Chapter 17
17
Three and a half weeks to Christmas
‘Now, try this chocolate, and describe it to me.’
I pick it up from the plate. I look at the shine on it, like ice on the lake at the outskirts of town when the sun hits it. I smell it. I bite and it cracks, like ice underfoot. Then I let it sit on my tongue. The chocolate is dark, the crack loud, and the taste is like sitting in the kitchen at the family farmhouse, drinking hot chocolate.
‘And this one?’
‘Vodka, like the rush of the waterfall, thrilling!’ My smile widens.
‘Exactly!’ he pronounces. ‘Each chocolate must make you not just taste but feel!’
‘Right, tell me about this one.’ I point.
‘This is one of those days when the mist rolls in and sits there. It doesn’t move. Life doesn’t move.’
‘Sounds a bit gloomy,’ I say. ‘What happens when the mist lifts?’
He looks into the fire. ‘I’m not sure it has yet. But maybe it will … one day.’
‘So, if you were a chocolate how would you describe yourself?’ I ask.
He thinks about it. ‘Dark, with a snap on the outside, but a surprising soft centre. An acquired taste, but with genuine intention to please the palate and bring joy. You?’
‘An unsurprising casing, but with hidden layers yet to be discovered.’
We laugh and I yawn.
‘Let’s call it a night. You must be tired.’
‘Actually, I’m buzzing! I feel more alive than I have in a long time.’ Another huge yawn creeps up on me and I stretch. My eyes are heavy.
He gives a soft laugh.
‘It’s the fresh air,’ I say.
‘Or the heavy night,’ he laughs, ‘with your friend. Let me make you another hot chocolate and then I’ll walk you home.’
Right now, I feel more content than I have in a long time, just thinking about chocolate.
‘Gabriel, how many Lindors can you fit into your mouth at the same time?’ I ask.
‘What? Why would I?’
‘Because it’s fun!’
‘Fun?’
‘Yes – like putting a Malteser and a Rolo in your mouth at the same time. Have you never done that? I love putting chocolates together in one go.’
‘Maybe you’re right. Perhaps I’d forgotten chocolate is supposed to be fun.’
I sit and gaze into the fire. My eyes feel heavier and heavier, and my legs curl up on the sofa. Sometime later I feel a heavy blanket covering me and I sleep.
The next morning I open my eyes and see Gabriel dressed and peering out of the apartment window. ‘The snow came on pretty heavy last night,’ he says, handing me hot chocolate as I sit up on the sofa.
‘Sorry, I fell asleep. You’ve been up and working?’
‘Yup … didn’t go to bed. You ready to taste some chocolate for me?’
‘Always!’
We spend the rest of the weekend in his workshop talking flavours. Gabriel tells me about his travels and I tell him about Daniel.
‘And that was Daniel I saw you with?’
I nod.
‘And how did things go?’
‘He wants to talk.’
‘And do you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘How long were you dating before you moved here?’
I flush, embarrassed. ‘Not long.’
‘How long?’ he persists.
‘Well, it was … a few weekends away. We met online and were chatting. We got on well. We’d meet for the weekend in a pub, with rooms, halfway between our homes.’ I swallow. ‘Looking back, we spent most of the time getting to know each other in the bedroom.’ My cheeks are burning now. ‘And then his job came up and we thought, Why not? Let’s grab life by the horns, take the chance on finding love.’
I’m feeling foolish and hold my hands over my face.
‘It seems to me that you two haven’t had time to get to know each other – you haven’t dated properly.’
‘We did meet up and—’ I cough.
He laughs. ‘Maybe you should get to know each other.’ His eyes widen. ‘Now, there’s a recipe for a signature box. Twelve dates. Twelve chocolates. How did they make you feel? And by the end of it you’ll know one way or the other. You should get to know each other slowly. Start dating like people did in the old days.’
I giggle. ‘There you go, showing your age again!’ I tease.
‘I’ll have you know forty-four and three-quarters is not old! But it’s true. People meet online and think they know each other. You can only get to know someone when you meet in person. It’s like reading the description on a box of chocolates. You can only experience and understand what the chocolate-maker is thinking when you taste the result.’
‘So you’re saying it didn’t work because we didn’t go on dates.’
