The Chocolatier's Secret (Magnolia Creek, Book 2) (7 page)

BOOK: The Chocolatier's Secret (Magnolia Creek, Book 2)
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Molly signed off with Ben wishing her luck when she went to the airport tomorrow. The plan sounded totally insane now, to be going to Heathrow when she wasn’t even going anywhere! All she was going to do was look at the airplanes taking off and coming in to land, to watch people calmly (she hoped) getting on and off flights. But she really hoped it was a starting point, one she could work from to get her to where she needed to go.

*

The next day, Molly drove her friends to Heathrow. Freya hauled suitcases from the boot and handed one to Lucy, the other to Katy.

‘I still can’t believe you’ve come here to watch planes,’ said Katy to Molly.

‘I know, sounds crazy, right?’

‘It’s not crazy.’ Lucy smacked Katy on the arm.

‘None of us have the same fear as Molly,’ Freya interjected, ‘so we don’t know what it’s like. Fears often sound irrational to those who don’t share them.
Katy.’

It didn’t matter how Molly’s fear had started. It was as real to her as monsters under the bed were to a kid.

‘Thanks for that,’ said Katy, who had an odd fear of buttons.

Molly grinned. She was glad of Freya’s comeback on her behalf. ‘You’re proper weird, you are, Katy.’ She pulled at a button on her shirt and put it closer to Katy, who winced.

‘Shut up or I’ll make you fly in my place, right now,’ Katy assured her.

They made their way into the airport, and Molly tried to take in her surroundings, let the noises of the airport settle around her. Ben’s top tips were to imagine being inside each of the aircraft she saw taking off and landing. She should be imagining the noises, sounds of parts of the aircraft adjusting.

Molly tried to remember everything Ben had told her as she waited for her friends to check-in. Once they’d done so, she would be able to spend a couple of hours here watching the planes. She felt like a five-year-old boy obsessed by aircraft! She couldn’t help wondering how much fun this would be if Ben were here in person, and she took out her iPhone to message him but then put it back in her handbag. She was here for a reason and she needed to focus.

She watched a flight crew walk by, immaculate, with their uniforms ironed perfectly, the women with their make-up precise, nothing out of place. They were orderly and it instilled a sense of calm, a sense of order for Molly, who hoped that when her time came and she boarded a plane, she would be no different to the millions of ordinary passengers who travelled safely by air each day.

Check-in complete, the girls went to the café and gathered at a table, coffees all round.

‘I hope next time we plan a holiday,’ Katy began, ‘Molly will be coming with us.’

‘Hear, hear,’ agreed the others.

Molly smiled. ‘You know, I think it might be possible, although with thoughts of Australia and America this year, I’m fast running out of money.’

‘Well, get saving,’ said Lucy. ‘We’re planning a shopping trip to New York next!’

Molly chatted and laughed with her friends until it was time for them to go through to departures, and then she spent the next couple of hours visiting the Heathrow Academy building on Newall Road where she could watch planes taking off and coming in to land. She’d entered the building with trepidation, but by the end of her time there she was actually quite bored. It really had been uneventful, which she guessed was the point of the exercise. She’d watched twin boys, about four or five years old at a guess, watching avidly out of the window, one of them snatching his mummy’s iPhone to take a ridiculous number of photos involving planes. It was refreshing to see an obsession born out of excitement and wonder rather than fear, and by the time Molly drove away from the airport, she knew she was on her way.

Chapter Nine

Gemma

 

 

Gemma went with Andrew and Louis to the hospital several times, not only for dialysis, but for further checks to ensure the live transplantation could go ahead. Andrew’s X-rays didn’t need to be repeated, but he had another ECG and more blood tests to make sure he was fit enough to go through with the operation. The removal of a healthy, functioning kidney was no small undertaking, and over the last few months since the initial decision, Andrew had seen more doctors than Gemma was able to keep track of. He’d seen the renal physician to assess his suitability, the transplant coordinator to ensure all the correct tests had been done and that Andrew was making an informed decision, the surgeon to again assess pre-op fitness and even a psychiatrist to ensure Andrew understood what was happening and that he was doing it for the right reasons.

