The Oddest Little Chocolate Shop in London (12 page)

  
'Bien,
c'est fini.' Monsieur Ravel stopped doing his push-ups and knelt up, glaring at
her, his hands on his hips. His voice was breathless, but perfectly controlled.
‘Do you always behave like this, mademoiselle? If so, I pity mon fils, who
tells me you and he … that you and he are … ’

  
‘An
item?’ she supplied, then grimaced when his eyebrows shot up. ‘Yes, we are an
item. And he’s not going back to France with you. He’s staying here and we’re
going to run the shop together.’

  
So
there, she added defiantly in the safety of her head.

  
Suddenly
Dominic was in the doorway, frowning at the two of them. No doubt it looked
odd, especially with his dad bright red and wearing just his underwear. He
looked from her to his father, who was now wiping his face with a towel, his
chest heaving. ‘Everything okay, Clementine?’

  
‘Absolutely
perfect,’ she agreed brightly, and tossed the phone behind her. It missed the
sofa and fell with a glugging sound into his fish bowl.

  
She
turned, horrified and rooted to the spot.

  
Oops. Sorry, Miranda.

  
Dominic
watched his phone sink past his astonished goldfish, coming to rest on the
gravel bottom of the fish bowl. Then he looked back at her.

  
Their
eyes met. She made an apologetic face, not sure what to expect. The straight
line of his mouth twitched, then Dominic gave a bark of laughter.

  
‘Clementine,
you’re impossible!’

  
‘I’m
afraid so,’ she agreed sheepishly, and hung her head. ‘I can’t seem to help it.
I mean well but then everything goes wrong. I’m sorry.’

  
‘I
love it,’ Dominic said huskily, and came forward to take her hands. ‘In fact,
je t’aime, Clementine. Je t’aime.’

  
‘Mon
Dieu!’ his father exclaimed, sounding disgusted.

  
‘I
know this is sudden, and perhaps a little unexpected after the cautious way
I’ve been going about this, but I’d like you to move in here, Clementine, and
help me run the shop, and be my partner.’ Dominic ignored his father’s muttered
comment in French, looking back at her intently. ‘My partner in every way.’

  
His
father stamped out of the room at that point, growling something in French
about taking une douche. Or maybe that Dominic was a total douche, Clementine
was not sure and, frankly, no longer cared.

  
‘But
... we barely know each other!’

  
He
leant forward and kissed her throat, then whispered in her ear, ‘I would not
say that. Not after last night. We are already lovers. Now let us become partners
too. Or whatever you want. Say oui and it’s done. Just don't walk away,
Clementine. Not now, I could not bear it.' He closed his eyes briefly, frowning
as though tortured by his memories. 'I have lost other chances in the past to
be happy, tu vois. I was so busy trying to be a success that I failed to see
when I was the luckiest man alive.'

  
‘Yes,
yes! I mean, oui, oui!’ She giggled at how that came out. ‘Oops, that didn’t
sound right. I meant to say … ’ Clementine stared at him blankly, an important memory
suddenly returning to the front of her mind. ‘Oh god, I completely forgot about
Misty!’

  
His
brows contracted sharply at this apparent non-sequitur, his French accent
puzzled as he repeated, ‘Meesty?’

  
She
nodded urgently. ‘Is the old lady still downstairs?’

  
‘Oui,
je crois.’

  
‘Thank
goodness. I'm such a noodle.’

  
She
dropped his hands and ran to the windowsill, lifting the blind. Sure enough,
the cat was sleeping there, comfortable in the heat of the sun.

  
The
gorgeous white Persian cat lifted her head and mewed, looking almost as puzzled
as Dominic at this abrupt intrusion on her snooze time.

  
‘Come
on, Misty,’ she said happily, scooping up the soft, warm body and cradling the
cat in her arms. ‘Sorry to interrupt your sunbathing, but your mummy’s
downstairs … and she’s been looking for you everywhere!’

Downstairs in the shop, the old lady was
just hobbling towards the door with her box of chocolates.

  
‘Oh
wait, please!’ Clementine called, and the old lady turned, frowning and weary,
a bemused look on her face which turned to rapturous delight when she saw the
cat in Clementine’s arms.

  
‘Misty!’

  
‘This
is your cat, isn’t it?’ Clementine asked, just to be sure.

  
It
would not be the first time she had made a hideous mistake, after all!

  
But
the old lady was nodding.

  
‘Yes,
yes, that’s my Ernie’s cat, Misty. She ran off the day after he died … My
granddaughter left the back door open and she escaped. She’s a house cat, she
almost never leaves the place.’

  
Carefully,
Clementine put the cat in her arms. ‘I’ll help you take her home if you like.
Dominic bought a cat box to take her to the vet, I think it’s upstairs.’

  
‘If
you don’t mind …’

  
Dominic
had come down and was standing behind her, listening, a smile on his face as he
realised what was happening. ‘So Misty is your cat, madame? But how
merveilleux. Yes, of course Clementine can be spared to help you carry her
home. Take as long as you like.’

  
‘Thank
you so much,' the lady murmured, looking from one to the other. 'You are both
very kind.’

  
Happy
to be the centre of attention, the white cat miaowed plaintively, then lifted
its chin to be tickled.

  
They
all laughed.

  
‘But
I don’t understand,’ the old lady said, smiling broadly as the cat nuzzled
against her chest, ‘where was Misty? I had almost given up hope of finding her
again. I’ve just had these posters made, offering a reward for her safe return.
But you hear about these cat thieves, don’t you? And she is very beautiful.’
She bit her lip. ‘You should have the reward!’

