a bit of fun to cheer up our friend, but I’m also picking up some great tips for Chocolate Heaven along the way.
We laugh and joke as we go and Jen tells us some of the history of the area when she can get a word in edgeways. Halfway round we stop for a coffee break so that Chantal can catch her breath.
‘You’re not getting too tired?’ I ask.
‘No.’ She touches my arm. ‘Thanks, Lucy. This is great fun and just the tonic I needed. I was going mad cooped up in the house. I haven’t laughed so much in ages.’
‘Just let me know when you’ve had enough. We can take you straight back home. I don’t want you to overdo it and feel poorly.’
‘Strangely, this is helping me to forget my pain. Only a cocktail or two would help more.’
‘Are you allowed alcohol?’
‘The doctor didn’t say that I
couldn’t
have any.’ She looks all wide-eyed and innocent. ‘One or two wouldn’t hurt, surely?’
I look to the girls. ‘Next stop cocktails! What do you say?’
‘We’re in,’ Autumn and Nadia agree.
‘There are two more chocolate shops on my route and there’s a nice hotel just around the corner from the last one,’ Jen says. ‘I’m happy to stop there afterwards if you are.’
‘It’s a plan.’
So we set off again and this time Autumn takes over pushing Chantal’s wheelchair. We visit the last two shops, tasting raspberry liqueur truffles, bite-sized morsels of pecan brownies and a dark chocolate Florentine.
When we’ve finished Jen asks, ‘Have you had enough chocolate?’
‘You can never have enough chocolate,’ I remind her. ‘But I’m sure we’ve had enough for now. It’s been great. What better way to round it off than with some cocktails?’
So we head straight to the hotel, parking Chantal’s wheelchair in the foyer, and are shown to a table in the airy lounge. Less than ten minutes later we have our first cocktail in front of us.
I hold my glass aloft. ‘To the patient!’
‘To the patient!’ they echo.
‘Ah, this has been fabulous,’ Chantal says. ‘We must do it again when I can
walk
round.’
We make Jen an honorary member of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club in respect of her astounding chocolate knowledge and capacity for endless consumption of our favourite foodstuff, then we have another cocktail to celebrate.
We’re getting even more giggly.
‘This feels like it’s turning into a proper hen party. We certainly look like the hen party from hell,’ Chantal says, pulling out her T-shirt for inspection. ‘It won’t be long before yours, Lucy.’
‘I can’t wait,’ I say. ‘I haven’t decided what to do yet.’
‘You’d better get a move on,’ Nadia says. ‘It’s not long.’
‘Everything’s in place now,’ I tell them. ‘I think. Jacob’s sorted the catering.’
‘I did have a little hand in that,’ Chantal confesses. ‘I think you’ll love it.’
‘It’s going to be wonderful. I had a phone call this morning to say that my dress has arrived at the shop. The groom is still in love with me.’ Never a given with my history. ‘All I need now is perfect weather.’
Chantal clutches my hand. ‘You’re doing the right thing,’ she says. ‘I couldn’t be happier for you. As soon as I’m well again, I’m going to whisk Jacob down the aisle. We talked about it again last night. He’s as keen as I am.’ She sighs. ‘All this has made me realise that life is a very precarious blessing. I’m going to waste no more time. I wish I could do it now, this minute, before I start chemo. That’s going to set me back six months, at least. Plus I’m likely to lose all my hair.’ She grimaces at that. ‘Then I might have to have radiotherapy as well. By the time I’ve recovered, a year could have gone by.’ Her voice catches in her throat. ‘There’s always the possibility that I might not recover at all.’
‘No there isn’t,’ I say. ‘Of course you’ll get through this. Look at that T-shirt. Believe.’ I point to the kung-fu chicken emblazoned on her chest. ‘You are going to kick cancer’s arse.’
‘I know. Sometimes, I worry that I won’t be here to see Lana grow up. That Jacob and I won’t make it to our seventies together.’
‘You will.’
‘It is playing on my mind. I can’t help it. The divorce is nearly finalised. It’s only a matter of days before it’s done.’ She rubs her arm. ‘I know it’s irrational, but it feels as if being married to Jacob would make the future feel all the more believable.’
I stop with my cocktail halfway to my mouth. ‘Have my wedding,’ I say.
Chantal laughs.
