Footsteps in the Snow and other Teatime Treats. Trisha Ashley
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3
Previously published by My Weekly
I found the new artisan chocolate maker’s little shop while taking a short cut back to the car after my second Fatbusters meeting. In fact, the leader’s parting rallying cry of ‘sumo to svelte quicker than you ever thought possible!’ was still ringing in my ears when I came face to face with my worst nightmare.
Yet to be truthful, it was more my fiancée David’s worst nightmare than mine, because I’d been quite happy with my curvy and generous size fourteen figure right up to the moment when he presented me with three month’s membership of Fatbusters as a Christmas present and suggested that as soon as I’d reached size eight we could set a date for our wedding.
Size eight? I wasn’t even sure my bones were size eight, let alone the rest of me! But since he seemed convinced that I’d told him I wanted to lose a few pounds in order to look truly gorgeous on my big day, I had to go along with it.
But the trouble was, that even the very idea of dieting made me feel twice as hungry as usual and all I could think of while being weighed today (I’d only lost a two measly pounds after practically starving myself for a week!) was that I deserved some chocolate.
Now, irresistibly drawn by the rich aroma wafting across the street, my nose was pressed against the bow window of Nick’s Chocolate Heaven, as I gazed longingly at the mouth-watering array laid out on old-fashioned cut-glass stands.
They looked beautiful – and hideously expensive. But that was good, because it meant that I couldn’t possibly have any … Unless, suggested a little devil in my mind, I just bought one single, delicious, self-indulgent treat for being so good all week. That couldn’t hurt, could it?
Before I knew it I was in the shop and scanning even more luscious temptations until I made my choice: a chocolate shaped like a rose and filled with coffee and cream truffle, all glossy, dark brown and tempting … rather like the proprietor’s eyes, I discovered, when I finally looked up.
“Just the one?” he asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Yes, just the one,” I said firmly. Apart from those liquid and warm brown eyes his thin, bony face wasn’t really handsome and his black hair was ruffled and needed a good cut.
“Certainly,” he agreed, smiling in a way that beguilingly crinkled the corners of his eyes and I hastily revised the not-very-handsome first impression. That smile was a heart-breaker … and I just hoped the chocolate didn’t turn out to be a diet-breaker, too.
He put the rose-shaped truffle carefully in a little cellophane packet and closed it with a gold twist-tie. “I hope you enjoy it,” he said, with another amazing smile, “and do come again soon.”
“I’m sure I will,” I assured him, then hurried off holding up my little bag and feeling the way I did as a child when I won a goldfish at the fair, wondering if the poor little thing would even make it back to the car, let alone home. And of course I could bump into a fellow Fatbuster at any minute or, even worse, someone who knew my fiancé, David!
As I unlocked the car and got in I felt hugely guilty – but strangely, that didn’t stop me from immediately eating my delicious treat and then hiding the cellophane bag in the glove box. Guilty pleasures always seem to be the best, don’t they?
My spirits rose slightly and anyway, one small chocolate couldn’t hurt. (Okay, quite big chocolate, actually.) In fact, a little reward like that after every class could be just enough to keep me on course to my size eight wedding dress, even if that still seemed an unattainable dream – David’s dream.
*
By my fourth visit to Nick’s shop we were on friendly terms. I told him all about the catering business I’d set up with my best friend, Annie and he described how he’d got into chocolate making.
He didn’t question why I only bought one chocolate at a time, but he started keeping samples of new varieties for me to try … which it would have been rude to have refused, since he said he trusted my opinion.
“I think you have a natural palate for chocolate! You should come on my chocolate making course – I’m starting with a one day session next month, but then I might do evening workshops after that.”
“Oh, I’d love to!” I enthused, then suddenly remembered why that really wouldn’t be a good idea. It would just ruin all that hard work because I was managing to lose the pounds, even if progress seemed painfully slow. “But perhaps I’d better not,” I added and then hurried out of the shop.
Back at the car I suddenly found the tears were slowly sliding down my face as I savoured my lovely mohito-cream-centred chocolate, which was the yummiest so far. I was already down one dress size and David kept telling me how much better I looked already – so why did I feel so unhappy all the time? Even Annie remarked that I wasn’t the fun Katy she used to know and if I turned into a stick-thin bride, then she would look like the biggest bridesmaid in the world in contrast.
“Don’t be daft,” I’d said, “I’m sure David will settle for a generous size twelve, because there’s no way I can get any slimmer than that.”
And if he really loved me, he would settle for that. I stuffed the empty cellophane bag in the glove compartment, dried my tears and set off home, making a mental note to tell Nick next time that his mohito-flavoured chocolates were destined to be a major seller!
*
“If you don’t mind my saying so, you’re looking thinner lately,” Nick said a couple of weeks later. “I hope you’re not ill?”
“No, not at all – in fact I’m glad it’s noticeable,” I said, then found myself pouring out to him the story of David’s Christmas gift, how hard I was finding losing weight and how miserable it was making me feel.
“He thought it was what I wanted – and I do want him to feel proud of me on our wedding day.” I felt my eyes fill with tears. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s got into me lately! I’m usually a happy, bubbly person.”
“Low blood sugar,” he said reassuringly.
“Oh, do you think so?”
“Definitely. Here, try this new dark chocolate mint julep cream.” He handed me a glass dish of butterfly-shaped chocolates. “And you looked the perfect weight to me the very first time I saw you – not all men like the walking skeletons, you know!”
“Thank you, Nick,” I said, surprised and pleased, “I only wish David felt the same way as you and-” I broke off, noticing the empty dish in my hands. “Oh dear, I seem to have eaten all of these!”
“I’ll take that as another winning flavour then, shall I?” he said, grinning.
*
“Annie,” I said, while we were preparing a Silver Wedding buffet, “you know I go to Fatbusters every week?”
She looked up from a tray of perfect mini-meringues and raised one eyebrow. “Yes, and you know what I think about David wanting you lose weight before you set the date for the wedding.”
“He didn’t mean it like that – but let’s not go there,” I said hastily, because I was beginning to get the uneasy feeling that she might be right. “The thing is, I’ve been cheating all the time!”
“What, with another man?” she demanded, looking startled.
“No, of course it’s not another man,” I said, going slightly pink. “It’s just that I’ve been stopping off at Nick’s Chocolate Heaven right after every