The Cosy Seaside Chocolate Shop Page 13

  ‘No, of course, that’s fine.’ She could hardly argue; he owned the place after all, and she needed to get on with serving her customers.

  Off he slimed. She heard a click, then saw him take a picture of the interior of the shop. Suddenly Holly appeared, popping up at the shelf area where he next had his camera angled. She began shifting with her cloth and spray around the room, photobombing him at every opportunity, intent on ‘her cleaning’ and ultimately spoiling the shots.

  Emma couldn’t help but smile to herself, but equally she knew it was a risky business upsetting the man. He tutted loudly, then started to frown.

  ‘Holly,’ she said tersely under her breath from behind the counter. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Well, he’s obviously up to mischief. Scheming something. We can’t make it easy for him.’

  ‘Well, that may be. But he does also own this place. And the last thing we want to do as tenants is upset him.’

  Holly stopped her cleaning with a hmph.

  Mr Neil wandered past them, back outside to the courtyard for a while.

  He was soon on his way, with just a nod in farewell. Emma was busy serving a customer with a fudge and truffle order, so she nodded back, forcing a smile.

  There was something about him that always made her skin prickle. She didn’t trust that man one bit.

  As soon as the door closed behind him, Holly caught Emma’s eye and pretended to gag. Emma pursed her lips into a tight smile, trying her best to remain professional at the counter.

  The next day, Thursday, trouble seemed to come in twos.

  ‘Have you seen what’s going on down by the harbour?’ Bev was striding in to The Chocolate Shop for her morning shift.

  Emma, who was occupied filling up the refrigerated counter with some fresh cream pralines she’d just made, raised her head. ‘No.’

  ‘Well, it looks like someone’s doing up that old wooden fish shack. Not sure what into, mind. I haven’t heard anything about it on the village grapevine – surprisingly.’

  ‘Hmm. Oh well, it’ll tidy that area up a bit,’ Emma commented. The old shack had been empty ever since Emma had moved into the village eight years ago, and probably had been for many years before that too. It looked rather ramshackle and its wooden panels were starting to rot.

  ‘Yes, there’s new sheets of timber and all sorts there, laid out ready to use.’

  ‘Well, that sounds good. It’ll give the village a facelift.’

  Emma didn’t think any more of it as they set to work, getting ready for their early opening.

  ‘My, there was a lot of banging and hammering going on down at the harbourside there this morning. What a racket. I called in to see Sheila in the grocer’s on my way up the hill and she’s heard there’s going to be some sort of new shop down there. She’s keeping her ear to the ground on it, trying to find out a bit more. Hmm, I wonder if that shack’s going to be another fish shop, like in the old days?’ This from dear old Mrs C, who’d called in for her Thursday morning coffee and cake.

  ‘Maybe,’ Emma responded.

  ‘Ah, yes, Ford’s fish shack. I remember it well. All sorts of fresh fish, smoked fish and crabs they had in there. I remember my mum going there for her kippers. My dad loved them with melted butter on – it was his treat on a Saturday morning. Not me, mind you, I hated the smelly buggers: they stank the whole house out. I was glad to get out to play on a Saturday.’

  ‘That’s probably why they did it.’ Bev was grinning knowingly.

  ‘Oh! I hadn’t thought of that.’ The old lady looked taken aback, then chuckled.

  Emma smiled too. ‘Right, I’ll go and fetch your coffee. A slice of chocolate cake today, Mrs C?’

  ‘That’d be grand, Emma pet.’

  She left Bev and Mrs C chatting over possibilities for the future of the old fish shack. It was far too small to be a house, Bev was saying, more like a kiosk of some kind. Gifts, arts and crafts maybe?

  It seemed to be the talk of Thursday, with several customers coming up with their own theories throughout the day. That was until Sheila, nose-to-the-ground and ear-to-the-wall woman that she was – in fact, the equivalent of a gossip bloodhound – came into the shop at four o’clock. And it wasn’t going to be a fish shop, oh no.

