Chapter Thirty
Mum's voice was anxious. "I'm ever so sorry to bother you, Christopher, really I am, but it's our Marley. No, no, she's not in London anymore. She turned up back here, out of the blue, last night. I know! Caught the last train back to York and drove home in all this snow. Madness. Well, that's my point, really. She's not herself, not at all, and I was hoping you'd come here and speak to her. No, really, she keeps talking about you. I think she's having some sort of meltdown, and I don't know what else to do. Will you come? I mean, I know it's Christmas Day and everything, but—you will? Oh, you are a good lad. Thank you so much. See you soon."
She put the receiver down and turned to me, looking quite annoyed. "That poor lad. He sounded distraught. You are cruel, Marley."
"Oh, give over, Katie," Don said, hooking his arm around her. "This is dead romantic, this. Besides, what are you looking so miserable about? You've got what you wanted—all your family together for Christmas Day, and a bonus guest to boot."
"Oh, heck," she wailed. "I'll have to give him some dinner, won't I? I hope it will stretch."
"If not," Don said, winking at me, "you can give him some of mine. I'm willing to make that sacrifice."
Luckily, she didn't seem to notice his amusement. She was far too busy rummaging around in the freezer and totting up portion sizes.
Don and I left her to it and headed back into the living room, where chaos had descended with the arrival of Olivia, David, and the boys. The floor was strewn with torn wrapping paper, and Don and I had to gingerly step over piles of games and toys, terrified of breaking anything. Tommy waved his new xylophone at me, before bringing it crashing down onto the carpet, while Sam and Max sat happily playing with their Power Ranger action figures, their faces smeared with chocolate from their selection boxes.
"Bit early for sweets, isn't it?" I said, nodding at the empty wrappers on the floor. "We haven't even had dinner, yet."
Olivia rolled her eyes. "You try stopping them on Christmas morning. It's part of the fun, anyway. Rules go out of the window today."
"Besides," Don pointed out, "having seen what's in store for us for Christmas dinner, I'd advise them to fill up on Milky Ways while they can."
David laughed. "Let me guess. Frozen turkey, frozen Yorkshire puddings, frozen stuffing balls, frozen vegetables, frozen mashed potatoes, and gravy made from granules and boiling water."
"Be fair," Olivia said. "She's using the water from the veg since it's a special occasion, rather than just boiling the kettle."
"Bless her," Don said, shaking his head. "I wish she'd let me cook the dinner, but she was adamant that she was going to treat us all. Treat us all! Reckon we'll be looking for a takeaway that's open later tonight."
"Don't be mean," I said. "To be honest, I hardly notice her cooking these days. It's become normal. Besides, you're going to have get used to it, now that you're making an honest woman of her."
He beamed at me. "And you don't mind? About me and your mum getting married, I mean."
Olivia and I looked at each other in amusement. "Why on earth would we mind? It's the best news ever. We're so happy for you both." I meant every word. I'd finally let Dad go, and his shadow no longer hung over me. We were a family without him. We didn't need him, and Mum deserved someone as wonderful as Don.
"And that engagement ring you gave her was beautiful," Olivia said. "You have very good taste. Unlike David here," she added sternly. "A slow cooker! I mean, I ask you. And after I treated him to that X Box, too."
David looked sheepish. I wondered how Olivia would have reacted if he'd bought her the same present that Kit had bought me. I'd finally opened it that morning, tearing open the envelope in eager anticipation, to discover a certificate and card, thanking me for my generosity and informing me that a borehole, which would bring clean water to an entire village, had been gifted on my behalf, and wishing me a very merry Christmas.
I'd stared at the message in disbelief for a moment, then a smile had spread across my face. If that wasn't typical Kit, I didn't know what was. I wondered what he'd made of his Rochester's tie and almost giggled at the thought. What had I been thinking? As if he'd care about that!
Olivia looked across at me, her eyes shining. "What are you grinning at?"
I shook my head. "Just thinking about stuff."
"About Kit, you mean." She rubbed Sam's chocolate smeared hands with a baby wipe and tossed it in the bin, then put her arms around me. "I can't believe you came home from that swanky hotel in London for all this." She waved a hand across the messy living room in disbelief. "You must really have it bad."
