However, when he moved over to the largest window he found it was a simple layout of pretty chocolate boxes. No scene was sculpted from chocolate to entice the eye and make the mind marvel at how it was achieved.
Sylvia came up beside him, the keys to the shop in her hand, ready to lock up. ‘You’re wondering where the display is, aren’t you?’
‘Don’t you do one anymore?’
‘I do. Or at least, I had planned to like usual. But there’s been so much organising and paperwork since the subscription business took off. Honestly, I’m just not sure if I’ll be able to get around to it. It takes such a lot of planning…’
Olivier nodded and put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Of course. You’re only one woman. Definitely not an old woman though,’ he added hastily and she laughed. ‘I remember all the test runs you would have to do. It was an inspired way to pull in customers, but you obviously have enough of those now.’
‘That’s true but…I loved doing it for the delight on people’s faces too. Not just for the sales.’ She looked up at him, and if he hadn’t known better he almost would have thought she looked a little shy. ‘I loved seeingyourface. Especially after you saw everything that went into it and were forced to help me in the kitchen.’
‘There was no forcing. I always found it exciting. I’d hold my breath whenever you pulled a mould out of the fridge and we’d wait to see whether it was cracked or stuck. It was so satisfying when it popped straight out, perfectly smooth.’
She grinned up at him and shook her head. ‘You really are my son aren’t you?’
‘Was there any doubt?’
‘No.’
‘Come on, I’ll lock up. Do you remember the routine?’
He nodded and they went about turning lights off and refrigerating the chocolates from the display they could keep and bagging up the few that needed to be eaten. Olivier stepped out, taking another look in the window, while Maman set the alarm and locked the door.
He remembered some of the old scenes she’d made in the past. Paris was the first one – a home from home with the Eiffel Tower and Louvre museum. Then London the following year. There had been an enchanted forest another time, full of fairies and woodland creatures. One inspired byCharlie and the Chocolate Factoryand one with a train that wound around a huge rocky-road mountain dusted with icing sugar, sparkling under the lights. That had been one of his favourites.
When Sylvia joined him, they linked arms as they walked through the narrow cobbled lanes, still busy with shoppers and people going to have an early dinner at the restaurants. She offered him a paper bag with chocolate raisins inside. He tried one and there was a touch of cinnamon and nutmeg in the chocolate, warming him as the cold air nipped at them.
‘What displays have I missed?’ he asked.
‘Oh, now, what have I done over the last couple of years? Erm…well I finally did a classic Santa’s grotto. And before that I did the Snow Queen.’
‘Did you take photos?’ he asked as they turned onto the main street and headed up the hill.
‘Yes, of course. If I’d know you were so interested I would’ve sent them to you. I suppose I thought you were a little old for caring about it.’
‘I will never be too old to enjoy something like that.’
She took one of the raisins and smiled. They crossed at the traffic lights and then she stopped suddenly, right beside the big clock. There were students standing around it, the perfect meeting spot with its stone steps at the bottom, and it was even more welcoming with the strings of white fairy flights fanning out in every direction from the top, like a spider’s web overhead. ‘I have an idea.’
‘For the display? I thought you didn’t have time?’
‘No. I don’t. Butyoudo. Would you like to try your hand at it?’
‘Me? Oh. But I’m not a chocolatier. It takes such skill.’
‘You have the skills, Olivier. I know you do because I taught them to you.’ Her dark eyes were alight. ‘And I know you must still work with chocolate, though you’re probably a little rusty with some of the technicalities. What do you say?’
Olivier wondered if he should be annoyed that she was commandeering him into work when he was supposed to be on holiday, but all he could really think about was the way his mind began whirring with ideas. ‘What would I make? What kind of scene?’
‘That’s totally up to you. You can make it as elaborate or simple as you like. Oh, say you will, Oli darling. You obviously have a fondness for it. And you can come to the shop to experiment, so we’ll get to spend more time together.’ She hooked her arm back through his and they started walking again. ‘If it all goes wrong we don’t have to put it in the window. We can just eat your efforts.’ She laughed.
‘Win-win.’ If saying yes meant he could spend more time with her while he was in England, then of course it would be worth it.
‘Precisely. Something tells me,’ she added softly, ‘that you could do with finding the joy in the kitchen again.’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he admitted, just as softly. And if he rediscovered that passion, maybe that would help him to make a decision about the promotion. Yes, her tactics were very different to his papa’s, but at least she asked, rather than told, and it felt more like it was with the intention of helping him than fitting in with her agenda… ‘Okay. I’ll give it a try.’
‘Thank you.’ She squeezed his arm and said no more about it.