  ‘Hello, Emma.’ She almost bounced in the door with the news. ‘All that commotion down by the harbour? Well, I’ve had Councillor Fraser in. It’s been approved for a sweet shop, a candy kiosk, apparently, very American sounding if you ask me. Sticks of rock, boiled sweets, fudge, that kind of thing. I hope it’s not going to be all Kiss-Me-Quick hats and the like. Well, why on earth do we need that, I said to him, we’ve already got a chocolate shop in the village. They’re looking to encourage new business, apparently, and the new owners have agreed to do up the kiosk in keeping with the original building and preserve a bit of the local heritage.’

  Oh crikey, just as things were looking up for her and her Chocolate Shop – now there was to be direct confectionery competition in the village. This wasn’t good news. ‘Oh,’ was all Em could manage to say.

  ‘Well, us villagers could always boycott it, I suppose,’ Sheila suggested. ‘We wouldn’t want to see you losing business, Emma. And it’ll affect my sweet sales too. Humph, these incomers with their new-fangled ideas.’

  ‘I was an incomer once too, you know.’

  ‘Ah no, I didn’t mean you, pet. You’re part of the village now, one of us.’

  But Emma knew how it felt to be the new kid in town, trying to make a new start and a living somewhere. ‘Well, Sheila, although it’s not the best news I’ve had all day, I think we need to give them a chance at least.’ She didn’t want anyone to feel an outsider or not welcome here, even if they were selling sweets and taking some of her trade.

  ‘Well, yes. I didn’t mean to sound unwelcoming,’ Sheila conceded. ‘It’s just hard enough to make a decent living as it is these days and it’s bound to hit my trade.’

  ‘Tell me about it … But let’s just wait and see, hey? Maybe we can all work together to make Warkton-by-the-Sea the place to come to on the coast, and we can all gain.’

  ‘As you say, let’s just wait and see.’ But Sheila didn’t sound as if she was hopeful of a positive outcome and despite putting a brave face on it with Sheila, that night thoughts of another sweet-selling business in the village were spinning in Emma’s head. Why was it when you took a step forward in this business, there always one back? It was like snakes and bloody ladders. She sighed in the dark, listening to Alfie snoring from his bed in the kitchen next door. Emma knew that she could only do her best, and that was what she intended to keep doing, but it didn’t always help to ward off the nightly worries that often spiralled and kept her wide awake.

  24

  A week later the fish shack by the harbour had been turned into a cute little sweet shop. Emma had observed its gradual transformation on her evening dog walks. The wooden kiosk gleamed with new varnish and looked so quaint down there by the harbour. The hatch was open one day and she saw that the interior was being painted in alternate blue and white thick stripes and looked rather jolly. There was a newly-painted sign along the top of the shop’s frontage saying The Rock Shop, and a sign announcing it was due to open the next day.

  That Friday, Em needed to call down to Sheila’s for some extra milk before opening herself, so thought she’d do the right thing by calling to say ‘hello’ and introduce herself, even if the business was in competition with hers. It was half-past nine, and Emma could hear someone inside the shop. The side door was ajar and when Emma peered in she saw sticks of rock, jars of lemon sherbets, cola cubes, mint humbugs, and those old-fashioned seaside sweets that looked just like beach pebbles, lined up in rows. There were strawberry laces, large swirly-striped lollipops, fudge and more. The new owners had evidently gone all-out with the old-fashioned sweet shop idea. Emma had to admit that it did look good. She spotted a middle-aged lady with grey-tinged shoulder-length brown hair, sorti
ng out some stock.

  ‘Morning,’ Emma called brightly.

  The woman looked up with a smile.

  ‘Hi, welcome to Warkton-by-the-Sea. I’m Emma, from The Chocolate Shop just up the road.’

  ‘Oh hello. I’m Anne.’ The woman paused for a second or two and then came across. ‘Yes, I’ve seen that shop up the hill,’ Anne continued, sounding a little cool.

  ‘So, are you opening here today?’

  ‘Yes, I’m just about ready. We used to run market stalls down Durham way, selling sweets and the like, but we thought it might be a nice idea to get somewhere more permanent. This place turned up for sale, slightly quirky, but it felt right, you know? And this looks such a lovely village.’