I glanced across at Don, and he gave me a sympathetic smile. Arriving at Mum's last night, I'd sat them both down and told them the truth about the factory, and about everything that had been going on between Kit and myself. I hadn't mentioned the baby, though. I knew it would hurt Mum that I hadn't told her at the time, and she would only be upset that I'd gone through all that alone—not to mention the fact that she'd lost a grandchild without even knowing about it. I couldn't put all that on her. I'd made them promise not to tell Olivia and David, or anyone else for that matter, about the true state of affairs.
Don hadn't seemed too surprised, to be honest. "Thought it were something like that," he’d confessed. "Kit Carroll's far too smart to do something as daft as throw away a lucrative contract for no good reason, especially when he had nothing to take its place. I guessed he'd had no choice in the matter. Been worrying meself sick about it, to be honest, and I'm not the only one. There have been mutterings. I appreciate that he was trying to save us the stress over Christmas, but we're not daft. Well, some of us aren't, any road."
"What happens now?" Mum said, sounding anxious.
"Ah," I'd replied. "Now, that's where you come in."
"Marley," Mum had entered the living room, and was peering anxiously out of the window, "does this chap of yours drive a black car?"
"That narrows it down, love," Don said, grinning. He stood up and, dodging the boys' assorted presents, made his way over to stand beside her. "That's him, all right." He turned to me and gave me a thumbs-up sign. "Action stations, Marley. You're on."
***
Kit's mouth felt dry and his heart thumped, as he knocked on the front door of Marley's mother's house. What was he about to walk into? A meltdown, Mrs Jacobs had said. What sort of meltdown? How bad was it? Was it his fault? Had he pushed her too far, made her remember things that were so painful, she should have been allowed to forget them?
He wondered how she'd coped with the grief all those years. He'd only had a few days to process the fact that he'd almost become a father. It felt raw to him. He couldn't imagine how she'd got through it all, and the fact that she'd had to go through it without him filled him with shame. How could she ever forgive him?
He almost stopped breathing when the door opened, then his eyes widened in shock at Marley standing on the other side. She looked fine. Hell, she looked more than fine, she looked beautiful.
Kit's eyes scanned her in appreciation, then he remembered the phone call and felt ashamed all over again. "Are you all right? Your mum said—"
She laughed and took hold of his arm, pulling him inside the hallway. "It's freezing out there. Look, you're covered in snow already." She brushed the flakes of snow from his shoulders and touched his damp hair, very briefly. "Come in and get warm."
Bewildered, he allowed himself to be half dragged into the living room, where a scene of devastation met his eyes. The room was how he imagined Santa's grotto would look if he employed hyperactive elves. To his astonished eyes, it was all tinsel, glitter, wrapping paper and scattered toys. In one corner of the room, the television blasted out some Christmas cartoon, although no one seemed to be paying any attention to it. David sat on a chair, peeling a satsuma, and seemed oblivious to the chaos. Olivia busily scrubbed a little boy's face with baby wipes. Two other little boys were dressed in Batman costumes and were wrestling, with alarming ferocity, on the carpet. Someone had trodden chocolate into the rug—at least, he hoped it was chocolate. Don—wearing a grey cardigan, navy blue slippers, and a green paper hat from a cracker—looked far older than someone in his late thirties, but was beaming as if he'd won the lottery, and Marley's mum was busy asking anyone and everyone if they fancied a glass of snowball, apparently unwilling to take no for an answer, as if refusing a snowball on Christmas Day was illegal.
"Merry Christmas, Kit," Don said, standing up to shake his hand. "Would you like a beer? Or do you fancy a hot drink to defrost you before dinner?" He leaned forward and whispered, "Trust me, when you've tasted Katie's cooking, you'll wish you'd chosen alcohol."
"Tasted ..." Kit blinked, not knowing what to think. "I don't understand. I thought you said Marley was ill," he said to Mrs Jacobs.
She had the grace to blush. "Now, be fair, Christopher. We couldn't leave you sitting in that big empty house all alone, now, could we? Not on Christmas Day."
"And if I'd just invited you, you would never have come," Marley added. "You'd have made some excuse, and I couldn't risk that."
He shook his head, as the reality of the situation finally sank in. "There's nothing wrong with you? You concocted the whole story, just to get me over for dinner?"
She smiled softly. "Not just for dinner, no. I have something to ask you."
Olivia clapped her hands together. "Right, boys. How about we build that snowman now?"
There were shrieks of delight from all three children, followed by a general rush to find boots, hats, gloves, coats and scarves. David looked quite disgruntled. "Do we have to? It's cold out there."
"That's the point," Olivia said brutally. "Shift your bum off that chair, and come and have some fun with your sons."
