The Cosy Seaside Chocolate Shop Page 14

  ‘True.’

  ‘Well, best of luck to you both.’ Em saw the two men heading back towards the table and thought it wise to draw that particular conversation to a close.

  The lads were chatting as they came back over with the drinks. Max had a frown on his face. ‘Hey, Adam, how do you find that guy?’

  ‘Uh, he’s not too bad. A bit full of himself at times, but pretty harmless.’

  ‘Ah, okay, fair enough.’

  ‘He’s your ex’s bro, isn’t he, Em?’ Adam asked, as he popped the girls’ drinks before them on the table.

  ‘Yep.’ Em’s voice was slightly taut.

  Holly shook her head. ‘Becca said he was chatting her up the other night. She said it’s bad enough with Danny on the case behind the bar and now there’s two of them at it. Mind you, I think she quite enjoyed it.’ She laughed.

  Em could see Max’s jaw tighten. ‘Well, he’s bound to be chatty behind the bar,’ she said, trying to lighten the tone. ‘It’s all part of the job.’

  Max just gave her a look.

  ‘Right, well, cheers guys.’ Em took a sip of gin and tonic. ‘Ooh look, I think the band’s about to come back on.’ She swiftly moved the conversation on.

  After the band’s second set, which was easily as good as the first and got the whole bar singing along, the pub started to empty out a bit. Nate was clearing the tables and eventually reached theirs.

  ‘Hey, Em, guys. Good night in here, wasn’t it? Loving the act.’

  ‘Yeah, they’ve been brilliant.’

  ‘By the way,’ Nate added, ‘I’m thinking of having a beach BBQ next weekend. We used to do that a lot down in Oz. Saturday night, if you’d like to come along. Just turn up at the beach down on the sands near the car park and bring a few beers. It’ll be pretty casual, but it should be a bit of fun. You’re all more than welcome.’

  ‘Oh, thanks Nate. Sounds great.’ Em smiled.

  Max didn’t say anything.

  Holly sounded enthusiastic. ‘Aw, cheers Nate. Sounds brill.’

  Adam nodded next to her.

  ‘So, that’s next weekend sorted.’ Holly grinned. She loved a party, whatever or wherever it was.

  ‘We’ll go, won’t we?’ Em questioned Max.

  ‘Yeah, probably.’ He sounded rather lukewarm about it. ‘I’ll just have to check everything at work, mind. We absolutely have to meet our contract deadline on the Leeds flats.’

  ‘Ah, okay. Well, thanks Nate.’

  As the pub emptied out there were just a few locals left. It was warm and cosy by the log burner that was lit even though it was summer, and the four of them were chatting comfortably. The two singers were sitting with a couple of pints, and then one of them took up his guitar and began strumming away. Soon, Nate finished off behind the bar, and, bringing his own guitar, sat himself down with the duo and joined in for an impromptu jamming session. It was pretty cool, sitting there, listening in, watching, whilst the four of them finished their drinks.

  There was a moment when Nate had held Emma’s gaze, just for a few intense seconds, as he sang the lyrics to Coldplay’s ‘Yellow’ along with the lads – and as he sang about the stars shining just for the girl in the song, a lump formed in Emma’s throat and all sorts of mixed emotions filled her. Then Max had spotted Nate’s focus and given Emma a look of his own which was rather stormy and she’d had a feeling the green-eyed monster was upon him.

  What was she meant to do, hey? Totally ignore the guy? He was a part of her past, a link with all that – and oh my God, at times he looked so like Luke …

  26

  Despite the numerous drinks and late night at The Fisherman’s, both Emma and Max woke early. Having been used to early starts every day for work, it was often hard for them to sleep in, so by seven-thirty on Sunday morning, they were down on the deserted beach, walking Alfie. The sun had risen on a gorgeous summer day, the sea rippling with glints of silver light bouncing off the waves.

  ‘So, it sounds like you’ve had a good week at the shop … and the courtyard café’s going well? I was sorry I couldn’t be there for the opening day,’ Max said as they strolled on the golden sands.

  ‘Hey, no worries. I do know you have a lot on just now. And yeah, it’s going really well – and did I tell you I even had a guitar serenade from Nate on the opening morning?’ The words just fell out of her mouth before she had time to think.

