The Cosy Seaside Chocolate Shop Read online

  ‘Oh, right.’ Em looked up to see them staring in at her. Her heart plummeted, but all she could do was take a deep breath, serve her customers and steel herself ready for the viewing.

  The couple walked in. The man had short grey hair, a whiskery beard and glasses and was smiling. The lady was tall and slim, dark – most likely dyed – hair in a bob, cool blue eyes and a tight-set mouth. They looked in their fifties. Emma wondered if they could ever love her shop as much as she did.

  ‘Hello, we’re Mr and Mrs Wilton.’ They looked slightly awkward, but the gentleman did offer his hand to shake, which Emma took.

  ‘Hi, I’m Emma. Emma Carter. So …’ Deep breath. ‘You’re here to look around the property?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well then, let’s start with the shop and ground-floor kitchen and move on from there.’

  It was a heart-wrenching process, showing these potential owners around room by room. Seeing her life, her home, her work on display for public perusal.

  There were lots of ‘Ums’ and ‘Ahs’ and ‘Rights’ – they weren’t giving much away. But when the woman said she’d convert the shop back to a lounge area, Em had a sudden urge to slap her. Maybe she should have insisted the estate agent take the viewing after all. But part of her wanted to check out the future owners too; not that she had any control over who Mr Neil sold to, but she wanted to see if they’d at least appreciate the shop’s character, her little flat’s charm, and if they would be the sort to treasure it and look after it in the coming years. Not be ripping it out room by room to make it into an open-plan box for holiday hire, which she suspected was this couple’s motivation. It seemed they had no intention of keeping it as a business or indeed living there themselves.

  ‘Oh no, no,’ the woman said at one point. ‘We have a house over at Alnmouth. Lots of space and light there. No, this is just an investment for us; property here in Warkton is rising at such a rate and it would make such a cute little holiday hire,’ she added coolly, with the undertones of ‘although it was fine for holidaymakers, who would actually want to live in a place like this?’

  Mrs Wilton actually tutted at the galley-style kitchen upstairs. That was going to get ripped out straight away, apparently. Em hoped Alfie might growl at this point from his bed, but all he did was wag his tail excitedly at seeing new visitors, the traitor.

  Hopefully the couple would decide there was too much to alter to make it work as a holiday cottage and go and find somewhere else, Emma mused. She couldn’t help but comment that it seemed an awful lot of work they were planning. Twenty minutes later she saw them off at the shop’s front door. She watched the couple walk down the hill, give a last glance back at the property, then put their heads together, deep in conversation. Em sighed heavily. She could feel pressure squeezing into a headache across her brow. There were still customers in, but as Emma reached the counter she whispered under her breath, ‘Tossers’ just loud enough for Bev to hear.

  ‘Yeah, thought as much,’ her friend replied with a wry smile. ‘Hopefully they won’t be interested in putting an offer in.’

  ‘Fingers crossed.’

  Well, it was no good moping about, she’d hear one way or another in the next few days. And if not them, then there would be someone else. All she could do was get on with her work, keep saving as much money as she could in the meanwhile in case she had to find somewhere else to rent quickly, and try and keep her options open. She’d looked seriously into her finances and sadly there was no way she’d be able to afford a deposit on a business mortgage to purchase the shop herself, so she had registered on some property rental websites but finding the ideal chocolate shop in the nearby area was proving to be like finding a needle in a haystack. In fact, the only thing she knew was that she was already in the perfect place. And it would be oh-so-hard to leave.

  At least Max was coming to see her that evening, the one silver lining in all the dark grey clouds of the past few days. Maybe they could go and relax with a drink down at the pub before supper back at Emma’s, and perhaps Holly and Adam might join them there. The lads seemed to get on quite well and it looked like it was going to be a lovely evening. They could sit in the beer garden and watch the boats bobbing in the harbour and just chill out and chat for a while. That sounded a plan. She’d phone Holly straight away.

  When Max arrived later, Emma was in the middle of crafting a batch of creme brûlée chocolate cups. The time had flown by, what with the hospital visit this morning and the property viewing, so she was busy trying to stock up her shelves again.

