Christmas Wishes at the Chocolate Shop Read online

  Christmas Wishes At The Chocolate Shop

  A Tale of Two Christmases

  Jessica Redland

  For my grandparents, Louisa Jane and Ted Williams,

  Jack and Polly Wiseman. No longer here in person,

  but forever here in spirit xx

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  One year later

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Acknowledgments

  More from Jessica Redland

  About the Author

  Also by Jessica Redland

  About Boldwood Books

  1

  ‘Goodbye, Nanna,’ I whispered, turning in a circle and scattering her ashes across the sand dunes. ‘You’re with your wildlife now. And Grandpa.’

  Spurn Point Nature Reserve – a three-mile-long peninsula curving between the North Sea and Humber Estuary – had been my grandparents’ favourite place and it wasn’t hard to see why. On a sunny August day like today, when the bluey-green sea was calm, I felt like I was on an island in the middle of nowhere rather than twenty-five miles east of Hull.

  I watched the dust settle among the sand and grasses, exactly as Nanna had wanted. A tear slipped down my cheek and I quickly swiped at it because that’s exactly what Nanna hadn’t wanted. I could imagine her whispering in my ear, ‘Come on now, Charlee, lovey, turn the tap off. Crying won’t bring me back.’ I couldn’t help it, though. I missed them both so much. After my mother, Stacey, abandoned me the day I was born, my grandparents had brought me up so losing Grandpa five years ago and Nanna in May had felt like a double impact each time: grandparent and parent rolled into one.

  Sitting down on a nearby sand dune, I closed my eyes and let the mid-afternoon sun kiss my face. Such a beautiful day. Nanna would have loved it. If cancer hadn’t taken her, she’d have been sitting beside me enthusiastically identifying the birds and wildflowers. But she wasn’t here and never would be again.

  At the start of April, the doctors had given her a week, two at the most. I knew that she was desperate to celebrate my thirtieth birthday on 1st May. I also knew that she was tired, in pain, and ready to be reunited with Grandpa. Holding her frail hand in the hospice as she drifted in and out of consciousness, I whispered that it was okay to leave but, somehow, she hung in there and made it through my milestone birthday – just – dying at 1.08 a.m. on 2nd May with me by her side.

  I don’t think I’ve ever known another couple quite as devoted as my grandparents. All my memories of them together were happy: giggling as they prepared a meal, holding hands everywhere they went, slow dancing in the lounge when they thought I’d gone to bed. Nanna had quite literally fallen for the boy next door. Grandpa had moved in when he was ten and had invited her to help him build a den in the woods. They’d been inseparable for the next seventy-two years until a fatal heart attack stole him from us. A true gent to the core, he’d been adored by everyone who met him, but he only had eyes for Nanna. It was my forever wish to be fortunate enough to find a love like theirs. Perhaps I’d already found it with Ricky. After nearly six months together, I knew I was smitten and couldn’t imagine my life without him, but I was aware it was still early days. A terminally ill grandparent hadn’t exactly provided the backdrop for a happy, carefree start to our relationship although him not ditching me in favour of someone with less emotional baggage suggested he might feel the same way about me.

  ‘Charlee!’

  I snapped open my eyes and looked in the direction of the shout, shielding my eyes against the bright sun. ‘Ricky?’

  He ran across the sand, waving.

  ‘I thought you couldn’t make it.’ Heart racing, I picked up my bag and the urn and ran down the sand dune into his embrace.

  ‘Biffo’s finishing up. It’s about time he pulled his weight, lazy git. I didn’t want you to have to do this on your own. I’m not too late, am I?’

  I pulled away and held up the empty urn.

  He grimaced. ‘Sorry. How was it?’

  ‘A bit emotional, but…’ My voice cracked and tears welled in my eyes.

  Ricky put his arms round me again and pulled me close as I sobbed against his chest. At six feet tall with strong muscles from his work as a joiner and labourer, his hugs were powerful and comforting. I always felt like I could face anything after a Ricky hug.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said when I’d calmed down. ‘Since we met, all I seem to have done is cry on you.’

  I’d met Ricky in late February while out celebrating my best friend Jodie’s thirtieth birthday. He’d been on a stag do pub crawl in Hull city centre, but the pubs hadn’t been welcoming of a large all-male group, so the men offered our small group a couple of free rounds if we accompanied them and made the group mixed. I was attracted to Ricky instantly. With his dark blond hair in a buzz cut style, twinkly blue eyes and high cheekbones, he reminded me of Brad Pitt in his younger days. When Ricky took my number at the end of the evening, I genuinely hadn’t expected to hear from him, but he rang a couple of days later and took me out for a meal the following night.

  The first five weeks together were fantastic. Ricky was interesting, fun and attentive and I could easily see myself falling for him but suddenly I had something different to focus on. Nanna was admitted to hospital then moved to the hospice after her devastating prognosis.