  ‘Oh great. Good old Nate.’ Max sounded huffy.

  Em carried on in a bright tone, regardless. ‘Yeah, it was quite nice actually.’

  ‘So, you think I’m boring then because I don’t sit around strumming Bob Dylan tracks on the guitar?’

  ‘It was Ed Sheeran, actually. Max, what is up with you? And where did you get that idea from? Of course I don’t think you’re boring, maybe just a bit – a bit fixated right now.’

  ‘Because I’ve got a real job and a business to run, and I happen to be rather busy?’ Max’s voice was taut.

  ‘It’s not that!’ Blimey, he was sounding like a stroppy teenager. Emma started walking ahead with Alfie; she couldn’t be doing with this. Surely she should be able to mention Nate’s name? He was just a friend, more or less family. This jealous side of Max was getting a bit tedious, if she was honest.

  ‘I can be carefree too, you know.’

  Emma turned to glare at him.

  And Max started stripping off his T-shirt.

  What was he doing? Em just stood and stared, wondering what on earth had brought this on – though it wasn’t a bad sight at all. Just a little out of character. Then he started undoing the belt of his jeans, the top button … She was amazed and a little taken aback. Was he intending to remove the lot? What the heck had set all this off? Jealousy? Was it to do with Nate?

  Good lord. ‘Max … what if someone …?’ Em started. But glancing up and down the beach, it was obvious they had the whole bay to themselves.

  The jeans came off, the boxer shorts next. And there was her gorgeous, if rather grumpy boyfriend, standing stark bollock naked on the beach. Her mouth creased into a wry smile.

  ‘Joining me?’ he asked, smirking somewhat. ‘Or are you too bloody scared? Or, in fact, boring yourself?’

  Ah sod it. If you can’t beat ’em join ’em. But this was the North Sea, and despite it being summer it was always chilly if not bloody freezing. She’d only ever braved it up to her ankles before and that was bad enough; it had set her off shivering for hours.

  ‘Right then,’ she snapped back, taking off her clothes in a rush before the cold air or the appearance of a dog walker made her change her mind. Spaniel Alfie stood staring at the pair of them, barking, then leapt into the water.

  Max ran at the sea and took a dive into a foaming white wave, Emma dashing in after him. OMG! Just up to her knees and it was flippin’ freezing! In to her waist now – oh crikey, this was torture. She plunged forward after Max in a now-or-never moment of madness, the chill of the water taking her breath away as a frothy wave washed over her.

  ‘You silly bugger. You’re mad!’ she shouted across the boil of the surf. It had been windy last night, and the sea was still a bit whipped up. As another blast of icy wave slammed against her, she shouted, ‘We’re going to die of bloody hypothermia.’

  Max was laughing now, the anger zapped out of him by the chill of the sea and the craziness of the situation. He swam across to her and she kicked up an arc of cold water at him.

  ‘Now that means trouble.’ He was grinning as he splashed her back, soaking her hair, her face, the salt stinging her eyes now.

  ‘Right, that’s it!’ With both hands she scooped up as much seawater as she could and launched it at him, then doused him again, over and over.

  He ducked and was there next to her, pinning her arms beside her. She could feel his strength, but it was measured with playfulness. He was shaking his head exaggeratedly, as though wondering what to do with her next.

  He took her into his arms and planted a wet, salty kiss f
irmly on her lips.

  And they both felt a sudden huge relief; that this was still good, that they were still right.

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve got m-me into this, Max Hardy.’ Emma tried to remain indignant as she finally pulled away, her teeth chattering now.

  He wrapped his arms about her and lifted her feet up off the sand-bed. They rocked together, laughing and shivering for a while, getting bashed by the pulsing waves, then he carried her back to the shore. This was the moment they should lie back on the sands in the breaking waves of the shoreline and make love, but that was in the movies and probably on location in the Caribbean – it was too bloody cold here for that. Though, they might just continue this back upstairs in The Chocolate Shop – maybe after a thaw out in the shower first.

