The Chocolatier's Secret (Magnolia Creek, Book 2) Read online

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  ‘How’s Dad?’ Andrew asked as soon as he arrived home that day. Louis had been strung out after the dialysis session yesterday, but this morning Gemma had reported he’d managed a bowl of oatmeal, so it had to be a good sign.

  ‘He’s much better than yesterday.’ She leant in to return Andrew’s kiss. ‘He’s in the annexe, and when I went over to take out the rubbish he mentioned going for a walk round the lake.’

  ‘And how are you?’ Andrew pulled her close.

  ‘I’m fine.’ She plucked a grape from its stalk, then another. ‘There’s a lot going on right now.’

  ‘I know.’ Andrew made her giggle when he nicked the grape from her fingers before it could make it to her mouth.

  ‘You watch it, Andrew Bennett. You be good to me or I won’t help you recuperate after the op!’

  He flashed her a smile before going out to the annexe to fetch Louis. The garden was bathed in autumn sunshine and the sweet smell of the dahlia tree wafted towards him as Andrew reached out to move aside the shaggy, tutu-like lavender flowers overhanging the doorway of the annexe. He’d have to cut it back before it took over.

  ‘Knock, knock,’ Andrew called, rapping lightly on the door.

  Louis appeared almost immediately and Andrew was glad to see he looked so well. Today was a good day. Last week Louis had shuffled in the back door to the house with the biscuit barrel tucked under his arm. It must have nearly killed him to ask for help opening it and Andrew took it as a sign his dad had accepted what was happening to him. But accepting it and letting others see it were two very different things.

  ‘Hello, son.’ Louis stepped out into the dahlia, untroubled that it was encroaching on his own front door. He had a hat on his head, runners on his feet.

  ‘Like the hat.’

  ‘I don’t want skin cancer to kill me after my I get my new kidney, so laugh all you like, I’m being careful.’

  Andrew took Louis’ arm in his. They went to the end of the garden, admiring the camellias with their glossy green foliage, the deep pinks of the flowers that added colour in autumn and winter. They went out the back gate and slowly up Myrtle Close to the top, along Main Street and down past the lake. They chatted about the shop, how sales were going, the upcoming Easter Egg Hunt.

  ‘It’s a magnificent venue for it,’ said Louis, looking up at Magnolia House as they walked past. They’d moved slowly, Louis’ arm linked through Andrew’s all the way, a first for them.

  ‘How are your feet?’ Andrew asked. ‘Not too sore?’

  ‘They’re not bad. Your Gemma bought me these runners, a size up from my usual, and they’ll do fine. The swelling seems to have gone down since yesterday.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  Louis gestured to the sand-coloured low wall running the circumference of the lake. ‘Having said that, do you mind if we sit for a moment?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Andrew helped Louis down to the level of the wall, glad his father was shorter than him, and a lot lighter, as he was bearing his weight. ‘Rest when you need to. There’s no need to rush.’

  ‘This Easter Egg Hunt will do wonders for the shop,’ said Louis, gesturing to the beautiful lake, the green space sitting to one side.

  ‘It’s good to get involved. I feel as though I’ve lived in Magnolia Creek a lot longer than I actually have.’

  ‘It’s got the small town charm for sure,’ said Louis. ‘I didn’t know whether you’d take to it, Gemma either, but you’ve both settled in fast as anything.’

  ‘Do you miss the big smoke?’

  Louis shook his head. ‘I thought I would but coming here with you both, I see the beauty in a country I’ve lived in for many years yet never taken a step back to fully appreciate. Breathing in country air is good for us all, Andrew.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Why do I sense a “but”?’

  Andrew took a deep breath. ‘It’s Gemma. I’m worried about her. Oh no, there’s nothing wrong,’ he added when he saw his dad’s face, ‘we’re having some problems, that’s all.’

  ‘Marital problems?’

  ‘Baby problems.’

  ‘Gemma’s pregnant?’

  ‘No. Well, she has been … before. She’s had four miscarriages since we started trying a while back.’

  Louis’ face fell. He took off his hat and ran a hand across what grey hair he had left to smooth down. ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this? We live – or almost live – in the same house.’