‘No, I mean it.’ Maybe it’s the drink talking, but it suddenly seems exactly the right thing to do. ‘There’s a wedding organised and ready to roll. Your need is greater than mine.’
‘Lucy, you are so lovely, but I can’t do that. It’s your big day. And you’ve waited long enough.’
‘I’m serious. Deadly so.’ I hold up a hand. ‘Bad choice of words. There’s going to be
no one
dying in this club.
No one
.’ I can see Chantal wavering. ‘You picked out the dress and have paid for it. You’ve just said that you helped Jacob to source the catering. You’ll
love
the venue. It could almost be your day already.’
Chantal bites her lip and I can sense her growing excitement at the idea. She needs this. I know.
Tears spring to my eyes. ‘I couldn’t bear for anything to go wrong and you not be married to Jacob.’
‘I want it with all of my heart.’
‘Then nothing’s stopping you.’
‘We could just slope off to the register office and have a quiet dinner somewhere. That would be the thing to do.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘You’re not sloping off anywhere. You’re going to have a lovely wedding and there’s one already arranged. It’s the obvious solution.’
Chantal’s eyes are bright with tears, too. ‘Do you really mean it, Lucy?’
‘Of course. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.’
‘Could we actually do it?’
‘I’ll phone the register office and check straight away, but if they’re already booked for the venue and date, then it can’t be that hard. Can it? I’m sure it would simply be a matter of you going to them and filling in your paperwork.’
‘When would
you
get married?’
‘Don’t even think about that. We can arrange it all again as soon as possible. It’s not a problem.’ I take a deep gulp and cross my fingers behind my back. ‘Truly.’
‘You’re
absolutely
sure?’ Chantal still looks dazed.
‘Yes. It’s my gift to you.’
‘I guess that’s sorted then.’ Chantal giggles into her hands. ‘I’m getting married.’
I hug my friend tightly. ‘I have to be your
chief
bridesmaid, though.’
‘It’s a deal.’
‘Tell the others,’ I say excitedly.
‘Shall I?’ Chantal taps on her cocktail glass with the stirrer. ‘Ladies of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club, I have an announcement to make.’
Autumn, Nadia and Jen turn to look at her.
‘I’m going to be married!’ She looks at me, eyes shining brightly. ‘Lucy has very kindly said that I can step into her shoes and take over her wedding so that Jacob and I can tie the knot as soon as possible.’
‘Seriously?’ Nadia says.
I nod.
Autumn adds a ‘Woo hoo!’
‘We should drink to this,’ I say. ‘Ladies, charge your glasses. To Chantal and Jacob.’
We lift our glasses.
Then Chantal frowns. ‘What about Crush? You’re certain that he won’t mind?’
‘No, no, no,’ I say. ‘Not at all.’ And then I wonder how on earth I’m going to tell him that I’ve just given our wedding away.
I’m in the taxi on the way home before the realisation that I’ve just given away my wedding really hits me. Yikes. What
will
Crush say? I am supposed to be the new non-stupid version of me and look what I’ve gone and done. But, in all honesty, how could I deny my friend this chance?
By all accounts, her operation was a resounding success, but we all know what a terrible thing cancer is. It has a habit of biting people on the bum. How could I go ahead and get married knowing that Chantal could be waiting on an uncertain future? If anything went wrong, that would always be on my mind. If that’s what she wants, she should marry Jacob and she should marry him now.
I stumble into the living room.
‘Hello, party animal,’ he says wryly.
‘Too many cocktails.’ Slightly more slurry than I’d like.
‘Excellent day out.’
‘At least you didn’t fall in the canal.’
‘No.’ Good point, well made.
‘I take it Chantal isn’t in the same state as you?’ ‘No. Mush more shenshible.’
‘Did she enjoy your surprise?’
I nod too much. ‘Lovely time.’
He comes to give me a cuddle and then recoils as my alcohol
breath hits him. ‘Would you like me to make you some strong black coffee, Gorgeous?’
I cling to him tightly. ‘Yesh pleash.’
‘Relax the death grip, Lucy. Relax. Relax.’ Gingerly, he unwinds himself from my arms. ‘Some toast with that?’
As he heads towards the kitchen I blurt out, ‘I’ve done something terrible.’
That stops Crush in his tracks. I was going to leave this until tomorrow when I’d had a chance to think about what I was going to say and when, essentially, I’d be a bit less drunk than I am now.