  
Clementine
shook her head, grinning. ‘No, please … I don’t want a reward. I’m just glad
I’ve finally found her owner.’

  
‘If
you’re sure?’

  
‘Positive.’
Clementine stroked the Persian’s sensitive fluffy white chin, and received a
pleased purring in return. ‘She’s so gorgeous. I’ll grab that cat box, then you
can show me where you live, Mrs … ?’

  
‘Doreen,’
the lady said, a little damp-eyed, cuddling her cat tightly as though afraid of
losing her again. ‘Please call me Doreen. I can’t thank you enough. Misty was
all I had left of Ernie, and when I realised she was gone too … Well, you’ve
made me so happy today. First the chocolates, and now Misty’s come back to me.’
She gave a little sob. ‘I think you must be an angel in disguise, young lady.’

  
‘Absolument,
madame.’ Dominic put his arm about Clementine’s waist and kissed her lightly on
the cheek. ‘She is mon ange.’

  
Feeling
like a fraud, Clementine shook her head fervently. 'I'm no angel, that's for
certain. More like a devil with benefits. Come on, let's get you two safely
home.'

Doreen kept her behind for hours with cups
of tea and slices of home-made fruit cake, showing her photographs of her late
husband Ernie, including shots of him and Misty where it was clear how much the
elderly gentleman had adored the cat. Clementine enjoyed the afternoon, finding
it so touching to think of the couple spending their whole lives together.

  
Could
it ever be like that for her and Dominic? Or was she just being hopelessly
idealistic?

  
Looking
at it coldly, they knew very little about each other. Spending one night
together, however wonderful it had been, was no substitute for a long
relationship. And it might well turn out that she was not compatible with
Dominic Ravel. After all, in just one twenty-four hour period she had somehow
made an enemy of his cousin, tried to call an ambulance for his perfectly
healthy dad, then drowned his state-of-the-art telephone and possibly poisoned
his goldfish at the same time.

  
One
day he might stop finding mistakes like that funny …

  
By
the time Clementine wandered back to the chocolate shop, it was later than she
had realised and Rachel was just closing up for the afternoon.

  
She
was shocked to see Rachel smiling, then saw the young man behind her, a large
bunch of flowers in his hand. They smelt gorgeous.

  
‘Oh,’
Clementine said, a little uncertain of how to react, ‘is this … ’
  

  
The
young man held out his hand and shook hers. ‘Dylan,’ he offered, grinning. ‘You
don’t mind if I tear Rachel away a bit early, do you? I’ve booked us a meal
tonight at Les Six Escargots.’

  
Clementine’s
eyes widened. ‘Wow, that’s a really posh place.’ Suddenly she caught Rachel’s
eye, and smiled at the blush on her face. ‘I’m sure it will be fine for her to
leave early. Here, I’ll finish locking up. Have a lovely meal! And, erm, let me
know what … what it’s like at Les Six Escargots.’

  
She
nudged Rachel as the couple squeezed past, their arms wrapped about each other,
then she locked up the shop and went in search of Dominic.

  
‘Dom?’

  
The
rest of the shop was already in darkness. She hesitated, listening. No sound
from upstairs. Had Monsieur Ravel Senior gone back to France? But if so, where
was Dominic?

  
Her
heart contracted in fear. She had been gone for hours. Anything could have
happened. Had Dom gone back to France with his father, after all? Perhaps
Rachel had been so busy with the reconciliation with her boyfriend that she had
forgotten to mention it.

  
No,
that was silly. He would not just leave the country like that. Not without a single
word.

  
She
jumped in fright when someone came up silently behind her and grabbed her by
the waist.

  
‘Oh
my god!’ She spun, then found herself looking up into Dom’s dark face. Her
heart leapt with joy, then her cheeks flooded with heat. ‘I nearly had a heart
attack, you maniac!’

  
‘Mmm,
I see.’ He was staring directly into her eyes, his hands stroking gently down
her back. ‘Yes, you do look a little … out of breath. Should I call an
ambulance, perhaps?’

  
He
was mocking her! ‘Hey, that thing with your father and the ambulance was an honest
mistake.’

  
‘Oui.’
He grinned then, not hiding his amusement. ‘Et fort amusant.’

  
‘For
you, maybe. I don’t think your dad will ever speak to me again though. But how
was I to know he was doing his exercises? He was puffing like a steam train. I
thought he was dying!’

  
‘Well,
you won’t need to worry about him anymore.’

  
‘No?’

  
He
shook his head, growing serious at last. ‘He’s gone back to France.’

  
‘Oh
dear.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’m so sorry you’ve quarreled like this. And it does
feel like my fault. Is your dad going to cut you out of his will like he
threatened?’

  
‘No.’

  
She
stared, her mouth open. ‘No?’

  
Dominic
shrugged. ‘My father said, on reflection, that he could see why I might want to
stay in London. So he gave me his blessing.’

  
‘For
what?’

  
He
kissed her on the mouth. ‘For the shop,’ Dominic murmured, then kissed her
again. ‘And you.’

  
She
felt dazed. And excited. ‘M … me?’

  
‘Absolument,
mon ange.’

  
‘Oh.’

  
‘If
you’ll have me, that is.' His voice grew unsteady. 'You never did give me a
final answer, after all.’

  
‘I
didn’t?’

  
He
stroked her hair, watching her closely. ‘I don’t want to scare you off,
Clementine, or push you into anything you’re not happy about. But is it too
soon to be talking about marriage?’

  
Now
she felt faint. ‘Holy … ’

  
Dominic
put a long finger on her lips. ‘Not the crap, s’il-te-plaît,’ he said drily. ‘Not
for this. Though I don’t mind the holy.’