  All too soon it was time for her to open up the shop, and for Max to leave. The afternoon had turned to rain, so the courtyard had to close, which meant the shop’s café was rather crowded. But at least working single-handedly this afternoon, as Bev wanted to spend some time with her mum and Holly had to get back to her studies, meant she didn’t have to be in three places at once, just the two – the shop and kitchen. Emma’s own exam for the licensing was this coming week too, so she’d cram in a few hours of study herself later.

  Emma sighed; it was exhausting, it seemed like she was on a hamster wheel at times. Working, chocolate crafting, baking, serving, paying bills, seeing Max, studying, working … It’d all be worth it in the end, though, it had to be. And, if she passed this exam then she could start her prosecco parties for real. Something which would take her through into the autumn and winter months too.

  She just felt so very tired of late, but there was no chance of taking a rest just yet. With The Rock Shop on her heels – oh yes, she’d spotted the stripy pink-and-white bags making their way past her shop, clutched in the tourists’ hands – she needed to keep The Chocolate Shop as appealing as it possibly could be to keep drawing the customers in. It took a hell of a lot of determination to get that chocolate crafted, and Emma knew she couldn’t afford to take anything for granted. As long as people wanted their day brightening with a fix of cocoa and a friendly smile, Emma would be there, ready and waiting.

  27

  ‘Sorry, Em, but I’m not going to manage to get up to see you this weekend,’ said Max down the phone line. It was already mid-week, the busy days having passed quickly.

  ‘Oh Max, not work again.’ Emma couldn’t hide her disappointment.

  ‘It’ll be the last big push on this Leeds project, and we’ll need both Saturday and Sunday to get it to finishing by Monday, handover day. I know it’s a pain, but after this is done, life’ll be much easier for us, and we’ll have a bit more time.’

  Time … it was so precious. Living an hour apart as they usually did, and both of them running businesses, was bad enough, but the Leeds job had meant they were nearer to three hours apart.

  ‘Okay, there’s not much I can say or do is there? But yes, I get it,’ Em conceded.

  ‘The contract has time penalties, as you know, so I absolutely can’t afford for the job to run over. But after that I can’t wait to come back up to Warkton and to chill out with just you and a bottle of lager.’

  ‘Ah, and who said romance was dead?’ Emma joked. ‘Well, maybe I’ll try to come down to your house after work and see you one night next week, then.’ She was trying her best to sound upbeat. Max was working hard, after all, and she did admire that he was dedicated and ran his own business – she knew herself how much time, organisation and energy that took. She had, in fact, only been down to his place a couple of times in the whole of their eight-month relationship, being holed up working in The Chocolate Shop all hours too.

  ‘Yeah, that’d be great, Em. I’d like that. But I’m likely to be wrapping up here in Leeds, at least for the first part of the week.’

  ‘Okay, well, let me know which day might work best.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘Everything else okay with you there?’ Emma asked.

  ‘Yeah, not bad. I’m tired and fed up with staying over in B&Bs, but that’s par for the course.’

  ‘No, it’ll not be like home, will it?’

  ‘A bed, four walls, TV and a coffee machine. But I could be worse off, I suppose.’

  ‘Yeah, look on the bright side, you’re nearly done there.’

  ‘Of course. And it will be so worth it in the end. It’ll boost my business no end, both profits and reputation. That’s why I want to do the best job I can this weekend and get it finished on schedule too. You know how powerful word of mouth is.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’ll see you in a week or so. It’ll soon go by.’

  They chatted for a while, but it was hard sounding upbeat when they were both so tired and so far apart.

  ‘Love you, Em,’ Max brought the call to an end.

  ‘Love you, too.’ It was becoming easier to say that now. To say those words to someone new. Emma turned off her mobile with a sigh. Was loving someone enough?

  So, it looked like she’d be going to Saturday’s beach BBQ on her own then.

  The following morning a van pulled up alongside The Chocolate Shop, blocking the light. Emma was about to go outside and remind them that that was a yellow line area and no parking – after all, it wouldn’t be nice for her café customers to sit and look at the side of a van – when she saw the sign on it. Something inside her went cold as she stood in the shop and watched the male driver get out and remove a set of ladders from the roof rack. He then climbed up beside the shop window and the next thing she heard was a hammering noise.