  ‘Gemma didn’t want to tell anyone, she didn’t want to worry you. You’ve got enough going on.’

  ‘We’ve all got problems, Andrew. Every single one of us.’

  ‘You’re probably right, but you know Gemma, she always wants to keep people happy. She loves you and I expect she senses how much you’d love a grandchild.’ Andrew smiled, almost to himself. ‘She also knows you’d spoil them rotten.’

  Louis’ return smile seemed a split-second too long in coming.

  ‘Are you sure you’re up to this walk?’ Andrew asked him. ‘We can head straight home if you like.’

  ‘Stop worrying. Come on. We’ll follow the path and loop back round up to Main Street.’

  Andrew helped him up, pulling his arm through his own again, holding his hand in place. They walked past the cottages and the lake and onto the trails leading through the bush. Thankfully this side of the town had got off lightly from the bushfire that swept through at the end of last year. There were still some blackened trees at the edges of the roads towards Magnolia Creek, but none of the residential streets had been affected and the blooms gave no hint of anything sinister.

  After a while Andrew broached the other subject on his mind.

  ‘I heard from Julia,’ he said.

  Louis stopped momentarily. ‘Julia?’

  ‘Julia Mason.’

  Louis took his arm from Andrew’s and continued walking. The path thinned and he walked carefully in front of his son, until it widened again.

  ‘Do you remember her?’ Andrew pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head.

  It was shaded on the trail despite some of the trees being lost in the bushfires. Louis removed his hat and carried it hooked onto his fingertips. ‘I do.’

  Andrew loved how close Louis was to Gemma, and he thought he’d been fond of Julia at the time, but since Julia had got pregnant all those years ago, his father had never mentioned her again. He’d never once asked how Andrew was, how he felt about what had happened. He’d whisked them away to Australia and hadn’t even blinked at the disruption it had caused.

  ‘Why did we suddenly emigrate?’

  Louis took a while to choose his words. ‘You know why. The opportunity came up and we wanted to take it.’ His breathing sounded laboured and Andrew pulled him to a standstill so he could focus on one action at a time: talking. ‘Son, what a fantastic life we lead now in a country of such beauty.’

  Andrew reached out and touched the blackened bark of a gum tree that had suffered in last year’s bushfires. The bark flaked beneath his fingers and fell to the ground. ‘Did you know most gum trees – eucalypts – can regenerate from seed after fire?’

  ‘I think I did hear that somewhere.’ Louis stared at the gum trees bordering the path up to the road.

  ‘They have amazing strength to be practically destroyed by what went before and still start all over again and flourish.’ Andrew turned to his father. ‘Dad, an opportunity to emigrate doesn’t just turn up, it has to be looked for. What I’m curious about is why you wanted to leave England? What happened to give you the nudge to do it?’

  Louis sighed and reached out to touch the bark of one of the trees, his feet negotiating the gnarled roots of another tree underfoot and across the path. ‘I wanted a fresh start for the whole family.’

  ‘After Julia got pregnant, you mean?’

  Louis didn’t speak but his face said a thousand things. Except Andrew had no idea what they were.

  ‘Dad, Julia never had
an abortion.’

  Louis stared at him in shock.

  ‘She had the baby. She gave our baby up for adoption.’

  Louis turned and walked slowly over to a tree stump, lowered himself down so he was sitting. ‘But I thought …’ A look of utter disbelief flooded Louis’ face, his hunched-over body giving away the fight with his health.

  Andrew sat down next to him and raked a hand through his hair, looked up into the pale blue sky, the clouds tinged with orange as the sun hid behind it. ‘All these years I’ve thought she had an abortion, but she didn’t. And then there’s the letters.’

  ‘Letters?’

  ‘She says she never sent me a letter, and I certainly never sent her one. Do you think … no, it’s crazy.’

  ‘Go on, son.’

  ‘Her sister, Terri, in the year below us had a reputation for forgeries at school. If ever you wanted a sick note, a letter to excuse you from a PE class, Terri was the person you asked. It’d cost you, but she did a good job.

