The Cosy Seaside Chocolate Shop Page 2

  ‘Oh, I can’t wait.’ Max opened the medium-sized cardboard box, unwrapping layers of tissue paper to find a set of chocolate tools: spanner, hammer, nuts and bolts, and a screwdriver with screws.

  ‘Hah, this is brilliant!’

  ‘All edible,’ Emma announced. She had seen the moulds online and knew that was just the thing for Max, who owned his own building company. It had taken a while to get the silver-metallic finish just right, but she was pleased with the end result.

  ‘Wow, I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s so cool. I’m gonna have to show the lads at work. Thank you.’ He beamed at her. ‘I love it.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  He leant across to give her the most tender kiss – an embrace that promised so much more.

  ‘We have no rush this morning,’ she hinted. ‘I’m not opening the shop today.’ After three weeks of manic build-up, creating chocolate eggs of all shapes and sizes, filled chocolate bonnets, moulded Easter chicks and bunnies, she was more than ready for a day off – a rare treat. Running your own business meant long hours, and busy days.

  ‘Hmmn, no rush at all then. So, I’m going to make love to you very, very slowly indeed.’

  Em felt her whole body tingle just at the thought of it.

  ‘And … I might even find a use for that chocolate spanner,’ he added jokingly, with such a wickedly naughty grin on his face, that the pair of them dissolved into laughter.

  Making love in the morning left you with a warm glow for the rest of the day. There had been no rush for Emma and Max to be out early, but there were two special chocolate Easter eggs she had yet to deliver to her twin nieces who lived nearby. They arrived late morning at her brother James’s house, which was in a small hamlet in the countryside outside the market town of Alnwick, a twenty-minute drive away through pretty country lanes.

  After the annual Easter egg trail in the back garden for the girls, which had now become a bit of a tradition (and who better to bring the most delicious chocolate eggs than Auntie Emma?), they were chatting in the family kitchen over tea and simnel cake, with Easter ‘nests’ the girls had made themselves with lots of chocolate, cereal and mini eggs.

  ‘Uncle Max, do you like my chick?’ Lucy asked.

  Emma had lovingly crafted two large and very cute chocolate Easter chicks, which had been the grand finale of the trail. They even had bow ties on – one red and spotty, the other yellow-striped.

  ‘He’s rather fabulous, isn’t he? Do you think it is a he?’ Max asked, noting with a smile that there was a large chunk of chocolate missing already from the back of his head.

  ‘Oh, yes. Of course.’

  ‘Mine’s a girl,’ Olivia piped up. ‘I’m going to call her Flick.’

  ‘Flick, the chick. That’s a cool name,’ Max said, grinning.

  Max was a natural with the children, so at ease chatting away with them, despite having no nieces or nephews of his own. Lucy had started calling him Uncle Max soon after Christmas, when Emma had only been seeing him for a few months, and it had stuck. He seemed very much a part of Emma’s family already.

  ‘So, how’s the shop going, Em?’ Chloe, her sister-in-law, asked.

  ‘It’s been really hectic in the run-up to Easter, but that’s good. And I’m managing to keep up with the rent payments okay for now, so that’s a bit of a relief.’ There had been issues with a huge rent hike the year before, but Emma was managing to keep the wolf of a landlord from the door at the moment. The new café area was proving popular and her Chocolate Shop by the Sea was doing well; it certainly kept her busy.

  ‘That’s good news, Em. Glad to hear it. Anyone for a top-up?’ Chloe got up from the table where she’d been sitting with Emma and busied herself with the kettle and teapot.

  The two men were standing chatting by the French windows that led to the garden. They were talking work too.

  ‘The accountancy practice has been full on lately,’ James, her brother, was saying, ‘what with the end of the financial year coming up. You?’

  ‘Yeah, lots on for me at the moment,’ Max replied. ‘Things have really picked up in the building industry again. New houses going up, conversions, all sorts. In fact, I’ve just been offered a great project down in Leeds.’

  Emma’s ears pricked up – it was the first she’d heard of this.

  ‘Converting a warehouse into apartments, right by the side of one of the canals. The job’s worth a lot of money and sounds really interesting. I like working with original buildings, but then that has its problems too, and it’ll mean I’ll be travelling and being away quite a bit. Gotta go where the business is, though.’

