Chapter 18
18
Back in the classroom, I jot down the taste of Charles’s hot chocolate, laced with a touch of brandy, like I had at Gabriel’s. Date one. Hot chocolate and an introduction to each other. The start of a journey. Simple but exciting. I’m still making notes when I hear, ‘ Bonjour, tout le monde .’
‘ Bonjour, Madame ,’ we repeat.
‘Today, and for the rest of the week, you will be working on your chocolate sculpture ideas. You will discuss your plan with Jacques, then design it. Practise each element, and then, as you know, chocolate sculptures have a long shelf life. They will be made and kept in the right conditions, here in the school, for them to go on display at our end-of-term presentation, the end of your time with us.’
I can’t believe we’re so close to Christmas and our final presentations.
‘These pieces will go on display in Reception as part of our Christmas celebrations on your last day and will go towards finding our chocolatier in residence before you all leave us. You’ll present your ideas and sculptures at the end of the week.’
We spend the afternoon sketching, planning and ordering ingredients from Alain. After class, when everyone goes back to the chalet to work on their designs, I head up to Gabriel’s workshop, as I do every evening that week, telling Fleur I’m staying on to work in the classroom. Between working in the classroom and assisting Gabriel, I swap messages with Daniel: we ask about each other’s day, tell funny stories and memories of life before Switzerland. We meet for dinner and other activities. I’ve never been busier or happier, getting to know this place and growing in confidence when it comes to chocolate.
‘Just try this for me, one last time,’ Gabriel says, holding out a spoon. He comes to stand in front of me. The light in the workshop is low, his face soft and warm.
‘I’ve tasted it! Lots! It’s brilliant!’
‘You can never taste too much. I just need to be sure it’s there.’
‘I know,’ I say, feeling for him. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. Just taste this.’ He holds out the spoon and I let him feed me with the sweet, soft ganache, layered with other flavours from the fields around and blended with flavours from his first trip, as a young maverick chocolate-maker, to Asia. His past meeting his present. A fusion of flavours, ideas and places that have made him the person he is today.
‘And you’re sure the balance is right between the clover and the miso?’
‘Honestly, it’s amazing!’ I say.
‘Great.’
‘And is my tempering better?’
‘Much. Your painting is too, much steadier hand. Just sorry I can’t comment on the flavours. But, you know, the way your chocolates are looking, you’ve come a long way.’
‘From the “ridiculous mess” of my truffles.’
‘Yes, sorry about that, again.’
‘No,’ I laugh, ‘it’s fine.’
‘You have a shot at this, you know. You could be as good as any of those others in that class.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. You’re putting in the hard work. If it were an even playing field, you’d definitely be in with a shout for the residency.’
‘If …?’
‘I told you, it’s a cutthroat world. It’s not an even playing field. If only it were! Just keep your story and your flavours simple. Be you! Now, would you like me to walk you back?’
‘No, really, I’m fine.’ I wave.
‘Sure? Don’t want you falling.’
‘I won’t.’
‘It’s a big day for you tomorrow, presenting your sculptures to us. Is there anything else you need to do?’
I shake my head. ‘It’s fine. I’m all done. Bonsoir, Gabriel.’
‘ Bonsoir, Clara. And good luck for tomorrow. I’ll see you in the classroom.’
As I leave his workshop, something is rattling me. An even playing field? I didn’t come here to win the residency. I just wanted time to think about my next move … But now, why shouldn’t it be me? Why shouldn’t I have just as much of a chance as the next person? What if I did want it?
I decide just to drop into the classroom to check that my moulds haven’t cracked. The lights are low in Reception and there is still a light on in the classroom.
‘Hello, Clara,’ says a voice.
‘Oh, Michel, you made me jump! What are you doing here?’
‘Same as you, I expect,’ he says, looking up at the flight of stairs I’ve just come from.
‘Oh.’ I find myself almost tongue-tied. ‘I was just … getting in some extra practice. Putting on some finishing touches.’
He raises an eyebrow.
‘Actually, I’ve come to check my filled moulds haven’t cracked before tomorrow. Just nervous about the presentation.’
‘Me too … Getting a few shots for my TikTok, general photographs, that kind of thing,’ he says, holding up his phone. But it still seems a bit strange to see him here at this time of night – to see anyone for that matter. They’re usually either back at the chalet, eating takeaway pizza, scouring the internet for ideas and designs or at the terrace bar.
‘Well, erm,’ I raise a hand, ‘see you back at the chalet?’
‘Yes.’ He nods. ‘See you there.’
‘I’m just going to get my coat,’ I say, pointing towards the anteroom, wondering again why he’s hanging around Reception at this time of night and hoping he hasn’t realized where I’ve just come from. I promised Gabriel no one would find out or start to ask questions.
He points at the classroom. ‘Weren’t you just in there?’
We’re sounding as wary as each other about being in the school at this time of night – the night before the big reveal of our sculptures.
‘Erm, yes, but I … went to use the bathroom.’ And suddenly I’m totally wrong-footed. ‘Anyway, see you.’ I push through the classroom door, watching behind me as Michel checks his phone, and turn back to the classroom, the cleared-down workstations, ready for tomorrow, all except one. I freeze as I’m faced with what I can only assume is wilful vandalism.
‘ Nooooo! ’ I shout.
The determined face looks up at me, then back at the chocolate creation. I run towards it, my heart thundering.
But, too late, I watch as a rolling pin crashes down and chocolate shards scatter everywhere from the tall, cracked and crumbling sculpture.