He raises his eyebrows. ‘Does it involve Marcus?’
‘No. Not this time.’
He looks quite relieved by that. ‘Does it involve you getting naked with strange men?’
‘No. Absolutely not.’
‘Is candid photography of any kind involved?’
‘No. No. No.’ I shake my head vigorously. Then feel decidedly dizzy.
‘Have you swallowed expensive jewellery?’
‘No.’
Crush sighs. ‘But I do need to sit down for this?’
‘Yes. Maybe.’
My beloved sits on the sofa, head in hands, braced for the worst. ‘Go on then. Hit me with it.’
I take a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound. I’ve done it now. No going back. I can hardly ring Chantal tomorrow and tell her it was a big mistake, can I? No.
‘We can’t get married,’ I say sadly. ‘Not never. Just not now.’
‘Why?’ Crush says. ‘I thought we were getting on really well.’ He looks at me, eyes sorrowful. ‘This is to do with Marcus, right?’
I shake my head and it makes me a little bit dizzier. Must stop shaking head. ‘It’s not me. It’s you.’
Crush frowns.
‘Other way round,’ I correct. A conversation like this should
not
be attempted in a haze of alcohol. ‘It’s not you. It’s me.’
‘What’s made you change your mind?’
‘I haven’t,’ I reassure him. ‘There might just have been a tiny-weeny change of plan.’ I steel myself. ‘I might have told Chantal that she can have our wedding.’
His head snaps up at that. ‘You did what?’
‘I gave our wedding away,’ I confirm and then look at him anxiously. ‘She really, really wants to marry Jacob as soon as possible and I was worried that her cancer might get worse or come back or whatever and she might never make it. She’ll have to have chemo and all her hair might fall out. And you don’t want to be a bride when you’re bald. Although it’s perfectly acceptable for the groom to be bald.’
‘Is that it?’
I stand there trying to look suitably penitent. ‘Yes.’
‘It would have been nice if you’d called me to check first,’ he says.
‘I know.’ I hang my head in shame. What was I thinking? ‘I’m an idiot. It came out of my mouth before it went through my brain.’
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Crush laughs. ‘But it’s fine, Lucy. Of course it’s fine.’ He stands up and breathes out a sigh of relief. ‘That’s what I love about you most. You’re so selfless. You put everyone’s needs before your own. I know Chantal’s situation and it’s awful. If we can help then we should. If that means you want Chantal to have our wedding, then she must.’
I jump into his arms and hug him to bits. ‘But we can get married really, really soon?’
‘We’ll set another date just as soon as you like.’ He kisses me deeply.
‘We could skip the coffee and toast and go straight to bed,’ I suggest, fluttering my eyelashes at him in what I hope is a beguiling manner. ‘I’m very squiffy and someone who was less of a gentleman might take advantage of that.’
He spins me so that we’re heading towards the bedroom. ‘I’m no gentleman,’ he growls.
I stroke his hair. ‘But you are,’ I say earnestly. ‘You’re the kindest, most gentlemanly person I know. And that’s why I love you so very much.’
Hours and hours later, when we have loved and loved again, and I’m feeling all dreamy and slightly more sober, Crush gets up and makes us coffee and toast. And we sit in bed cuddled up together eating it and making plans for our next wedding d ay.
Chantal couldn’t believe how the last few weeks had flown. They’d gone by in a blur and that was probably a good thing. Organising the wedding had taken her mind off the hospital visits and the discomfort from her scar. The girls had been fantastic, nothing too much trouble for them and they’d laughed a lot as they pulled the last-minute bits and bobs together.
Now, the night before her wedding, she seemed to be in a little bubble of peace. Everything was organised and there was nothing much else that she could do other than relax and enjoy it. There was just one last hurdle. She was going to take off her dressing gown and look at herself properly for the first time.
Chantal stood in front of the mirror and took a deep breath. The moment of truth. She’d managed, so far, to avoid looking at herself fully. She’d caught glimpses of her scar – when she’d had the dressings removed and the drains taken out had been a terrible moment. While the nurse had tended to her, she’d kept her eyes tightly shut, refusing to look.
She had great tits. No doubt about it. They were full, curvy, with flawless milky white skin. They still looked good in a tight jumper and they didn’t sag when she took her bra off at night.