  ‘Yes, it is, and the locals are a friendly bunch when you get to know them.’ Em hoped to goodness they wouldn’t let her down and start the boycott they’d initially threatened. She could only offer this olive branch of friendship herself, and hope others might follow suit.

  People were always curious around here (well okay, yes, nosey) so they were bound to turn up and chat to this new lady, if only to find out where she was from and what her intentions were. It was like being a suitor to the village. There were unspoken tests you had to pass as a newcomer. No one quite knew what they were, but they were there nonetheless, to see whether you fitted in or were branded an ‘incomer’ forever.

  ‘Oh, I’ve already met … ah, Sheila, is it? The lady from the little supermarket?’

  Well, that was no surprise. She’d have been loitering down there for the past week, no doubt, trying to catch the incomer with a list of questions about her intentions. ‘She seemed …’ Anne paused as if trying to find the right words. ‘Well … nice and chatty.’

  ‘Oh, she is that,’ Emma replied, with her eyebrows slightly raised.

  Anne gave a small, hesitant smile, saying no more.

  ‘Well, I wish you all the best with the new venture,’ Emma offered kindly, and she genuinely meant it. She wouldn’t wish ill on someone new to the area trying their best with a business. As Emma rescanned the goods for sale – it was always wise to check out the competition – the only thing they both would be selling by the looks of it was fudge, so it wouldn’t mean too much direct competition, hopefully. And hey, who knew what might happen; people might come especially for the old-fashioned sweets at the harbour and the chocolates up the hill. Warkton might become the confectionery coastal hub of Northumberland. She could dream, right?

  ‘Thank you, that’s kind of you. I’m feeling a bit nervous about it all, to be honest. A lot of our savings have gone into this from our retirement fund so there’s a lot at stake,’ she confided. ‘My husband’s still working part-time as a heating engineer at the moment, but that will finish soon, and he’ll be helping me on the weekends. We’ve just moved up to the area, got ourselves a little bungalow in Seahouses.’

  ‘Oh yes, it’s nice over there.’ Emma was aware that the time was ticking on and she had her own shop to open. ‘Well, nice meeting you, Anne. I’m sure we’ll catch up with each other again soon. All the best.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Emma set off to Sheila’s with a small wave. It didn’t hurt to be welcoming. And the new lady seemed friendly enough.

  This village could be big enough for the both of us, Emma thought in a John Wayne kind of voice. If she was going to cling on to her own Chocolate Shop dreams, it would just have to be.

  25

  On Saturday, Adam popped into The Chocolate Shop just before closing.

  ‘Hi Hols, you know tonight, what do you think about calling in at the pub later? There’s meant to be a band on. Should be a fun night. What do you think?’

  ‘Yeah, I’d be up for that. There’s usually a good crowd in on a Saturday night too. Hey,’ she turned to Em, ‘what about you and Max? He’s coming up tonight, isn’t he? Be something different for you to do.’

  Yeah, that might be good, she and Max hadn’t been out in ages, and a few drinks, some chat with the locals, spending time with Holly and Adam and some live music, sounded good. Max and Adam always got on well too, despite the almost twenty-year age gap.

  ‘Yeah, okay. Thanks. What time are you heading down there?’

  ‘About eightish,’ Adam answered. ‘We’ll see you there then, shall we?’

  ‘Great. Yes.’ That’d give them time for a bite of supper once he got here, and then to wander down. She was sure Max would be up for that.

  It was twenty to nine by the time Emma and Max got to The Fisherman’s. Yet again, he’d been held up. It was getting so tedious. What was it with this job down in Leeds? There always seemed to be something to delay him.

  An hour earlier Emma had found herself sitting waiting in her lounge, worrying. At least this time he had managed to call her to explain as he left. But then all sorts of weird thoughts began whirling around her head. Maybe it wasn’t just the job. Was it a cooling off in their relationship? It happened to couples all the time. Why not them?

  But then, she countered her own argument, it didn’t feel like that when they were together, most of the time it still felt precious. But spending all week apart, well, who knew how he was really feeling? And hey, she’d done it herself, with a couple of short-term relationships she’d tried since Luke, when she realised they were getting nowhere and eased off, drifted away.

