Page 25 of I’ll Be Home for Christmas

‘I worked hard, saved money, bought my flat, and all the while I practised making chocolate at home in my spare time. When I was thirty-six, I went to Italy to do a chocolate making course. Following that I worked in a chocolate factory, then it was on to another chocolate shop, an apprenticeship, and eventually I became lead chocolatier at The Cocoa Cupboard.’

‘I wish I could’ve been your guinea pig when you were practising.’

‘Your mum was when we were younger,’ she said without thinking.

‘Really?’

Meg smiled and rather than tell her about Chrissie and those times she missed so much she talked about her job at The Cocoa Cupboard. It was all true, she just didn’t add the part about the chocolaterie closing its doors for the final time.

The snow began to fall again. Meg stopped, turned on the spot. ‘I didn’t realise how much I’ve missed this. Proper snow, day after day. The whole town blanketed in white.’

‘Me too. I’m glad I came, especially at this time of year.’

They’d reached the town. They passed a bakery which smelled out of this world, a florist with deep-red poinsettias in the window and flourishes of greenery dotted with white berries.

‘Do you have a lot of time off work?’ Meg asked Sarah.

‘Until after Christmas.’

‘Dad says you love your job.’

‘I really do.’

‘How did you get started with painting and decorating? You’re only twenty so I’m guessing you didn’t have as big a detour as me when it came to your dream.’

‘When we first moved into the house in Chetbury it was tired – every room needed sprucing up, and so Mum and I did it together. I loved everything about it – talking about and planning the transformation, tearing off wallpaper, stripping multiple layers of paint off drawers to reveal the true wood underneath, repainting walls after we’d talked about colours. I’d work with Mum at weekends, after school. It was more interesting than my studies. Once school was finished, I did some work experience, then I got a job as a labourer assisting a local painter, then I did a diploma. Velvet Edge took me on after that.’

They passed a roasted chestnut stall, the aroma sitting on the cold air, and Sarah told her about some of the clients they’d worked for. ‘Our all-female team is popular with older customers and female customers. I think they feel more comfortable, less suspicious of being duped.’

Meg chuckled. ‘Girl power, eh?’ It was clear that this young woman loved her job as much as Meg had loved hers.

‘It’s exciting going to a client for the first time and starting the consulting process, although I don’t do that part myself, not yet. But I’m always there, always learning.’

They’d come to the chocolate shop and stopped outside. ‘This was where it all started,’ said Meg.

‘Your love of chocolate?’

Meg nodded. ‘I worked here weekdays, after school, and a bit like you with the home decorating, it ignited a passion in me.’

Sarah peered through the window. ‘I wonder if anyone inside will recognise you.’

‘I doubt it. You do know how old I am, don’t you?’ It was rhetorical and she didn’t expect Sarah to reply, but she did.

‘I can’t remember. You’re older than Mum, I know that much.’

Meg’s voice caught and she cleared her throat. ‘I’m fifty.’ And Sarah’s ramblings over Chrissie’s age, her last birthday, washed over her as the innocent question only served to remind her that the family had fragmented because of what she’d done.

They picked a variety of chocolates before they settled themselves at one of the few tables at the front of the shop. They sat and ate, talked and laughed. Meg started to feel the ache in her legs fading. They consumed small pieces of dark chocolate with a pistachio crunch, milk chocolate with slivers of almond, white chocolate truffles, melt-in-the-mouth dark chocolate with honeycomb, chocolate bark with sour cherries as well as the sour cherry-infused dark chocolate squares Meg had told the taxi driver about. They sampled a gingerbread spice, a Christmas rum pudding chocolate which was similar to those Meg had made at The Cocoa Cupboard. With Sarah, smiling and chatting away, it was as if Chrissie was back by her side. Which, Meg supposed, in a way she was through her daughter.

As they left the shop, Sarah put a hand to her tummy. ‘That was a lot of chocolate.’

‘I think I got carried away, ordering so many different things.’

They did their best to avoid getting splashed by passing cars driving through melted snow as they crossed the street to the little store with jackets and salopettes hanging in the window.

As they browsed Sarah told her, ‘I think your chocolates were better. I only had a couple last night – a champagne truffle and a salted praline. But they were pretty good.’

Meg paused, a pair of ski gloves in her hand which she vetoed for being too bulky. ‘I appreciate the vote of confidence. Thank you, Sarah.’