  ‘Hey, beautiful.’ Max had come in by the back door and was beaming at her.

  ‘Hi, gorgeous.’

  He gave her a big hug in the middle of the shop’s kitchen, lifting her up into the air.

  It felt so good there in his arms, breathing in his gorgeous aftershave scent. ‘Missed you,’ she said.

  ‘You too. How was Mrs C?’

  ‘She’s had major surgery on her hip last night. Very sore today, bless her. But in pretty good spirits considering.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  Em was still holding a spatula in one hand, her crème brûlée ingredients ready to mix whilst her chocolate cups were cooling.

  ‘Sorry, this has taken a little longer than anticipated,’ Em explained. ‘This afternoon was so busy in the shop and I had that bloody viewing to contend with. I’ll just need another half hour or so to get these finished.’

  ‘No worries. How did the viewing go, Em? Must have been hard for you.’

  ‘Yeah, it was. It really got to me, more than I thought it would, but what the hell can I do? It’s not my shop to keep. And this couple have no intention of running it as a shop in any way. Holiday cottage material. Needs gutting. That was the impression I was left with. Argh, it made my blood boil. They didn’t seem to like it that much, from all the negative comments the woman kept spouting, so who knows, they may not even get to the offer stage.’

  ‘Oh dear. Sorry, Em.’

  ‘Let’s move off the subject. So, tonight: I wondered about walking down to The Fisherman’s for a drink before supper. Adam and Holly are keen on coming down too, just for a while. Though Holly won’t be there until a bit later – her mum’s taken her to Newcastle for a bit of shopping as a reward for all the hard studying she did for her A-level exams. Think she’s feeling a bit nervous – it’s a long wait for the results.’

  ‘Yeah, I bet. I hated exams. Far happier building with bricks.’ His gorgeous grin was back. ‘In fact, if you are busy here a while, and Holly’s going to be coming a bit later too, I might just give Adam a ring, see if he’s finished his shift yet. We might sneak a quick half pint in before you girls join us. If you don’t mind, that is?’

  ‘Sure, you may as well. That’ll give me a chance to crack on here – I’ll just be half an hour.’

  Emma was humming away happily when Max left five minutes later, having organised meeting up with Adam. She was looking forward to a lovely evening.

  37

  Max and Adam were sitting opposite each other on a bench in The Fisherman’s Arms beer garden. They’d chatted about work, and Adam admitted how Holly was a bit stressed out lately. ‘It’s waiting for those exam results,’ he commented. ‘She’s so keen to have done well.’

  ‘Ah, it’s understandable.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m trying to support her, but she’s the one who had to do all the studying, at the end of the day. And then,’ he sounded a bit down, ‘if she’s got the results she needs she’ll be off soon with a whole new world and future ahead of her.’

  ‘She wants to train to be a midwife, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Good for her.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Adam’s answer was brief – there seemed to be a lot more unsaid.

  Nate was on shift and turned up clearing glasses at the next table. Max nodded an acknowledgement, Nate did the same back.

  ‘He’s still here, then,’ Max commented. ‘Funny, Emm
a hasn’t mentioned him at all lately. Not seen him about when I’ve been up here either. He used to call in the shop a bit, but I suppose I’ve been pretty busy and away a lot.’

  Adam looked troubled, then admitted, ‘Can’t stand the guy.’

  ‘Why, what’s he done?’ Max wondered if he’d been hitting on Holly. He seemed to like chatting the girls up from behind the bar.

  There was an awkward silence.

  Adam took a deep breath, ‘Look, mate … about Nate … just be careful okay.’

  ‘What do you mean? Has something been going on?’

  ‘Ah, maybe I shouldn’t say any more – but if it was me, I’d appreciate the truth.’

  ‘What are you trying to say, Adam? Come on, mate. Spill.’

  ‘Okay, it might be nothing. But a few weeks ago … that night there was a BBQ, when you were away …?’

  Max could feel the back of his neck prickling. He had a feeling that he really didn’t want to hear this, yet he had to know.