  ‘What sort of boyfriend would I be if I ran off when things got tricky? Come here, you.’ He wiped my tears then cupped my face in his hands, his eyes fixed on mine for a moment before tenderly kissing me. His hands moved into my hair as the kiss deepened, making my heart race again. I moaned softly as his hands shifted to down my back and then up inside my T-shirt, gently grazing the sides of my breasts. A momentary fizz of excitement gave way to annoyance and I stepped away, frowning. Had he just tried to feel me up, today of all days?

  ‘Come on, Charlee,’ he said, his voice husky and full of longing. ‘There’s nobody around. You know I can’t resist you.’ He moved in for another kiss, but I took a further step away.

  ‘I know and I’m really flattered, but it’s not really the time or place, is it?’ I held up Nanna’s urn to illustrate my point, but it was hard to keep my tone light and not add: ‘Show some respect.’

  He nodded. ‘Sorry. I should have thought. Forgive me?’

  I relaxed my shoulders, unable to resist those puppy-dog eyes. ‘It’s okay. I’m just a bit emotional today.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘A bit more emotional than usual, that is.’ I took his hand in mine. ‘Thanks for being so patient with me. I know I’ve not exactly been the dream girlfriend, crying all the time and squirming at the thought of having sex in my grandparents’ house, but I’ll make it up to you.’

  I had a serious amount of making up to do. We had slept together, but it hadn’t been a regular thing. To save money to pay off hi
s credit card debts, Ricky had been sleeping rent-free on his workmate Biffo’s sofa so staying over at his wasn’t an option. Before Nanna took a turn for the worse, he’d slept over at ours a couple of times. She’d insisted on him sleeping in my room saying she wasn’t completely naïve about modern-day relationships but I’d far rather she’d banished him to the third bedroom. The thought of having sex while Nanna slept – or tried to sleep – in the room next door made me shudder. After Nanna died, I assumed the discomfort would go but it hadn’t so far. My strategy was either avoiding intimacy altogether or lying back, crossing my fingers, and faking it. I wasn’t proud of myself.

  ‘Tonight?’ Ricky asked, sounding hopeful.

  ‘We’ll see.’ I put the urn in my bag, thankful I could turn away in case my expression gave away how I really felt about the prospect.

  Hand in hand, we ambled towards Spurn Point, the tip of the sand spit.

  ‘Biffo asked when you want to do the big refurb. He’s been asked to plaster his brother’s house and he doesn’t want to book that in if you need us to gut your place first.’

  I sighed. Making the decision to refurbish my grandparents’ home had caused me several sleepless nights. It desperately needed bringing into the 21st century, but I felt guilty about changing all the things that Nanna and Grandpa had chosen. They’d loved that house and it was so them. It wasn’t me, though.

  ‘I’m still not sure what to do. Mr Winters called round again last night. He’s desperate to buy it for his daughter. I’m wondering whether I should sell it to him and buy somewhere that’s more me.’

  ‘Sell it? Since when? When I suggested it, you were adamant you weren’t going to move.’ He sounded a little put-out, and I could understand that. I had been adamant at the time but my neighbour, Mr Winters, had made a good point: if I was planning to refurbish it, it wouldn’t look like my grandparents’ home anymore so was selling up and moving to a new home that much different?

  ‘I know and I was determined to stay at the time but I’m having doubts. The house needs a lot of work and I don’t know if I can bring myself to have it gutted. It might be easier and less painful to cut the ties completely, sell up, and buy somewhere new with the proceeds.’

  We continued in silence for several minutes before Ricky spoke. ‘I think you should sell and my logic for that is that you’re not comfortable there. Even when your Nanna was alive, you always acted as though you were a lodger. I thought you’d be different after she died, but nothing’s changed. You’re still tense.’ He looked at me pointedly. Did he know that I’d been faking? ‘I think you need a fresh start.’

  Reaching the Point, we sat down on the beach facing each other. I scooped up some warm sand and let it trickle through my fingers as I took in the stunning view. To my left was the sea, twinkling deep blue and turquoise in the sunshine. To my right I could see back along the peninsula to the low lighthouse on the beach and the high black and white striped lighthouse in the grassy dunes. I could hear birds and insects and smell salt in the air.

  ‘Have I upset you by saying that?’ Ricky asked, raking his hands back and forth through the sand.

  I shook my head. ‘No. It’s just a lot to think about. You’re right, though. It doesn’t feel like my home anymore.’

  Growing up it had felt every bit my home, but I’d moved out when I was twenty to share a flat with Jodie. I’d always known that living with my best friend wouldn’t be a forever arrangement. Sure enough, after four amazing years together, it was time for her to move in with her long-term boyfriend, Karl. Unable to find another affordable flat within a short commute to work, I moved back in with my grandparents. It was only meant to be temporary but, within a year, Grandpa died, and Nanna seemed to age a decade overnight. She kept telling me that there was no rush to move out and I knew her well enough to realise that was her way of asking me to stay. So I did, but I felt like the lodger. It wasn’t anything she said or did. It was all completely in my head, but I knew I wasn’t settled.

  ‘So, what are you going to do?’ Ricky asked.

