When Chocolate Is Not Enough.... Nina Harrington
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‘The food here is terrific, and I took the liberty of ordering your favourite lasagne al forno. One of the few treats that’s hard to find on your tropical paradise.’
‘You know me too well,’ Max replied, and passed her the paper bag that Tara had given him. ‘In that case I trade one lasagne for a bag of chocolate rabbits. Can I add these to the birthday feast next week? I know that you can buy organic chocolates anywhere in London these days, but the stall was run by two pretty girls and the bunnies look almost good enough for our daughter to eat.’
Kate peered into the bag, then stared at him across the table. ‘You? Buying chocolate? Well, this is new. The very thought of a supermarket chocolate bar sends you into a tizzy. They must be good—either that or the girls were particularly pretty. And please don’t growl at me like that.’ She reached out and lifted a curl of hair from his collar. ‘Even with hair that long, some girl might give you a second look.’
Max snorted a dismissive reply. ‘One special lady is more than enough in my life right now. Do you remember that special birthday present she wanted?’
When his ex-wife raised a querying eyebrow, Max patted his rucksack on the floor. ‘I finished carving a pair of jungle parrots last week. They are just like the ones she liked in the photo I sent her. I hope she likes them.’
‘Of course she will. But don’t be too disappointed if she prefers the new games console that Anton has bought her. She’s nearly eight years old, Max. Her life revolves around computer games, schoolwork and her friends. St Lucia is just a place on the map where her dad goes for weeks or months at a time. I’m sorry if that sounds hard, but I don’t want you to think that she is ungrateful,’ Kate said gently.
‘Even more reason why I should take Freya to spend the summer holidays with me on the island. She’s old enough now to watch out for danger, and the other kids on the farm would show her how much fun it can be.’
Kate sat back and sipped her chilled white wine. ‘We’ve been through this before, Max. July and August are your peak harvest times. I know that you’ll do everything you can to keep Freya safe, but you would be too busy to be with her every second of the day, and the island is a dangerous place for a city child.’
‘You’re right,’ Max replied, his arms stretched out across the table. ‘We do cut the cocoa during the summer. But nothing is more important to me than our little girl. And if I do get called out, the ladies on the plantation have been begging me to bring Freya to visit. I could have a swat team of expert grandmothers on standby, ready and willing to step in at a moment’s notice. Serious cossetting and overfeeding would be involved. She’d be totally spoiled!’
‘Well,’ Kate acknowledged, ‘that is one option. But, speaking of the summer holidays, I did ask you here so that we could talk without Freya in the room, because there is something I need to share with you.’
She paused, and Max noticed that a vein in her temple was throbbing in tune with the rate of her breathing. A clear sign that she was anxious about what she was about to say. Interesting.
‘Come on, Kate. What do you want to tell me? Get it over with.’
Her shoulders seemed to relax for a few seconds, and she made eye contact before speaking again. ‘Anton has asked me to marry him, and I have said yes. We’re choosing the ring next week, and I would like to tell Freya on her birthday as a sort of a surprise present. But I wanted you to be the first to know.’
Married!
It was as though someone had tipped an ice bucket of chilled water over his head.
He had always known that this was possible. They were both single now, and she was a lovely woman who enjoyed her social circle in London. But dating a French banker was a lot different from becoming engaged to one.
He was happy for her—happy that she had found someone who loved her and she could love in return—but he had not expected to have to face the reality of that possibility so soon.
It was as though the thin line which still connected them as friends who had become lovers, then friends again, suddenly seemed to stretch thinner and thinner, until it was almost at breaking point.
They had worked hard and talked through the night so many times to keep their friendship alive for the sake of their daughter. Suddenly it felt as though he was losing control.
And there was not one thing that he could do to change it.
She was looking at him now, her upper teeth taking the edge from her perfect lipstick. Expecting some response. He had to say something. Anything.
The air between them positively crackled with tension.
Flicking back his hair, Max dropped his head and laughed out loud.
‘Married? No! Wow—that’s wonderful. Congratulations, Kate. I am happy for you. Anton is a very lucky man. Can I be your manly maid of honour?’
Until that moment he had not even noticed that Kate had been holding her breath, but her gentle giggle told him everything that he needed to know. She had been nervous about telling him. Nervous that she might upset him. Knowing that it would upset him—which was so crazy that it made his head spin. Their marriage had broken up because of his obsession—his failure, his neglect. She deserved a chance at happiness.
‘No. You cannot be my maid of honour, but thank you for your understanding, Max. This is an awkward situation, isn’t it? It’s only been three years since we split up, and here I am getting married again.’
Instantly he stretched out his hand and gave her fingers a quick squeeze, before drawing back and replying with a smile. ‘It’s okay, Kate. Really. I’m genuinely happy for you. The last few years have been tough on you, and I haven’t been around much to help. You deserve to be happy. Anton seems like a steady bloke, and he would be an idiot not to be crazy about you. Good luck to you both.’
He raised his water glass in a toast, just for something to do with his hands, while his head caught up with the implications.
‘So when is the wedding? Are you planning a spectacular event or something small and cosy?’
‘A huge extravaganza, of course! Anton’s family have offered us the use of their château in Provence, and are paying for everything as their wedding gift. You should see the house, Max—it is totally stunning and the perfect setting for a wedding. It’s really going to be magical.’
‘A château?’ He coughed and spluttered. ‘Well, that will be quite a change from your first wedding. That old hall was freezing.’
‘I know!’ She laughed, then ran a hand through her hair nervously. ‘As for the timing …? That is my next piece of news. I know I’m about to suggest something which will probably upset you, because—well, we are planning to have the wedding next spring, and I would like Freya to spend the whole summer with us at the château in France this year.’
Max put down his glass and took a breath, counted to five before answering. ‘I thought we agreed at Christmas that Freya would spend all of the summer holidays with me at the cottage, since you refuse to let me take her to the island? That way you can have some personal time with