Chapter 4 #3
She saw in that moment exactly why her dad hadn’t liked him.
He did talk about himself a lot, but it wasn’t just a passion for his business and chocolate – it was arrogance, self-importance, with little regard for anyone else.
And she felt like a victim for trusting him, believing him, working harder than he ever had at the business.
She could see now that she had been the one to keep the business profitable over the last couple of years.
All those times she’d worked long into the night, seven days a week sometimes, thinking she was supporting him as he grew and expanded in other locations, the times she’d felt sorry for him as she’d thought he was doing his best, he was playing cards and losing even more money.
‘You need to leave, Grant. Now.’
He opened his mouth, but didn’t argue. She closed the door almost before he was completely over the threshold.
The saving grace was that she hadn’t gone into business with him. His financial losses were his. She could walk away.
Except that in the long term, she had no idea where she went to from here.
* * *
An hour later, with the remaining chocolates packaged up in the boxes and tied off with a bow, she decided she had to start sharing them around. She couldn’t keep them for herself. And she couldn’t fit them all in her suitcase either.
Much like her mum did every year with her cinnamon rolls, Meg delivered surprise packages to some of the other flats in her building. It reminded her how she’d done the same when she was starting out, before she’d had the skills and confidence.
She bumped into a few of her neighbours on her rounds and the conversations about chocolate she could manage.
What she couldn’t do was talk about the closure of The Cocoa Cupboard as Liam from flat No.
3 wanted to do because he’d been a frequent customer and had seen it in all its current glory – windows covered in Windex, the shop clearly devoid of the usual elaborate displays of confection for passersby to be tempted with, no queue at the door as there had been on so many days.
She went back to her flat for her coat and escaped outside to walk. She couldn’t sit in the flat any longer thinking about the loss, what might have been, what came next.
She ended up on Regent Street, marvelling at the iconic illuminated angels who always flew through the sky at this time of year in this part of the city. She walked on to Covent Garden to see the enormous Christmas tree. She paced beneath the vibrant lights of Carnaby Street.
This Christmas was going to be so different.
Normally by this point, Meg would’ve been inundated with orders.
She’d be busy making all kinds of novelty Christmas chocolates in more flavours than she could keep up with.
She’d be putting together bespoke selection boxes and tying them off with elaborate gold bows.
She’d be handing out tasters at the door to the chocolaterie to entice people to treat loved ones to some special chocolate this year, and she’d be doing all of it with a joy and energy she’d never wanted to let go as she wished her customers a very Merry Christmas.
This year she’d be in the Swiss Alps instead of doing any of that. When she’d heard her mum’s voice a few days ago, she’d felt the strongest pull to home. Not a place, but the feeling her sister, Chrissie, had always gone on about.
Had Meg been wrong about that too? Was home a feeling rather than a place?
Had she pushed away all sense of home and family because she’d felt shoved from pillar to post as a kid and was unable to see it for herself?
At least she hadn’t until now, when she felt desperate for those things.
In two days, she would be getting on a plane to Bern and transferring from there to the Swiss Alps for Christmas with her parents at their chalet in Winterbruck.
She just wasn’t sure how much of herself she could or would share this year, but maybe the time away would help her figure out what to do next.
She could go into the town, or to Bern if she so desired, and visit chocolateries like she’d done as a teenager.
She could explain getting away from the chalet and inevitable questions by claiming she was doing research, making sure that she was on top of her game with her business in London.
It was a lie, she knew, but for now she couldn’t bear to admit the truth.
She would, in time, but not yet. Eventually she would tell her parents that Grant had lied to her, that he’d got rid of the business and she was no longer a lead chocolatier anywhere.
But for now, Grant’s non-appearance would easily be explained, since after the one and only time she’d taken him there, he’d never wanted to go again, and she could tell her parents that he and the other staff were managing the shop in her absence.
The one blessing with her impending visit was that her sister never went to Switzerland for Christmas, not since she lost her husband. Home for her seemed to be in Oxfordshire, so at least Meg wouldn’t have to face Chrissie and the complications that came with it.
Chrissie had made it clear that she would never ever accept Meg’s apologies.
And Meg was just going to have to keep getting used to that.