  ‘Dad, what if Terri wrote the letters? She could’ve written the letter I thought was from Julia and forged my writing too – I’d written Julia enough cards when we were together. Maybe it was all an elaborate plan instigated by Julia’s mother to split us up. Lord knows she never much liked the idea of me and her daughter together.’

  ‘Son, it was a long time ago.’ Louis’ hat fell onto the path, the dried, dusty dirt coating the top of it.

  Andrew reached down, brushed it off and handed it back to him. ‘My daughter is out there somewhere. She even found Julia.’

  Louis shook his head again and again. Clearly this was a lot to take in. Gingerly he stood up and Andrew took his arm, linked it through his own. ‘I think I need to go home now, son.’

  Andrew patted his hand. ‘Of course.’

  They negotiated the uneven pathway approaching Main Street.

  ‘What the hell am I supposed to do, Dad? I have a daughter out there, somewhere. And apart from that, how am I supposed to tell my wife, the woman who so desperately wants to be a mother, about her? I’ve already created a life and she isn’t a part of it. Tell me what to do.’

  Louis kept walking, didn’t turn his head. ‘Damned if I know, son. Damned if I know.’

  And they didn’t say another word about it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gemma

  Gemma, Darcy, Carmen and Sofia gathered in Gemma’s lounge room the following weekend, no men allowed, bottle of Prosecco at the ready and another in the wine cooler in the kitchen. They’d done as promised and not left it too long between catch-ups and Gemma sensed they were avoiding baby talk. She’d had to wheedle details out of each of them about their offspring and eventually she’d confessed she and Andrew were looking into IVF.

  ‘So, what happens now, Gemma?’ Darcy pulled out a bag of Doritos and dumped it on the coffee table.

  ‘We’ll need to go in for tests.’ Gemma sipped Prosecco, enjoying the fizz of the bubbles.

  ‘So get yourself booked in.’ This also from Darcy. ‘You can’t waste any more time.’

  ‘Darcy, it’s not one of your work projects,’ said Sofia. ‘The girl has feelings.’

  ‘All I’m saying, and I’m sure Carmen will agree, is that your fertility declines rapidly with every year over thirty-five. You can’t hang about.’

  ‘It took us ages,’ said Carmen. ‘We tried for two and a half years to get pregnant with Jacob.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ Gemma relaxed back in to the plump cushions of the floral couch. ‘I have all the facts and we’ll sort it soon. Once Andrew and Louis have been into hospital and are on the mend, we’ll get moving.’

  ‘How’s Andrew taking it all? How does he feel?’

  ‘He’s fine.’ But Gemma wasn’t sure about anything where Andrew was concerned. Something was bothering him and it felt as though it was more than the worry about Louis, the stress of trying for a family.

  ‘Fine?’ This from Sophia.

  Gemma twirled the stem of her glass of Prosecco between her fingers. ‘I think it’s getting him down more than he’ll let on. Lately he’s shut off and doesn’t seem to want to talk as much.’ Had her marriage become more of a habit than a relationship where they shared everything?

  ‘I’m sure he’s only worried about you.’ Carmen topped up all four glasses, sucking in her breath as the liquid fizzed over the top of Sophia’s glass. Sophia put her lips to the liquid immediately and a hand beneath the stem as Gemma passed her a tissue to dry the vessel.

  ‘Men are different,’ Sophia continued as she balled up the tissue. ‘They keep it all in, try to be strong – at least your man does – but he’ll let you in eventually.’

  When the girls left a couple of hours later, Gemma’s head felt light from the bubbles and the laughter and chatter that always left her somewhat elated. She was thankful to have friends to support her. Andrew was her best friend, of course, but when it felt as though he was hiding something, she needed other people to tell her she was being silly, paranoid even. In the kitchen she ran a sink full of warm water, squirted in the washing-up liquid and let the bubbles foam up before gently lowering the champagne flutes in as a knock sounded at the back door.

  ‘Come in,’ she called, and when Louis shut the door behind him, she placed the champagne flutes on the drainer and pulled off her washing up gloves. ‘What are you doing up at this time of night? I thought you’d be exhausted from this morning’s dialysis.’