  ‘Well, the thing is … me and Holly were walking back up from the beach. It was late, everyone else had gone.’

  ‘What? What happened?’

  ‘Okay, we saw him with Emma.’

  ‘And …?’

  Adam took a second, then said, ‘They were kissing.’

  ‘He was kissing Emma? You sure?’ Max looked shocked. His hand clenched around his glass as though he might just crush it.

  ‘Look, there may have been a drink too many involved or something. Emma did seem a bit tipsy as we left. And I hate to be the one to tell you, mate. But if it were Holly … well, I’d want to know.’

  Adam’s voice was fading in Max’s head. The bastard. The sodding bastard.

  Max stood up. Nate was still there, clearing tables. Max strode across, picked him up by the scruff of his T-shirt and raised him into the air, so they were eye to eye. Nate was dangling with several pint glasses precariously balanced in one hand. ‘You little piece of scum! You leave Emma alone.’ The words were forceful.

  Nate stayed silent at first. He had no doubt that he deserved this. He didn’t know how to begin to explain his actions with Emma. All he managed was a feeble ‘Sorry mate’, which came out slightly strangled as he was held in Max’s grip. He waited for the punch that would inevitably follow.

  Max’s fists tingled, but there was a family sitting out in the garden just a few metres away from them. He placed the little piece of shit back on the ground. Jesus, any man who’d take advantage of their dead brother’s girlfriend wasn’t worth fighting with anyway – though it might well have given Max a great deal of satisfaction to punch his lights out.

  But what hurt more … That massive sense of disappointment he felt wasn’t with Nate, it was with Emma. And it made Max feel sick.

  Max walked back over to Adam. ‘Sorry, mate, but I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Yeah, understood. No worries. Just shout if you need anything, okay.’

  But Max was already away. The ring that was safely stowed in the jeweller’s box in his pocket now felt as if it was burning a hole in his palm.

  Emma looked up out of the kitchen window to see Max striding back across the courtyard. He’d only been gone about twenty minutes and she’d thought she was meeting him down there. He looked stiff, angry almost. Emma smiled. He didn’t smile back.

  He walked right in. Emma was washing up, having just finished the chocolates.

  ‘Max?’ There was definitely something up.

  Two heartbeats of silence.

  And then she knew, even before he spoke.

  ‘I can’t believe it, Em. Is it true? Ah shit, it has to be true. Adam wouldn’t make something like this up.’

  ‘What is it, Max?’ She knew, but was clinging onto one last shred of hope, that there was some other reason for his anger, some other annoyance they could get back from.

  ‘Come on, Em. Don’t play the innocent. Your lying just makes it even worse. Holly and Adam saw you.’

  Emma just nodded and bit her lip as the tears crammed her eyes. ‘Yes, it’s true. I did kiss Nathan. But—’

  ‘Fuck.’ He seemed to double up in pain.

  ‘Max, please. It was just a silly, crazy moment. I think he reminded me so much of Luke … I’m sorry. So sorry. It didn’t mean anything.’

  ‘I thought this, us … I thought what we had was special. I thought it was love, Em. I was ready to give you everything.’ He paused.

  ‘It is special. I do love you, Max.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it. This isn’t love.’

  ‘I had a couple of drinks, Max. I regretted it straight away. It was a huge mistake.’

  ‘That’s one thing you’ve got right, Em. This is one huge mistake.’

  ‘Max, I’m sorry.’

  The anger subsided, but instead he looked at her blankly. He appeared almost numb.

  ‘Sorry isn’t enough, is it?’ She knew she had pressed the self-destruct button on their relationship.

  ‘No, Em. I can’t just ignore this.’

  With that he turned and walked out of the door.

  And she knew that whatever she said wouldn’t bring him back.

  38

  There was nothing else for it than to have a good old cry. It wasn’t often that Emma caved in to tears, but after the couple of days she’d just had, and now this … losing Max over some silly moment of madness that was all her own bloody fault.

  She couldn’t blame him. After all, how would she have felt seeing him kiss Siobhan now, his ex-girlfriend who he’d lived with for over two years, or hearing about that? It would devastate her. It was the loss of trust, that was what shattered everything.