  ‘Too right.’

  Well, thanks for letting me know about this, Emma mused, feeling a little disgruntled that he hadn’t thought to tell her first. It was hard enough finding time to spend together as it was, with both of them running their own businesses.

  ‘Uncle Max, can you come and play dens with us?’ Lucy interrupted.

  The girls had a Wendy house all set up in the lounge.

  ‘Yes, Uncle Max.’ Olivia was on the case too.

  ‘Okay, okay. Just give me five minutes to finish my tea.’

  ‘O-kay.’

  It always made Emma laugh seeing him trying to squeeze his well-built frame into the tiny tent-like play zone. He was often the ‘giant’ in whatever scene they were playing. And off he went, escorted by two five-year-olds to the play den, one holding each hand. He gave a mock look of horror to Emma, but she knew he didn’t mind. Hah, they might even get to paint his fingernails again. They had once before, in alternate colours of pink and silver, and he had begged Em to go to the village grocer’s for some remover, before he set off to work the next day. ‘I look like Eddie Izzard or something,’ he’d muttered. ‘I’ll never survive the ribbing from the lads if I don’t get rid.’

  Em chatted with James and Chloe, catching up on her brother’s recent visit to her parents – she hadn’t had a chance to call across herself with the shop being so busy lately – whilst Max kept the girls happily occupied. She peeked into the lounge at one point to find them putting hair clips in his hair, which was a challenge with it being so short. They stayed for another half hour or so after Max managed to escape the den, chatting over a glass of wine, and then set off back to Warkton-by-the-Sea.

  ‘Max …’ Emma said in her car on the way home, ‘I couldn’t help but hear you and James talking earlier. Why hadn’t you told me about the job in Leeds?’ It had been simmering away in her mind. She concentrated on her steering as she reached a sharp bend in the country lane. Her fingers tensed.

  ‘I was going to – it just didn’t seem right last night when I’d only just got there. I wanted to relax and have a nice evening. I would have said something tonight.’

  ‘Oh. Well, with you away more, will I still get to see you?’ They only managed to snatch days together at the weekends as it was.

  She sounded needy, she knew, and hated that. But she was just getting used to being in a relationship again, had only just let someone back into her heart. It felt odd, like a loss of independence, life had been a lot simpler for all those years on her own.

  Simpler, but rather lonely, something inside reminded her.

  Ah, relationships, they made you feel out of control, fuzzy at the edges somehow. Hah, that’s when they didn’t rip you apart.

  To be fair on Max, working six days a week herself and also a Sunday afternoon at busy times, didn’t help matters. It was hard for both of them, with their homes an hour apart, leading different and hectic working lives. It was sometimes a miracle they had time to meet up at all. But the alternative, no Max, she didn’t like to think of that.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out like that.’ His green eyes gazing across the car at her were caring, his gentle smile honest.

  How could she stay cross with him? ‘Ah, it’s okay.’ Her tone softened. Through the windscreen, the metallic blue of the sea came into view as they
approached her village. She was more annoyed at herself for beginning to rely on him being there. She knew he had to be back at work early tomorrow, leaving her bed in the early hours and she didn’t want to spoil this evening. She had plans for them to walk on the beach with Alfie, before a cosy supper, a seat for two on the sofa by the fire, then hopefully making love once more. Having Max in her life was so much better than having him out of it.

  3

  ‘How’s sexy lover boy, then?’

  ‘Morning, Bev.’ Thank goodness there were no customers in as yet. Em felt her cheeks tingle with a blush.

  ‘So,’ her friend continued angling, ‘good weekend?’

  ‘Yes, thanks … very good. And yes, Max did come up.’

  Bev’s eyebrows arched cheekily. ‘Hmm,’ was all she uttered with a daft grin on her face.

  ‘… to stay.’ Emma completed the phrase, shaking her head.

  ‘Ah, if only I wasn’t already married!’ Bev was still grinning away. She loved teasing Emma. ‘Now I know why you were all ice maiden for six years: I think I would have been too if I knew that was the prize at the end of it.’