  She felt a bit light-headed and had to steady herself by holding on to the counter’s edge before her emotions swiftly turned from shock to anger. Out of the shop door she marched, past the van with ‘Fawcett’s Estate Agents – Your Home in our Hands’ emblazoned on the side.

  From the base of the ladder she shouted up, ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  The ladder shook a little as the man was startled. ‘Instructions from the owner, madam. It’s up for sale,’ he called down.

  Of course, the owner wasn’t her. He had the right, the slimy little eel, but he could at least have had the decency to inform her in advance. Oh, her precious Chocolate Shop up for sale. Yes, she’d feared this moment for over a year now. But this was it, it was now a reality. She felt her knees buckle.

  ‘Whoa, hang on there,’ came a voice beside her. With that she felt a pair of strong arms around her, supporting her. She felt herself sink into them. Her head was a bit woozy. ‘Em, you okay?’ It was Nate.

  ‘Is the lady all right? I’m only doing my job.’ The chap was down off his ladder, his task completed and the ‘For Sale’ sign mounted next to Emma’s lounge window.

  Suddenly Sheila appeared on the scene along with old Mrs Clark, who’d been taking her time ambling up the hill.

  ‘What’s happening here, then?’ Sheila raised her voice. ‘Ah, looks like she’s feeling a little faint. Give her some space, people … And let’s get her back into the shop, young man.’

  Sheila and Nate helped Emma inside and to one of the window seats, where they sat her down. She seemed to come to a little then.

  ‘Ooh, sorry, I’m not quite sure what happened then,’ Emma said, her head starting to pound.

  ‘I’ll make a cup of a sweet tea, shall I?’ said Holly. She was helping again today as revision was ‘doing her head in’, and had been serving in the back courtyard at the time of the drama.

  ‘Yes, pet, that’d be a good idea. Thank you.’ Sheila’s voice was calm and kind.

  Nate had sat himself down next to Emma. ‘You feeling better now?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. Uh, is that sign really up outside my shop?’

  ‘The “For Sale” one? Yes. Sorry Em,’ Nate replied.

  ‘Surely they can’t just do that without telling me?’

  With that, in waltzed The Eel himself, her back-stabbing landlord – now she knew
what all those photos were about.

  He’d evidently overheard Emma’s comment. ‘My apologies, Emma. They were meant to be coming to put up the sign in an hour or so’s time. I’m here to advise you now. So yes, the property is for sale, and the lease will continue on its month-by-month basis as agreed with yourself at Easter. I will, of course, inform you if there are any developments.’

  ‘That’s shocking,’ Mrs C piped up.

  ‘Disgusting, if you ask me,’ Sheila added. Both ladies stood with arms folded stiffly across their chests in matronly battle pose.

  ‘I am well within my rights to do this.’ Mr Neil dabbed his forehead with his cotton handkerchief. He looked a little uncomfortable, unusually for him.

  ‘You may well be, but it’s not a polite or gentlemanly way to do business at all.’ Mrs Clark was indignant. There was a chance she was about to bash the landlord over the head with her Queen-sized handbag, from the telltale twitch of her wrist.

  ‘It’s okay, Mrs C. Thanks for the support, but it’s just one of those things,’ Emma countered. The last thing she wanted was for Mrs C to be carted off by the local constabulary for causing grievous bodily harm. And despite her age, someone of Mr Neil’s surly nature would surely take her to court or at least inform the police.

  ‘It’s a disgrace, that’s what it is,’ Sheila added.

  ‘Well, I think my job here is done. This is the notice in writing for you.’ With that, he placed a crisp white envelope on the tabletop in front of Emma, just as Holly appeared with the cup of tea.

  ‘Time for you to go then, Mr Eel,’ Holly said loudly, making no effort to hide the misnomer.

  And the four of them watched as the landlord slid his way out of the door without so much as a backward glance.

  ‘Oh pet, we’ll find a way through this for you, won’t we. He can’t just chuck you out,’ Mrs C said determinedly.

  ‘Of course we will,’ Sheila rallied.

  ‘Thanks, but I’m not sure how.’ Emma was being realistic. ‘If he sells the shop from under me I can’t do anything about that. And I can’t afford to buy it.’ Her shoulders sank.