More than once, Gemma had seen Andrew staring out of the window, or even simply staring at the wall. He looked as if he had the weight of the entire world resting on his shoulders, but whenever she asked him about it, he said he was fine. How could he be? His father was sick, his wife was desperate to conceive and give him a baby and his business was too new to be leaving in anyone else’s hands if the recovery time following an operation ended up being longer than expected.

Every time Gemma looked at Andrew and thought how detached he was from the minutiae of their everyday lives lately, it niggled her. He was distant, his mind elsewhere and it was hard work trying to get inside his head and help him through any of this. They’d always been so open and honest in their marriage and in these tough times, she was desperate for him to keep the channels of communication open. Keeping quiet about what was bothering you was where it all went wrong. She’d seen it enough times in kids at school. Children who seemed fine on the surface but deep down had been unhappy for so long it had a risk of affecting them long-term.

Louis was exhausted from his dialysis, Andrew and Gemma were strung out from all the toing and froing to the hospital, and Gemma couldn’t dampen down her apprehension. She sometimes wondered what portion of it came from thinking about Louis dying, how much came from stressing about Andrew going under the knife and how much came from everything else in their lives that would have to keep ticking over while the operations took place.

In their journey towards having a family, Gemma and Andrew had decided to let nature take its course, but Andrew, in some mad attempt to keep things normal or to consider her feelings at this stressful time, had gone ahead and made an appointment with a specialist today to discuss IVF. She’d questioned why it couldn’t wait. It was a crazy time for them right now, but he’d been insistent. So here they were, apparently eager to get things moving along. Fourteen months ago they’d gone through initial tests, the results of which had revealed no specific reason for their inability to have a baby. But Andrew’s determination to move forwards, today of all days, with everything they had coming to them over the next few months, was making Gemma feel pressured, fearful of whether they were in the right headspace for this.

‘Andrew, can we afford this?’ Gemma clutched a pile of leaflets to her chest – everything from fertility and egg collection to ovulation cycles and embryo transfers – as they left Doctor Baxter’s office. Money was always a worry and would continue to be if the business slowed over the next few months with most of their time assigned to a hospital schedule until Andrew was back to himself again. The doctor had given them estimates of the costs involved with IVF, so they weren’t surprised, but although Medicare would cover some of it, Gemma already knew the out-of-pocket costs were going to be astronomical.

Andrew hugged his wife close as they reached the little school at the top of the hill. ‘We want a family, of course we can afford it.’

‘But we’ve spent so much money setting up the shop. And I’ll have to turn down any more workshop bookings while you’re in hospital.’

‘Try not to worry,’ Andrew assured her. ‘Everything will work out, you’ll see.’ He kissed her goodbye before she disappeared into the school and he set off down the hill to the chocolaterie.

*

At lunchtime, after her stint on playground duty, Gemma went to the staffroom. She ate her sandwich and fruit and then put the kettle on to boil for a well-earned cup of tea.

‘How’s Ellie?’ It was Bridget, principal of Magnolia Creek Primary and someone who was already becoming a friend.

‘She’s doing well. She’s a lovely girl and I think with some dedicated time she’ll soon settle in.’ She dropped a teabag into her cup.

Ellie was an eight-year-old with a heart of gold but with learning difficulties, which meant she’d fallen further and further behind her peers. She had mild autism, which hadn’t been picked up until she’d started school, and Gemma was determined her light would shine as brightly as any other child’s in the class. Kids weren’t moulded like the chocolates at the shop, they weren’t labelled with standard ingredients. Kids came in all different shapes and sizes, so did their minds and their personalities, their quirks.

Bridget found a cup and a teabag, and Gemma poured the water for both of them.