  ‘O-kay, enough!’ Yes, so Max was pretty good-looking, but really, despite being her best friend ever since her arrival in Warkton-by-the-Sea, Bev could sometimes take things a little too far. But still, the conversation had made her smile, she conceded.

  ‘Right, what do you need help with this morning, boss?’ Bev asked cheerily.

  ‘Well, I’d like to crack on in the kitchen with making some more ganaches and truffles. It’ll be a nice change from Easter eggs and that’ll replenish the stocks for the refrigerated counter. I fancy doing some Irish Cream truffles and trying out some new Red Velvet ones. I thought I might experiment with that flavour.’

  ‘Ooh, they sound nice. I am prepared to sacrifice my waistline to test any new chocolates out, you know.’

  ‘That’s no surprise. So, if you can just keep an eye on the shop and café whilst I’m in the back kitchen, I promise to bring through a couple to try once they are made.’

  ‘Can’t wait. We can test them out with morning coffee.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘Oh, Em. I’ve brought in some miniature daffodils from my garden for the posy vases on the tables.’

  ‘Aw, thanks. That’ll cheer things up in here.’ It was a grey old day outside, the April sky heavy with cloud and the threat of rain. But hey-ho, it might just make a cosy chocolate shop café even more appealing to the tourists on their Easter holiday break.

  The shelves behind Bev were stacked with chocolate bars in many flavours, packs of chocolate-dipped fudge, a counter with truffles and melt-in-your-mouth ganaches, moulded lollipops with puffins and teddy bears on, a few remaining Easter chicks and bunnies, and lots more. Emma loved the chance to change the selections by season and special holidays. Now the displays were brightly coloured for spring and Easter, with gift boxes in gold and white, and pretty cellophane packs with curls of ribbons in pinks, blues, greens and yellows.

  Despite the grey skies outside, spring was very much in the air. The season of hope, new life and second chances.

  There was a lull just after eleven and Emma made coffee for herself and Bev.

  ‘Coffee time,’ she called, bringing through a tray with a cafetière of coffee on, as well as a small plate with a selection of choc-chip shortbread, the new Red Velvet ganaches, and a couple of other chocolates to try.

  ‘Oh my, I think I’m actually going to drool.’ Bev’s eyes lit up. ‘How did I get so lucky as to work in a chocolate shop, with my bestie, no less?’ The novelty of helping out at The Chocolate Shop still delighted Bev. She also worked a couple of mornings as a receptionist at the doctors’ surgery in the next village, which had been her job for many years, but now she was also helping her friend, and this didn’t feel like work at all.

  They settled themselves on stools to the side of the counter.

  ‘Now these are lemon meringue cups, and the new red velvet, and there’s a strawberries-and-cream bar in white chocolate that I’ve broken up to try. I’ll put some out as tasters on the counter shortly.’

  Bev dived straight in, taking a bite of a lemon cup. ‘Oh wow, delicious!’

  Em poured out the coffee, its rich aroma filling the shop.

  ‘I’ve been thinking …’ Bev started.

  ‘Now that could be dangerous!’

  ‘Hah.’ Bev looked indignant.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, you remember what a success your launch night for the chocolate café was? With all the chocolate and bubbly we had. And you’re always looking for ways to improve the shop, and bring in more money, of course …’

  ‘Ye-es.’ Em wondered where this might be going.

  ‘Well, what about prosecco-and-chocolate nights? Girlie nights, celebrations, that type of thing.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Emma sipped her coffee. ‘You might just be on to something there.’

  ‘Well, I’d love to go to something like that, so would lots of my friends, I’m sure. Something a bit different from going out into town or to the local pubs and clubs, getting pushed about in a crowd, your toes stood on and lager spilled down your back. Yes, chocolate nights in.’

  ‘Interesting … I know there’s all sorts of legal implications to consider for being licenced to serve alcohol for the prosecco, but I might just look into it. In fact, I think it could work well.’ Emma was always open to new ways to expand the business and protect her Chocolate Shop’s future. ‘Yes, I can picture it now. Hen do’s, small parties, birthdays. Maybe we could do a hands-on truffle-making session too, as part of the party.’ Her mind was on a roll now. ‘My cocktail-based ones might work well. The Pimm’s chocolate cups I did last summer, or the Pina Colada or Mojito truffles.’