‘It’s like poorly tempered chocolate. It won’t work. There are no foundations. There is no point putting on the colouring, decoration, presenting it if the tempering is poor. You need to get to know your chocolate before you understand what you need to add to it.’
‘But it’s a bit late for that.’
‘Go on a date, get to know each other. Go back to the beginning.’
‘A backwards romance?’
‘Yes. Does he want you back?’
I nod. ‘He keeps texting, asking to meet up. Says he’s sorry for any mistakes he’s made.’
‘We can all make mistakes.’
And somehow I’m thinking about the Thai green curry chocolates. ‘We can!’ I agree.
‘Why not try to get to know each other? Why not give those twelve dates a go and then decide if you want to carry on?’
‘Twelve dates, like a box of chocolates, and see how it makes me feel.’ I start to consider how twelve dates may look in chocolate form.
‘And then you decide whether to stay or … move on.’
And if I was dating Daniel, it would stop me developing feelings for Gabriel.
‘To the next box of chocolates!’ I laugh.
‘Exactly! If you don’t try, you won’t know. Text him.’
I stare at Gabriel. I love how comfortable we’ve become in each other’s company. He’s right. I should give this a chance. I pull out my phone and text Daniel, asking him to meet tomorrow.
It’s Monday, and after a morning in the classroom I walk down to the town and wait.
‘Hi,’ I say, and raise a hand to Daniel, coming towards me from the station.
‘Hi,’ he says shyly, as if we’ve never met. He steps forward, takes my hands and goes to kiss me.
I retreat, but smile. ‘First date, remember?’
‘Ah, yes.’ He smiles too, and I’m reminded of how much I like that smile, inviting me into his world when we first met. ‘To get to know each other.’ He smiles wider. Like the anticipation of choosing your first chocolate as you open the lid and reach for the menu, breathing in the first hit of cocoa.
‘No, physical contact,’ he says, crossing his hands over each other.
‘We need to start from the beginning, Daniel. Get to know each other, like I said in my text. Fill in the bits we missed when we first met. It was all a bit whirlwind, meeting, finding each other attractive …’
‘Very attractive.’
And I blush a little.
‘And moving here. Forgetting to get to know each other.’
‘Well, there wasn’t really time, was there? We took a leap of faith.’
‘We did.’ I smile. ‘Everyone said we were mad.’
‘Life is for living.’ He tries to take my hand and I shove both into my pockets.
‘We just need to start from the beginning again.’
‘We do. But, phffff , you’re beautiful and I wish I could whisk you back to the apartment.’
‘That’s where it all went wrong, Daniel. Not that there was anything wrong in that department,’ I add hastily. ‘Far from it.’ I giggle nervously.
He nods. ‘We need to take things slowly. Get to know each other. And if twelve dates is what it takes, and what you want, to get us back on track, I can wait. I want this to work, Clara. We could be together in the apartment for Christmas.’
I feel a fizz of excitement. The anticipation of the first chocolate. The smell, the look of it, hearing the crack under your teeth.
‘Hi, my name is Daniel,’ he raises a hand in a wave, ‘and I live in Geneva.’
I laugh.
‘Hi, I’m Clara and I live in Switzerland too … for the time being.’
We grin.
‘And what do you do, Clara?’
‘I’m an apprentice chocolate-maker.’
‘Interesting. So, where are we going on our first date?’ he asks.
‘Well, seeing as we’re just getting to know each other, how about going for hot chocolate? I know a great place with amazing views.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
We head to the hot-chocolate stall, up a flight of stone steps to a covered terrace, looking out over the town, smoke curling from the chimneys, snow clinging to the wooden shutters and balconies. The smell of the crisp, cold air with the hot chocolate is amazing.
‘Grab a table,’ I tell him, pointing to the wooden benches lined up along the rampart overlooking the town, with white lights strung across the cobbled street, the decorated and lit church, the castle in festive glory and the high mountains where skiers are enjoying the perfect pre-Christmas conditions.
‘ Merci, Charles,’ I say, taking two cups of hot chocolate to where Daniel is sitting astride the wooden bench. I put them on the table and pull off a glove so that I can sip mine. I sit beside him on the bench looking out over the view. ‘This was once a lookout, to keep the town safe from invaders,’ I tell him, repeating what Gabriel had told me.