‘I can see she’s blossoming with you,’ said Bridget.

Ellie hadn’t had the easiest of times. She’d been in and out of foster care for the first couple of years of her life and was eventually adopted when she was four years old. The child needed stability, and Gemma would do her utmost to at least give it to her in the school environment.

‘Your qualifications
jumped out at me the first time I saw your résumé, Gemma.’ Bridget sat down on the sofa beside her. ‘We’ve needed someone like you on the team for a while.’

Gemma beamed. ‘I’m so happy to be here.’ She’d always wanted to be a teacher, and her high school work experience at a primary school had eventually led to studying a Bachelor of Education (Special Education).

‘So tell me, how’s the chocolaterie going?’ Bridget sipped her tea. ‘You and your husband are like angels sent from heaven … you with your teaching skills, him with the heavenly chocolate.’

‘You’ll start drooling in a minute.’

‘I can’t help it. Bella’s café was bad enough, and those scones she makes are to die for, but a chocolate shop is something else.’

‘Thanks, I’ll be sure to pass on the compliment to Andrew. It’s going well and we love the town.’

‘I have a soft spot for it myself.’

‘Emerald is beautiful too.’ Bridget lived in a pretty country house in Emerald, a thirty-minute drive away at the top of a little hill. It was secluded and surrounded by bush, and on the couple of occasions Gemma had visited her there, she’d loved the tranquillity almost as much as Magnolia Creek.

‘Emerald is home,’ said Bridget. ‘But don’t ever open a chocolate shop there or I’ll have to start one of those crazy boot camps to keep the kilos off!’

Gemma tapped her wedding rings against her mug as they sat.

‘Something troubling you?’ asked Bridget.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Er … the irritating way you’re doing that.’ She nodded to Gemma’s hands clasped around her mug as the rings tap-tapped again.

Gemma’s hands stilled. ‘Sorry.’

‘Are you worried about Louis?’

Gemma had been juggling her times at school more than she would’ve liked, and Bridget had been utterly fabulous about it all. And now she’d need more time off with the upcoming operations for her husband and father-in-law.

Gemma lowered her voice. ‘We’re worried about Louis, but we’re also trying to have a family.’

Bridget matched Gemma’s hushed tones. ‘Maybe it’s the worry over Louis. Stress can sometimes hamper the baby-making process.’

Gemma’s face told the other woman it was far more complicated. ‘We’ve been trying for a while, and I’ve had a few miscarriages.’

‘Gemma, I didn’t realise. Trust me to put my great big foot in it.’

‘I don’t tell anyone because I try to deny there’s anything wrong. I tell myself something wasn’t right with the baby so this is for the best. I tell myself that next time … next time it’ll work and it’ll stick, the baby will grow happily inside me for nine months and all this pain will be worth it.’ She swiped a single tear daring to start its way down her apple cheek.

Bridget put down her mug and patted Gemma’s arm. Thankfully the staffroom was empty now except for them, everyone else having eaten as soon as the bell had gone.

Gemma pulled a tissue from the pocket of her cotton trousers and blew her nose. ‘This morning we chatted to the doctor about IVF. Although God knows where we’re going to fit it in, with Louis’ dialysis, the operations.’

After a moment, Bridget said, ‘How’s Andrew taking all this?’

‘You know, I forget that every time I miscarry, he’s losing a child as well. He’s desperate to become a dad, I know he is, but he doesn’t tell me, not any more.’

‘It must be putting a strain on you. I’m here if you need to talk,’ she added with a glance at the clock that told them they’d better ready themselves for the end of lunchtime and the start of the school afternoon.

A problem shared was supposed to be a problem halved, but right now Gemma felt as though their family troubles could only be reduced in size if a massive meteorite fell from outer space and landed right in the middle of them.

*

When Andrew arrived home that evening, covered in chocolate and powder from the shop, Gemma was at the stove preparing a soft caramel to use to fill truffles at the shop the next day. As the caramel mixture came to the boil, she removed it from the heat and turned to hug her husband.