  Ah, these thoughts were getting her nowhere fast. She’d stopped herself and gone downstairs to make a start on some chocolate bars – yes, chocolate she could always count on to calm her nerves.

  So, they finally made it for their night out. It was rammed in there – The Fisherman’s Arms at full pelt on a Saturday night. There was a younger crowd in for the music as well as some of the regulars that Emma recognised. A buzz of excitement filled the warm air, along with sounds of animated chatter and laughter. Pints were being poured on repeat and drinks passed across the bar. The band were doing their final sound checks and looked as though they were about to start.

  Holly was standing up, waving, in the far corner; she and Adam had managed to get a table in the main bar area. Max did the ‘What do you want to drink?’ universal glass-tipping hand signal, and they got a round in before heading across to join them.

  ‘Hi, guys, sorry we’re late,’ Emma said, her voice raised above the din.

  ‘Hey, no worries,’ Holly replied.

  Max delivered a pint of pale ale across to Adam and a gin and tonic for Holly, her drink of the moment. Em had chosen the same.

  The first sip of the gin was dry and fragrant with a touch of lemon that was delicious.

  They were soon chatting, but once the band started, it was hard to hear over the music, so they relaxed and listened to them. They were a male duo and Emma had to admit she was really impressed – they were much better than the usual fare down at The Fisherman’s. They played guitar, and keyboard as well as singing, performing several covers of Coldplay, Kodaline and the like, then they did some of their own original tracks too, which were great.

  Adam got another round in and the night was going well. The band took a break and Emma’s group could talk more easily then.

  ‘Hey, they’re really good,’ Em enthused.

  ‘Yeah, I loved their version of “Paradise”. Just brill,’ said Holly.

  ‘Pretty talented,’ agreed Max.

  ‘Good to get some live music too,’ commented Adam. ‘The pub should do it more often, seeing how busy it is. I’ve sent a few customers down from the hotel too.’

  ‘How’s it going so far this summer, mate?’ Max asked.

  ‘Good. Bookings are up on last year, so it’s looking promising. We’ve just completed the renovation of our executive “bridal” suite too.’ He showed the inverted commas with his fingertips. ‘It looks great.’

  ‘It’s a-maz-ing,’ Holly butted in, pulling a ‘wow’ kind of face. ‘Honestly, I sooo want to stay in that room.’

  ‘It’s always booked out,’ Adam continued. ‘It’s been all
done out really well, all new soft furnishings, and has got a huge super-king bed—’

  ‘That I just want to bounce on,’ Holly interrupted cheekily. ‘Oh, and they’ve had an interior designer in and everything. The colours are divine – all soft seascape style.’

  ‘Sounds lovely,’ Emma commented.

  ‘Yeah, then you go outside and it’s even better,’ Adam added. ‘There’s a deck, and you’re like at the top of the hotel there. The view across the bay is brilliant.’

  ‘And,’ Holly took up again, ‘there’s a Jacuzzi up there with champagne in ice buckets all ready to go. Proper outdoor lounge chairs, and those huge lose-yourself-in-them comfy towels. It’s so lush.’

  ‘It’s proving really popular already.’

  ‘I bet. Sounds brilliant.’ Max was smiling.

  ‘It’s such a lovely village here,’ Emma said. ‘It’s so nice people can come and really enjoy it. The hotel upgrade has been such a good thing for Warkton.’

  ‘And they’re still enjoying their turndown chocolates, too,’ Adam said, grinning.

  ‘That’s good to know.’ Emma smiled.

  ‘Right, anyone for more drinks?’ Adam stood up and went off to the bar with Max, where Em noticed they were being served by Nate. She felt slightly uncomfortable about that; perhaps she should have warned Max that Luke’s brother had started working there. But to be honest, after the whole shower debacle and row, she hadn’t particularly wanted to bring up his name with Max.

  With the lads at the bar, Em turned to Holly. ‘All okay, Hols? Did you two get a chance to chat things over?’

  ‘Yeah, a bit. He just seems a bit reluctant to talk about it in any depth, though. Says it’ll sort itself out somehow. But we seem okay for now.’

  ‘Well, that’s good. Yeah, some men aren’t that great at discussing their feelings, are they?’