  ‘Sell to Mr Winters. I think. Should I?’

  He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the sea then turned to face me.

  ‘Yes, because it would be quick and easy, but only if he gives you a good price. I’d get a few estate agents in to value it first because houses like that are in demand, even when they need work. But only if selling is what you really want. It’s your decision.’ He brushed the sand off his hands then took my hand in his and fixed his eyes on mine. ‘Sell or stay, I’ll still love you.’

  My eyes widened. He loved me? He’d never said that before. I studied his earnest expression and kicked myself. I was being silly. It was just a turn of phrase. It didn’t mean he actually loved me, did it?

  Ricky ran his thumb over my hand. ‘Did you hear what I just said, Charlee?’ His voice was gentle, and he looked a little uncertain of himself which was adorable.

  My heart raced. ‘Yes, I did, but I wasn’t sure if…’

  He smiled as I tailed off. ‘I did mean it. I love you, Charlee. I’m sorry I haven’t said it sooner but there never seemed a right moment. I’m not sure this is it, either, but it kind of slipped out.’

  I knew I adored him but, at that moment, I realised it was more than that. I’d fallen in love for the very first time. He’d been my rock for the past six months and I wanted him in my life forever. ‘I love you too, Ricky.’

  He leaned forward and tenderly kissed me and, this time, he didn’t push for more. We lay back on the sand, hands clasped, staring up at the sky. The wispiest of clouds – like tiny sections of aeroplane trails – were the only break in the bright cornflower blue. I thought about what Ricky and I had just said to each other and the patience and understanding he’d shown me, and an idea took hold. I wasn’t an impulsive person but occasionally an idea presented itself out of the blue that felt so right that I had to act on it immediately. It was a big step and one I’d never come close to taking before.

  Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I tried to find the best way to say it. I drew strength from Ricky’s hand squeezing mine and rolled onto my side. ‘I have something to ask you.’

  Ricky adjusted his position to face me. ‘Ask away.’

  ‘It may only be for a short while given the conversation we’ve just had about me selling up, but I was wondering…’ I paused, trying to get control of my nerves so that my voice wouldn’t wobble. ‘I was wondering if you’d like to move in with me?’

  His eyes lit up. ‘You mean that?’

  ‘It’s got to be better than sleeping on Biffo’s sofa, surrounded by empty lager cans and his dirty undies. It’ll still be rent-free, of course.’

  Ricky laughed. ‘If I say yes, you know that it won’t be for those reasons, don’t you? It’ll be because I want to be with you.’

  I nodded.

  ‘In that case, it’s a yes. When?’

  ‘Now?’

  He grinned then hugged me tightly. ‘Thank you so much. Should we go and get my stuff right away and then go somewhere to celebrate?’

  The butterflies fluttered in my stomach for a different reason now and my cheeks coloured as I said, ‘How about we go home to celebrate first, then we get your stuff?’

  Ricky stood up and reached out a hand to help me to my feet. ‘Well, when you put it like that…’

  As our naked bodies entwined on the lounge rug an hour later, I had to keep telling myself to relax and enjoy the moment. I knew I was sexually compatible with Ricky because we’d been away for his birthday and it had been fantastic, but I simply couldn’t relax in my grandparents’ home. I wasn’t sure whether it was because it felt disrespectful or whether I half-expected one of them to walk in on us. Ricky’s fingers and his tongue worked with expert precision, yet I had to fake it again.

  We lay on our sides, facing each other. He gently ran his hand down the curve of my body. ‘Am I doing something wrong?’

  I gulped. ‘No! Of course n
ot! Why do you ask?’

  ‘Charlee! You know you’re like an open book.’

  Busted! He did know. ‘It’s not you. It’s just …’

  ‘It’s just this place, isn’t it? As I said earlier, you’re not comfortable here, and I don’t think that’s going to change.’

  I wrinkled my nose. ‘Sorry. I know. I can’t live like this, can I? I’ll call some estate agents in the morning.’

  ‘I think you should, but only if you’re sure.’

  ‘I’m sure. I need to be in my own home, not my grandparents’. Or rather, we need to be in our own home…’

  2

  ‘Hi, gorgeous, I’m back.’ Ricky poked his head round the lounge door a couple of evenings later and his smile slipped. ‘I didn’t know we were expecting visitors.’

  ‘It’s okay. I was leaving.’ Mr Winters took the last glug of tea, put his mug down on a crocheted doily on the occasional table beside him, and stood up. ‘I’ll be in touch again as soon as I’ve briefed my solicitor. Pleasure doing business with you.’ He shook my hand, smiling.

  ‘And you, Mr Winters.’

  ‘Stop it, Charlee!’ He pretended to look stern then broke into a grin. ‘It’s Neil. Mr Winters makes me sound like a teacher.’

  I laughed as I realised how ridiculous it was calling him by his title considering he was only about five years older than me. ‘Sorry, Neil. Nanna referred to all the neighbours as Mr or Mrs – even her best friends – and it’s a habit now. I’ll see you out.’