  ‘It did take it out of me, but I slept for a few hours this afternoon.’

  Louis didn’t stand, he made straight for the wooden chair closest to him and Gemma brought two glasses of water over to them and sat opposite.

  ‘How’s the nausea?’ she asked.

  ‘Better. It’s almost gone.’

  He definitely didn’t look as peaky as he had on the drive home from the hospital. She’d read magazines while he was getting dialysis. Usually they chatted, laughed about inconsequential things, talked about the bossiest nurse they’d come across so far who Louis joked would put him over her knee if he wasn’t careful. But today, he’d been too tired and had simply shut his eyes.

  Now he looked so much better, although his forehead painted a different picture to the colour in his cheeks. He looked stressed. ‘Did you eat the sandwich I left in your fridge for you?’

  He nodded. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘Have your friends gone?’

  ‘Yes, you’re safe. We weren’t too raucous, I hope?’

  ‘No, no.’ He dismissed her suggestion.

  ‘Do you want me to put the TV on? I think there’s a film tonight, a James Bond.’

  Louis smiled at her. ‘Where’s Andrew?’

  ‘He stayed back at the shop. I don’t think he realised the enormity of the task when he agreed to supply the mini chocolate eggs for the Easter Egg Hunt.’

  Louis laughed. ‘He’ll love every minute of it, I’m sure.’

  ‘You’re not wrong there, he’s about halfway done making them already.’

  ‘It’ll be a great day out for families.’

  Gemma nodded.

  ‘He told me, you know.’

  ‘Told you what?’

  ‘About trying for a family.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘I had no idea what was going on. You should’ve said something.’

  Gemma hesitated. ‘I guess I wanted to wait until I could share good news with you. I didn’t want to moan away. You’re the old man, it should be you moaning.’

  Louis threw back his head and laughed. Gemma always could have a joke with him. He was a lovely man and in many ways like her own dad who she missed more than she thought possible.

  ‘Not so much of the old man, thank you very much. So how are you, really?’

  She shrugged. ‘I’m coping okay, I guess.’

  ‘And I suppose all your friends are pushing babies out like there’s no tomorrow.’

  It was her turn to laugh n
ow. ‘You make them sound like a production line. But yes, they’re all making families, and Andrew and I … well, we’re not. Some days it hurts more than others. You know, we’re looking into IVF. Once the operations are out the way we’ll get moving with it.’

  ‘Sounds like a good idea. Go and get the help you need.’

  ‘You’re desperate to become a grandfather, aren’t you?’

  He smiled at her, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes.

  ‘It’ll happen, eventually,’ she said, finishing her water.

  She and Louis talked some more about the shop, about the new Easter moulds Gemma had ordered in so they could make bunnies, chicks and eggs in a variety of sizes.

  ‘What will you do with the window display?’ asked Louis.

  As soon as Gemma had seen the shop with its curved front window and the chocolate brown window shade jutting out from above, she’d fallen in love with it. She planned to change the window according to the time of year. Of course, given the delicate nature of chocolate and its sensitivity to temperature, she wouldn’t put actual chocolate on display, but instead create something out of their packaging, branded boxes and ribbons. ‘For Easter I’ve bought little yellow chicks – pretend – and I’ve made some papier mâché egg shapes to wrap in shiny paper for the Easter eggs. I’ll put them in a huge straw basket with bows.’

  ‘You sound like you’re having fun with it.’

  ‘I know. Initially it was Andrew’s business and I wasn’t going to be involved, but I love it more than I’d thought. And now the shop is only down the road I can pop in and do those things around my own work schedule.’ She watched Louis, who was smiling. ‘Sorry, I won’t bore you with any more tacky details.’

  ‘I’ll be upset if you don’t.’

  She hesitated and then, ‘At Christmas I’ll have twinkly lights and pretend gift boxes with bows – I’ll do the same for Christmas in July, for all the expats – and around Valentine’s Day the window display will be a red theme with lots of heart shapes. I even thought I might cater for the racing carnival period, around Melbourne Cup Day. I know it’s a quiet time, the lull before Christmas, but you never know.’