  ‘Ooh, yes. Sounds brilliant. Of course, being my idea, it will be.’

  Emma took a sip of coffee. ‘Hmm, I’m liking it, Mrs Walker. You might well be on to something. I’ll do some research. An extra string to The Chocolate Shop’s bow can only be a good thing. Whilst we’re going along nice and steady at the moment, who knows what’s around the corner?’ She remembered only too well the rent hike of last year, and her greedy landlord, Mr Neil, was always waiting in the wings. But more than that, it sounded a really lovely thing to do.

  With that, the shop door chimed, and in came old Mrs Clark, one of their regulars. The elderly lady was well wrapped up in her coat and scarf, but she looked a little more stooped lately, and her face a little paler than usual.

  Emma stood up to greet her. ‘Morning, Mrs C, and how are you today?’

  ‘Not so bad, Emma, not so bad.’ It was as though she was trying to convince herself. ‘Mind, that hill up’s a bit of a bugger. Gets steeper every time.’ Mrs Clark loved the ‘B’ word and used it prolifically. It always made Emma smile.

  ‘Well, come and have a seat, Mrs C. What can we get for you? The usual coffee? We have some nice chocolate cake, freshly made too, if you fancy?’

  ‘Just a cup of coffee, pet. That’ll be grand. And how are you two ladies?’ Mrs Clark settled herself into one of the window seats, placing her large handbag beside her and removing her woollen coat and patterned head scarf.

  ‘Good thanks,’ answered Bev. ‘We’re planning prosecco parties.’

  ‘My, that sounds fun. That’s what you young ones should be doing, having fun. Life’s too short not to enjoy it. We had some good parties in our time. I remember the old tea dances down at the village hall. Me and my Jim, back when we were courting – those were the days.’ Her grey-green eyes seemed to light up with the memories, then she smiled and sighed all at once.

  ‘Go on, tell me about it back then, Mrs C,’ Bev took up.

  ‘I’ll just go and fetch your coffee, Mrs Clark. Won’t be a minute,’ said Emma, knowing the story would still be in full flow on her return.

  ‘Thanks, pet.’

  ‘Well then, I do remember one of the tea dances in particular. I wasn’t sup
posed to be going out that night at all as my dad was still cross. You see, I’d been out with Jim to the pictures in Alnwick two days before, and somehow we’d missed the eight-fifteen bus home.’

  Bev was nodding, enjoying the story. She liked to hear about the village in the old days.

  ‘Well,’ Mrs C continued, ‘if truth be told, I think we’d spent far too long kissing round the back of the picture house after the film. Lost track of time. Of course, there were no mobile phones, not even many telephone boxes back then, to let my parents know. Well, my dad was all burnt up with anger when I got back.’

  ‘Ah, he was probably just worried.’

  ‘Yes, but you don’t think the same when you’re young and in love. That was it, he said I wasn’t allowed out for another week. And warned me never to be late again.’

  Emma returned with a cafetière of fresh coffee that gave off a gorgeous aroma. She’d popped a mini chocolate brownie on the side of Mrs C’s coffee cup for good measure.

  ‘Well then, my Jim had other plans. Little did I know he’d been planning a special night. He’d gone to call on my dad without me knowing – one, to apologise and two, to ask for something else.’

  ‘Ooh, and what was that?’

  ‘Suddenly, it all changed and I was allowed to go, my mother making a big fuss over my dress choice, which wasn’t like her at all. Well …’ The old lady grinned, her eyes twinkly at the memory. ‘He only went down on one knee in the middle of the dance floor. Oh, I still remember that so well, the band were playing Buddy Holly’s “True Love Ways”. Jim had asked for it specially, it was one of my favourites. I said “yes” straight away, of course.’

  ‘Aw, that’s such a lovely story,’ Em smiled.

  ‘True love, hey, Mrs C,’ Bev added.

  ‘Ay, those were the days.’

  4

  Even when you fall in love with someone new, you never stop loving and thinking of that first person – not when they had died only a few months before you were due to be married.