‘I’m filthy!” He laughed but pulled her into him.

Gemma kept her head resting in the crook of his neck, breathing against his skin. She didn’t care if he was dirty. The sweet scent of chocolate intoxicated her, and it was the smell of home, of comfort and security.

Andrew pulled back, and she brushed chocolate powder from the front of her top. He held a hand to the side of her face. ‘How was your afternoon?’

‘Good, and yours?’

‘Busy as always.’

Andrew was his usual calm self, and Gemma wondered how he did it. How was he able to remain so composed rather than fretful about everything happening in their lives all at once? She poured cream into the hot liquid in the pan and stirred it through. Without looking at her husband, she said, ‘I know this whole baby-making plan must be taking its toll on you, but please don’t stop talking to me. Please.’

He hugged her from behind. ‘Of course I won’t.’

The cream had disappeared into the liquid by now, but she didn’t move. She stayed in his arms. He was still hugging her as she chopped butter into cubes and stirred it until it’d melted.

Louis knocked at the back door like he always did before he came in. ‘Not interrupting, am I?’ he asked.

‘Dad, come in.’ Andrew was at his side straight away, but Louis swished his arm away, declaring he wasn’t completely useless. At least not yet. It was baby steps with Louis. He’d agreed to let them help by arranging the kidney transplant, but he wasn’t about to let them do anything else before he had to, no matter how small.

Gemma made them all a cup of tea and added milk to hers and Andrew’s. She tried not to stare at her father-in-law, who seemed to have aged another ten years in the space of twenty-four hours. He looked so tired, the skin sallow and sagging around his eyes, the pallor of his face ghost-like. His fingers were more swollen than usual, and with his breathing came a wheezing sound she hadn’t heard before. It seemed to echo around the quiet kitchen today as she watched father and son lift their mugs at the same time, form the same rounded shape with their lips to blow across the scalding liquid. Next to one another, Louis looked like Andrew except the fast forward button had been hit and wound ahead a couple of decades.

‘I always thought it’d be my mind to go first,’ said Louis.

Gemma sipped her tea. ‘Before your kidneys?’

‘I don’t work, I hate those crosswords or sudoku things Penny
would lose herself in for an afternoon. Not using your brain is supposed to be very bad.’

Andrew was quick to correct him. ‘You use your brain all the time. It’s not like you’ve been sitting around staring at the TV. You’re always chatting, thinking about the chocolaterie, helping me introduce new ideas. Your mind is that of a twenty-year-old.’

‘Oh dear, let’s hope that’s not true!’ Louis chuckled.

The laughter warmed Gemma right through as Louis reminisced with his son about some of the best chocolates they’d thought of over the years. It never took them long to get onto their favourite topic in the world. Everything from the chocolate replica of dog poo for Halloween to the Willy Wonka Golden Ticket they’d made for World Book Day. The laughter reminded Gemma of the first time she’d met Louis and Penny Bennett. Andrew had been asked to look after his parents’ house and their dog, Bill, when they went away to Adelaide. Andrew had gone all out with the romance factor, seeing as they’d only been dating for a month, and he’d lit candles, made a roaring log fire, wined and dined her. One thing led to another, and they were almost naked on the rug in front of the fire when Louis and Penny had pushed open the lounge door. They’d flown home a day earlier than Andrew had expected. All four people had frozen, shock on their faces, and Louis and Penny had scarpered from the room as quickly as the passion had disappeared. And then all Andrew and Gemma could hear were his parents absolutely wetting themselves laughing, echoing around the entire house, and before long they were laughing too. It was certainly one way to get quickly acquainted with her in-laws. Gemma had made Louis promise not to mention the way they’d met in any future family gatherings, and so far he’d been a man of his word.

BOOK: The Chocolatier's Secret (Magnolia Creek, Book 2)
3.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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