Sighing, David heaved himself out of the chair and dropped his satsuma peel in the bin. "You coming to help?" he asked Don.
"Fat chance," Don replied. "I'm going to be in the kitchen, helping Katie defrost the food. Them Christmas dinners won't microwave themselves, you know."
Mrs Jacobs blushed and slapped him on the arm, and together they hurried into the kitchen. Olivia herded David and the children into the garden, the door closed behind them, and silence fell upon the living room.
"It may look like a battlefield," Marley said cheerfully, "but at least we can hear ourselves think now. Sit down, Kit."
Kit dropped into a chair, feeling dazed. He'd been sitting alone in that gloomy old house less than an hour ago. It had been so quiet, he could hear the clock ticking, and he'd fully expected to spend the entire day on his own, watching the odd programme and trying not to dwell on the appalling mess he'd made of his life.
From that, he’d gone to standing in a cosy, untidy home, about to be served what promised to be a most interesting meal, and surrounded by a noisy, loving family. And he was with Marley. He could hardly believe it.
"I thought you were in London," he said. "What made you come home?"
She sat down on the sofa, curling her feet beneath her. He watched as she twisted a strand of her glossy chestnut hair between her fingers, just as he'd done that Sunday morning while lying in her bed, holding her close. It seemed like a million years ago. "London was fabulous," she said. "A bit scary, but fabulous. I had a brilliant time. I finally got a Jenny Kingston handbag from Rochester's on Oxford Street. I'm so thrilled with it. I've promised myself one of those bags for years."
"Great." He had no idea what a Jenny Kingston bag was, but clearly it meant a lot to her.
"Thanks for the borehole, by the way," she said.
His eyes narrowed, as he scanned her face for annoyance, but she was still smiling, and her eyes were twinkling. "Thanks for the tie," he replied.
She looked at him, and suddenly they were both laughing.
"I guess," he admitted, "a borehole wasn't top of your Christmas wish list."
"It never even occurred to me," she said. "Still, I looked it up on the charity's website, and I was pretty impressed. It gave me a surprisingly warm glow to know that a whole village will now have clean water because of us. It's a great present. Better than a tie, anyway. I can't imagine what I was thinking."
"Maybe you were thinking that your ideal man would be a smart businessman who wore designer ties," he said ruefully.
She shook her head. "I actually bought it for David. I only gave it to you because I didn't have anything else."
He laughed. "Charming. Although, in a strange way, that makes me feel better."
"Do you want a drink?" she asked him. "Don offered, but then drifted away."
"In a minute, maybe." His hands twisted in his lap, unsure what was going on. "What's this really about, Marley?"
"Okay. Cards on the table." She leaned forward, face suddenly serious, and Kit felt his guts twist with nerves. "I have a proposition for you."
"Oh? What sort of proposition?"
"The sort of proposition that may just be the answer to all your problems."
He sincerely doubted that, but he smiled, anyway. "That would be good."
"Wouldn't it? I'm not joking, Kit. I want to invest in the factory."
Kit's face dropped. "What?"
"I said—"
"I heard you. What do you mean? What are you talking about?"
She sighed patiently. "You know Great Uncle Charles left me most of his money? Well, I want to put it into the factory. You need a cash injection. I have the cash. What do you say?"
His mind raced. Was she serious? "But why? Why would you do that?"
"Because I believe in Carroll's. Because I believe in you."
She unfurled herself from the sofa and walked towards him, crouching down at his side. She held up her mobile, and he peered at the screen, confused.
"What's that?"
"Online banking app. See that figure at the top? That's what I now have sitting in the bank, and I'd like to put it all into the factory."
"Bloody hell!" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Marley. I can't let you do that. That money's for you. It's what you've wanted for so long."
"Yes, that's true enough. And you know what, I had a taste of the high life this week. I stayed in the swankiest hotel in London—well, one of them. I had a fabulous time, completely guilt free, and I treated myself to my handbag and afternoon tea, and some new boots, and even a facial and massage. It was brilliant. But I don't want to waste the rest of it on that. The fact is, my family depends on Carroll's. I felt so guilty that Mum and Olivia got so little in the will. It didn't seem fair. This way, I get to help them. I get to help everyone who works there. The factory needs money, and I've got it. Let me do this."
"I can't. It's too risky. I won't let you invest all that capital, when there are no guarantees that you'll get it back."