  Emma had gone upstairs after Max had walked out, intending to make a cup of tea, and found herself slumped on the galley kitchen floor, hugging Alfie, with big snotty tears running down her face.

  She knew she could ring Bev, or Holly, for a chat – oh my, Holly and Adam had seen it all – and yes, she’d have to confess to Bev what had happened. But right now, all she wanted to do was to curl up into a ball. It was like a physical pain in her gut. Had she really lost Max forever?

  He was wrong though, it was love. She’d just made a mistake. One mistake. She was surer of that than she was of anything. She’d ring him, explain. Not tonight. She knew he was feeling too raw, let down. But tomorrow. She’d have to try and get through to him. She felt marginally better with that thought.

  She forced herself to get up off the floor and, with her mind still spinning, went for a walk with Alfie. She headed away from the village on a path that led through country fields, hoping not to bump into anyone she knew. Her eyes were still red and swollen. Walking helped her lose herself, even amongst the heartache, on a path that led through fields of golden barley swaying in a soft summer evening breeze. The countryside was beautiful where it ran down to the coast and Alfie happily scampered on, stopping here and there to sniff something of interest.

  Dusk was settling with soft-pink and deep-grey hues as she got back home to The Chocolate Shop. She wondered if that couple would put in a bid, if she might get the call tomorrow, along with her one month’s notice. No point worrying until it happened, she told herself, giving Alfie a gentle stroke before taking off his lead.

  There were chocolates to make, brownies to bake, but she just felt totally shattered, spent. The last few weeks had been a very bumpy emotional rollercoaster. She gave in to her weariness and decided she’d set the alarm for early tomorrow and start afresh. She had an early night after forcing herself to eat a couple of cheese crackers, which was all she could stomach. And she lay thinking of Max, who was no doubt feeling rotten in his own bed forty miles away. She’d do anything to put things right between them. She had to let him know that. She couldn’t lose another love, not this way.

  39

  The next morning, after five phone calls that went straight to answerphone, two voice messages and three unanswered texts, Em decided to give Max a break. If he wasn’t
ready to talk, then fair enough. She knew when to leave alone. He might just need a little time.

  She settled down to work in the kitchen, getting herself organised before opening time. The brownies were made, including some new caramel swirl ones, and she was about to create a batch of Eton Mess truffles, as well as her Pimm’s specials. Summer was in full flight here in Warkton, and Emma liked to reflect that in her chocolate flavours. Mind you, the weather wasn’t actually playing ball today with it being overcast and drizzly, but hey ho. And every cloud had a silver lining, as it would probably mean the tourists would be looking for a nice little cosy café to spend some time in, and she’d be busy. She needed to keep busy.

  Just before ten there was a call; Emma felt a lift of hope until she saw it was from Pete, Bev’s husband.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi Emma, I’ve been chatting with the village committee and, I’m not sure if you’ve already heard, but we’ve got plans to put on a Summer Food Festival over the August Bank Holiday here in Warkton. A kind of celebration and a chance to showcase our local food and drink. I already have The Rock Shop and The Fisherman’s Arms interested as well as The Smokery. And The Hepple Gin Company are keen to get involved too. What do you think, might it work for you? Would you consider taking a stall?’

  ‘Wow I’m flattered, it sounds a great idea, and good for business. I might have to be careful if it’s a hot day, mind, with chocolates, but I’ll have a think about what will work best. The fudge would be fine. Hmm, I could maybe get a freezer rigged up so I could do some homemade chocolate ice cream in cones.’ She’d been experimenting lately and was refining the perfect chocolate chunk ice cream. It might be the ideal time to showcase it.

  ‘Mmm, I’m drooling already. Enough.’

  ‘Hah, you’re as bad as your wife.’

  ‘We can’t help being chocoholics. But that’s great that you might want to be involved. We’d love you to be there. So, we’re having a meeting in a few days’ time to firm up plans, drum up some more publicity ideas and engage a few more stallholders, but I think the idea’s proving popular already.’