‘Don’t apologise. I’m glad to have you to myself for a while. Being part of a tour group wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I planned this trip.’ His smile was rueful. ‘I know you said you weren’t interested in a relationship, but I can’t stop thinking about you or wanting to spend time with you. I’m not very good at giving up on what I want. I’m of the opinion life’s too short not to keep trying.’
Mina took a deep breath. ‘What if I told you I’d had a change of heart, which is crazy because I’m only here for a couple more days.’
‘England’s not so far away,’ he said, lowering his face nearer to hers. ‘And I could be posted anywhere. It doesn’t have to be Switzerland.’
‘Funny,’ she said tilting her head up. ‘I’d just decided I’d quite like to stay here.’
His mouth was mere inches from hers and she wasn’t sure who closed the gap first.
Excitement like a thousand bees buzzed through her as his lips touched hers. How could she have forgotten this exhilaration?
Luke pulled back first. ‘Shall we go and find somewhere for lunch?’
‘Yes. What about the others?’
‘What about them?’ asked Luke with a grin. ‘Every man for himself. We’ll see them back on the bus at two.’
He held her hand as they wandered along the street trying to decide which of the charming-looking restaurants did the best fondue in the world. They finally settled on a traditional, rustic place doing a roaring trade.
Mina let out a sigh. ‘This is more like it. I think I’m quite a simple creature at heart. That place should be in New York or a trendy part of London.’
‘Bernhardt is obviously a fan. I think he’s rather proud that Switzerland could produce something of that ilk.’
‘Bernhardt can keep it. Not my thing at all. I can appreciate it’s clever and unique, but it made me feel quite uncomfortable. If I ate in somewhere like that, I’d spend the whole time looking over my shoulder convinced something nasty and bony was going to jump out at me. Restaurants and bars should be welcoming and homely, making you relax, not feel stressed. The lighting should be just right to give a glow, like a beacon guiding you home, the furniture comfortable but not too fussy so that you worry about spilling things on it, and the menu appealing without too much pretentious nonsense about it. You know, include those things that you don’t realise are exactly what you fancy. Things that are hearty but a treat as well. And of course it should be all about quality. Locally sourced ingredients and authentic overseas specialities.’
‘It sounds as if you’ve given it a lot of thought.’
‘Sorry, my sister Hannah would say I’ve gone off on one.’ Mina paused. ‘It’s my hobby horse, the perfect restaurant, although I don’t have any desire to open one of my own. I just know exactly what I want in a restaurant, but that’s not the sort of cooking I want to do. I prefer sweet treats, desserts, chocolates.’ Something glimmered at the back of her mind, an elusive idea that floated just out of reach. She knew from experience it was best to let things to percolate and come to her when they were ready, although she could do with the idea speeding up because, as she’d told Luke, she only had a few more days here.
They were just about to enter the restaurant when Kristian’s voice hailed them. ‘There you are. I’ve left Uta and Bernhardt because I wanted fondue. This place looks nice.’
Mina and Luke avoided looking at each other.
‘That’ll be a table for three then,’ said Luke dryly.
The others caught up with them on the coach, having opted to stay and eat at the Giger Bar. Mina hoped the food was more appealing than the avant garde décor. Next stop was the Maison Cailler in Broc, a five-minute bus ride away. According to Bernahrdt, who had done his research, Cailler was the first and oldest brand of chocolate in Switzerland.
The rich delicious smell of chocolate reached them before they even disembarked from the bus. Mina closed her eyes and inhaled, the air redolent with the sinfully decadent scent.
‘This could be the closest thing to heaven,’ she murmured with a little moan.
‘You’re not going to have aWhen Harry Met Sallymoment, are you?’ asked Luke, amusement at the expression on her face sparkling in his eyes.
‘There’s a distinct possibility.’ Mina linked an arm through his, ignoring the narrowing of Bernhardt’s eyes ‘Come on, you.’
Everyone from the coach crowded in, milling about in the foyer before being funnelled onto the tour, which did feel very much like a school trip. Informative and educational, with typical Swiss efficiency, the well-designed displays gave considerable insight into the origins of chocolate, where the beans were grown, how they were harvested and treated on the way to being made into chocolate. Mina, keen to learn as much as she could, paid attention to how chocolate was made and how solid chocolate as eaten today came into being. Bernhardt chipped in plenty of additional facts. Apparently, before a chap called Daniel Peter added milk to chocolate, it was a gritty bitter paste. His use of condensed milk produced by the Nestlé factory next door created the product now known the world over as chocolate.
As the tour progressed, Mina’s hunger to know more grew keener, but the tour kept them at arm’s length during the actual processes, much of it mechanised behind huge plate-glass windows, and there was no one around to answer the questions she had.
When they reached the end of the tour, Mina felt a little edgy and irritated, and even more determined to press Johannes to let her go and see his operation.
‘You look like you’re planning something,’ commented Luke as they made their way out. ‘Are you planning to go into production?’
‘Not yet. But I am going to bombard Johannes with a gazillion questions. He can’t possibly have all that machinery. And I know lots of smaller, artisan producers who don’t have that level of production, so how do they do it? That’s what I’m really interested in.’
‘If Johannes won’t help, I have a friend in Vevey who has a cousin who runs a chocolate shop. Perhaps I could arrange a visit for you?’ Bernhardt offered.
‘That’s very kind, but I’m running short of time, and Johannes is on the doorstep. It’s alright, I’ll come up with something.’ A sweetener perhaps, like telling him what Amelie’s favourite flowers were, or when her birthday was.