He broke off as his mobile began to ring in his pocket. He tried to ignore it, but she stood up. "Take that," she said. "It might be Jack. You'll want to talk to him, today of all days."
Giving her an apologetic look, he took the phone out and glanced at the screen, then went pale. "It's Ethan Rochester."
"Oh, my God!" Her face lit up with excitement. "Answer it, quickly."
Hands shaking, Kit tapped the screen, and said, quite nervously, "Hello, Kit Carroll speaking."
Marley's eyes bored into him, as he listened intently to what Ethan was telling him. At first, he couldn't grasp what was being said, and with everything that Marley had just landed on him, it all seemed very jumbled in his mind. Then the fog lifted and he gasped. "What did you say?"
Ethan laughed. "Do you think you can handle it?"
Kit stared at Marley, who was practically hopping up and down with impatience. "Yes. Yes, I know we can."
"That's all I needed to hear. We'll be in touch in the New Year. Sorry to disturb you on Christmas Day, but my wife insisted that I put you out of your misery. She's a bit soppy like that."
Kit heard an indignant "Oy!" in the background, and Ethan laughed again. "I'll leave you to enjoy the rest of your day. Merry Christmas, Kit."
"Merry Christmas. And thank you."
As he put the phone back in his pocket, Marley practically pounced on him. "Well? What did he say? Have we got the York contract?"
He shook his head. My God, what a day it was turning out to be. "Not exactly."
Her face fell. "Oh. Well, what, then?"
He looked up at her, dazed. "Ethan wants to launch Rochester's own brand of chocolate products, and he's been searching for a manufacturer for some time. He wants Carroll's to make them."
She sank down onto the floor beside him, her expression showing that she was as stunned as he was. "You're kidding."
"No. No, I'm really not." It was beginning to sink in at last. "It will be right across the board, Marley. All his stores will stock them, as well as the website. He wants a full range of premium chocolates, Christmas confectionery, Easter eggs, the lot."
"My God, it will be massive." She clapped her hands together. "So, now will you accept my offer?"
He reached over and took hold of her hands. "It's still just one contract, and after what happened with LuvRocks .... I know that Rochester's is a big company, but you never know. It's still a risk."
"Which is why I want you to think about my next proposition," she said. "The other night, I babysat for my nephews. They bombarded me with questions about the factory. They were convinced we employed Oompa Loompas and had a chocolate river, but that's beside the point. Thing is, they were fascinated to know how we made the rock and the chocolates, and it got me thinking. What if we held factory tours? What if we set up parts of the factory that could take visitors who could see demonstrations of chocolate making? Maybe we could take school parties, that sort of thing? We could even get the kids making their own sticks of rock. And we could set up a shop on the premises, selling our own products to visitors. We could even open a café, perhaps, at some point."
Kit considered the matter. "It sounds like a really good idea," he conceded, "but it would take loads of work. The factory would have to be reconfigured. There'd be insurance to think about and more staff, and advertising. It would take a huge investment."
"Which is what I'm offering."
He smiled at her gently. "You're wonderful for offering, Marley, and I think your ideas are fabulous, but I'm afraid it would take more even than you have in the bank to get this up and running, and I'm not sure how my bank would react to the idea. I mean, we could certainly approach them if I can get Colin to draw up a decent business plan, but even so."
To his surprise, she stood up and climbed onto his knee. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked deep into his eyes and said, "I know that, which is why I've made sure I have a lot more to offer you than what's in the bank."
He wasn't sure what was making his heart race more—the promise of an end to the factory's troubles, or the fact that she was curled up on his knee, her body close to his, the scent of her perfume making him quite dizzy with longing. "I'm not following," he said faintly.
"It's quite simple," she said. "I've sold Fox Lodge—at least in principle. Don't worry, though, it's a done deal. The couple who've bought it have been after it for quite a while, and they're cash buyers. No chain, you see. They've been living in rented accommodation while they looked for a project. Fox Lodge is everything they wanted, and they were willing to pay top dollar for it. I called them yesterday, and they're over the moon. So, you see, I have plenty of money to invest in the factory tour idea, and I think it's going to work. How about you?"
"How about me?"
"Do you think it's going to work?"
He looked into her beautiful hazel eyes and saw the faint trace of anxiety in them. Brushing back her hair, he kissed her gently on the lips, and she responded immediately. For a few moments, Kit completely forgot what they'd been talking about. As they finally pulled away from each other, she said softly, "Well? Do you?"