We sip our hot chocolate and I’m wondering where to start.
‘How’s work?’ I ask, between blowing on the hot chocolate, breathing in its scent and watching the holidaymakers heading for the slopes.
‘Good, good.’ He nods, and we fall into an unexpected silence. ‘This is good,’ he says. ‘I haven’t had hot chocolate in years.’
‘Really?’ I say.
He shakes his head. ‘Not since I was a child. It isn’t a very grown-up thing, is it? Unless it’s got a slug of something strong in it.’
I mull over what he’s said. ‘I’ve always loved hot chocolate. But until I came here, I never knew it could be so good.’ I glance at all of the other adults queuing and paying for hot chocolate.
‘But this is great,’ he says quickly, clearly trying to cross the divide that seems to have opened already between us. ‘Takes me back to being a child. At boarding school. We’d have it when we got back from a weekend at home.’
‘Boarding school?’
‘Yes.’ He moves on. ‘So, tell me about your course. How are you getting on?’
‘It’s good,’ I say, feeling a little lift as I tell him what we’ve been learning and what we have to do. ‘My tempering is improving. I’ve been learning to use moulds, make ganache. That’s like chocolate and fresh cream with different flavourings. We’ve made solid chocolate bars and figurines. My first figurines were a disaster but they’re better now.’
‘How much longer have you got to go?’
‘Until the twenty-third, just before Christmas, of course. We have a presentation afternoon. We’ll present a sculpture each, a box of twelve signature chocolates, and there’s a blind tasting. One chocolate. We’re all given the same ingredients and the guests at the event will choose their favourite.’
‘And then what?’
‘I – I don’t know,’ I say honestly. ‘I have no idea.’
‘Look, I’ve put out some feelers. There’s a job for you at my place if you want it. No pressure. But I can arrange a meeting for you. They’re keen to see you.’
‘Back in HR?’
‘Yes. It’s a good job. Plenty of room to move upwards. I mean, it’s not chocolate work, but that was never going to be a serious career choice, was it?’ He chuckles. ‘I mean,’ he says, more seriously, ‘it’s great you’re enjoying it. And it’s done what you wanted. Filled in some time while you thought about what to do next.’ He looks at me. ‘That was what you were thinking, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, yes. There’s no future for me in chocolate. Where would I start, or go?’ I laugh, sounding like someone else. Someone I knew … an old me.
We sip the hot chocolate.
‘And our works Christmas party is on the twenty-third, if you’d like to come. That could be our twelfth date!’ He smiles.
‘As long as I can come after the presentation here. I’ll check the times.’
We finish the hot chocolate and head back down the steps from the lookout tower.
‘So, how do you think it’s gone, our first date?’ asks Daniel, as we walk around the town. I show him the views from the castle and ask him more about his boarding-school days. He asks what tempering chocolate means as we walk back towards the station.
‘Well, it was nice to see you, Daniel, but now there is somewhere I have to be.’
Daniel’s smile drops. ‘Really?’
‘Really. Sorry. But it was nice to see you.’
‘Maybe we could do this again.’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ I say. What if pressing the reset button on our relationship would work? A backwards relationship. Like a box of chocolates, taking each day at a time, chocolate by chocolate.
‘What happens now?’ he asks, coming to a stop as the church bells start to chime, like a music box. They’re letting me know that lunchtime is at an end and I have to be getting back to the classroom.
‘We thank each other for our company and go our separate ways,’ I say, feeling a warm glow inside me to match the glow of the hot chocolate, keeping the cold at bay.
‘And arrange another date?’
‘If you’d like to.’
‘I would. My turn to choose?’
I nod.
‘Okay, leave it with me. I’ll message you.’
He turns away, then turns back and holds up his hands. ‘See? I can do this!’ I smile as he pushes his hands into his pockets and heads for the station. Part of me wants to shout after him, and go back to the warm apartment with him, but that won’t help anything.
I find my feet treading back towards the chocolate school and my mind, although I’m thinking about the nice time I’ve just had, is contemplating the hot chocolate. Bonbon one, date one, hot chocolate, my head is saying. Let’s start at the beginning. I hurry towards the doors of the chocolate school, pulling off my hat as I rush in towards the classroom, trying not to run.