He stroked the soft hollow of her cheek and nodded. "Yes," he said. "I really think it could work."
"And what about the factory?" she said, smiling mischievously.
Kit swallowed. "Marley, are you sure about this? About us, I mean? Because I don't think I can go through all this again. We seem to go one step forward and two steps back. The other day, when I told you about the factory, you couldn't wait to get away. I thought for a moment that—"
"That I didn't want you anymore because you weren't the rich businessman I'd assumed you were."
"I'm sorry," he said, feeling ashamed. "It was only for a moment."
"It's okay, Kit. I understand that. We need to learn to trust each other, and I really believe we can do it. The truth is, when you told me about your financial problems, I had a moment of panic. Not because you had no money, but because I knew what I had to do. I knew, in that moment, that every plan I'd made over the last few years was going to be swept aside, and it scared the life out of me. I wasn't scared of giving up the money. I was scared that you meant so much to me that not giving you the money wasn't even an option. I knew that giving up Fox Lodge was huge. I'd built an entire future around it, and yet, all I wanted was to seal the deal with the Martins as quickly as possible so that I could help you. I guess my future is with you. Not some house."
He tapped her playfully on the nose. "Still went to London, though, didn't you?"
She laughed. "Too right. I thought, if I'm doomed to live in poverty for the rest of my life, I'm going to have one weekend in a swanky hotel and a bloody designer handbag to show for it. It's the least I deserved."
"You won't live in poverty," he promised her. "I'll work night and day to make this work. Carroll's Confectionary will be a success."
"And I'll work right beside you," she promised.
"You really think you can give up Fox Lodge?"
"I really do. Mind you, given that you've sold Fell House, I really hope you can cope with living in my tiny flat. I know it's miniscule after what you're used to, but we can make it work, can't we?"
"You want me to live with you?"
She blushed, very prettily. "I'm sorry. I sort of assumed you would."
He was silent for a moment, then he shook his head. "I can't live with you, Marley."
She pulled away a little, her face scarlet. "Oh. Right."
As she tried to climb off his knee, he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her securely. "Wait a minute. I've listened to your proposition, now it's time you listened to mine." He rummaged in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. "You're not the only one who wants to make an investment in our future," he said softly. "The borehole wasn't your only present. I want you to know how much I love you, and I want you to believe that I'll never abandon you. My future is with you, or it's no future, at all. Will you marry me, Marley?"
He held his breath as she stared down at the diamond engagement ring, nestling in its satin bed. It felt as if she was never going to answer him.
"For God's sake, hurry up and say yes, you idiot!"
They both jumped and looked round, astonished and rather embarrassed to see the entire family standing in the doorway, faces rosy from the cold, clothes dotted with snowflakes. They had eager expressions on their faces as they waited for Marley's answer.
Kit looked at Marley, and she looked back at him. "Yes," she said, smiling. "Of course it's yes."
"God, I love you so much," he told her and pulled her to him, burying his face in her hair, while the family whooped with excitement.
"Must check on dinner," squealed Mrs Jacobs, while David ushered the boys in with stern warnings to keep away from the chocolate.
"Aw," Don said, plonking himself down on the sofa and reaching for a can of beer. "Now, that's what I call a happy ending."
"What else would you expect at Christmas?" said Olivia dreamily. "I said you were saved for a reason, Marley, and there it is. You were brought back to be with Kit. It's like a Christmas miracle. Nice ring," she added, nodding approvingly, as Kit slipped the diamond solitaire onto Marley's finger. "Shouldn't you make a speech, Kit? I seem to recall Marley bullied David into making one when we got engaged."
Marley wrinkled her nose and mouthed sorry to Kit. "Take no notice. You don't have to say anything, honestly."
"The microwave's pinged," Mrs Jacobs said, rushing back into the living room. "Dinner's nearly ready! Ooh, our Marley, what a lovely ring. Maybe he's not such a miserable old Scrooge, after all."
Marley looked horrified, but Kit laughed as he looked around at the big, happy family that he had become a part of. "There's really only one thing I can say to that," he said. He pulled Marley close and beamed at them all. "Merry Christmas, and God bless us—every—"
But he didn't get to end the quotation. As Don and David groaned, Mrs Jacobs yelled, "Corny!" and Olivia threw a cushion at him in disgust.
Marley, however, shut him up in the way she knew best, and Kit decided he didn't have to finish that sentence, after all. He already knew he was blessed, and this was going to be the merriest Christmas ever.
The End