The Cosy Seaside Chocolate Shop Read online

  ‘Oh.’ She was a bit shocked. Why was he doing that? In fact, could he just go ahead and do that? There must be laws on all this. But then, he was the landlord. ‘Can I ask why?’

  ‘Just keeping my options open.’ He gave a thin smile. ‘I’ll get the formal paperwork on that to you shortly. Good day.’ He turned on his well-polished heel.

  It was obvious further questions were not going to get her anywhere.

  Emma felt her heart sink as he left. Holly started doing a mock throwing-up gesture behind the counter.

  ‘Ugh, can’t stand the man. He is such an eel.’ Holly’s nickname had stuck. ‘Makes my skin crawl. Can’t we ban him?’

  ‘Hah, don’t think so as he owns the place, Holly.’

  ‘Well, that’s a bloody shame.’

  7

  News of the monthly contract was spinning around in Emma’s mind all day after that. Max was away all this week through to Saturday evening, getting the new project in Leeds off the ground but as soon as the shop was closed and Holly had gone home, Emma knew she needed someone to chat it over with. She found herself sitting on a stool in the back kitchen, surrounded by large bags of chocolate callets and moulds ready to fill, but she knew she couldn’t settle to crafting yet. She picked up her mobile and dialled Max.

  ‘Hey,’ he answered in soothing tones.

  It was lovely just to hear his voice.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Something up?’

  How could he tell that from just one word? But over the past months, they had grown closer and were getting to know each other well.

  ‘Yeah …’ Her voice gave a little waver. ‘Oh, Max, Mr Neil’s been in. You know, the landlord of the shop.’

  ‘Ah, yes.’

  ‘There’s definitely something going on. He’s changing the contract for the shop to a month-by-month lease only. So, I don’t even know if I’ll get to stay here for the whole of this year. Do you think he’s planning on selling or something?’ Emma felt sick just thinking about that possibility.

  ‘Hmm, I don’t like to say it, but it sounds likely, Em. Or at least he’s keeping his options open to do that. He might also have a new rental in mind, where he intends charging a lot more. Sorry, Em. What a bummer for you.’

  ‘I know. I’ve been feeling dreadful ever since he was in this morning, worrying about it all.’ She felt fragile, vulnerable. How could she lose her Chocolate Shop? It was more than just a business, it was her home, her life. It had kept her going through the hardest of times, given her a purpose in life again.

  ‘Ah, Jeez. I’m sorry I’m so far away right now, Em.’

  ‘I know. Me too. I miss you.’ It was at times like this that she wished he didn’t have to travel miles away for work, that he lived nearer and could just pop in. Boy, she could do with his big strong arms around her right now.

  ‘There’s a virtual hug coming down the phone.’

  Aw, he knew exactly how she was feeling. ‘Thanks, Max … but somehow it’s not quite the same.’

  ‘I know, babe. I’ll be back with you soon. Saturday night.’

  ‘Yeah.’ A few more days to get through. She’d been on her own and got along fine for years. Weird that after meeting and getting to know Max, just days could seem such a long time.

  ‘I can take you out for some supper then – or maybe a night in with a takeaway would be better. Me, you, Alfie, a bottle of wine and fish and chips from the pub. What do you think?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I can’t wait.’ A cosy night in together sounded perfect.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry Em, but I’d better go. We’re just trying to get wrapped up here on site for this evening.’

  ‘Me too. I have a stack of chocolates to make.’ Flavoured choc bars, lemon-meringue truffles and dark chocolate coffee cups were awaiting her attention.

  ‘I love you.’ Max said.

  Aw. ‘Love you too,’ she answered.

  It was good knowing that she had Max for support, even if he was miles away right now.

  As she put down the phone, she knew she needed to think practically and to plan for the worst. What if she really did have to leave these premises? She’d have to start keeping an eye out for other properties, but where might be suitable? Warkton-by-the-Sea was a small village so she knew there was nothing else vacant like her shop. It was so ideal here, and all the renovations and work she’d had done just last year … She let out a long, slow sigh. All her plans for this season, the prosecco parties, the summer ahead … She couldn’t begin to imagine leaving this place.

  ‘Right, Emma Carter. These chocolates will not make themselves. Get to work,’ she rallied herself. She began to pour dark chocolate callets into a stainless steel bowl ready for tempering. She’d craft by hand tonight, leave the tempering machine which she used at busy times sleeping, it’d keep her active and take her mind off her troubles.

  The next morning, after a troubled sleep, Emma was up early. It was a bright and sunny late-April day. She took a large mug of coffee and a warm chocolate croissant that she’d just made and went to sit outside in the back-yard area behind the shop. Alfie lay down beside her feet, hoping to catch a crumb or two.

  It was pretty there, a walled courtyard with cream flagstones as a patio. She had a little table and two chairs set up and there were flower pots of varying sizes, now full of bold pink and yellow tulips and the last of the spring daffodils, and a rambling rose took up the side of one wall. In summer the rose was a mass of ballerina-pink delicate blooms. The sun was just peeping over the wall, lighting her corner of the yard, but the whole area caught the sunshine through the afternoon. It was such a nice place to sit, to relax.

  A thought began forming in her mind: maybe her customers would like that too. A sunny space to serve her café customers during the spring and summer. A courtyard café, full of chocolate cake, milkshakes, ice creams and more. But then, after her landlord’s ominous visit, would she still be here? Would Mr Neil have his way and hand in her notice on the lease at any time? But she couldn’t just give in and give up on a maybe. And she’d need every penny she could get if the rent was about to go up again, because she might be competing with some other party interested in taking over her shop. If she was going to go down, she’d go down bloody fighting.

  Yes, it should be fairly easy to get some more outdoor furniture. She could look around a few house clearances, car boot sales, ask around. So, she couldn’t afford new, but with a splash of paint, and some TLC … She began to feel the stirrings of hope. She needed to believe there was still a future for her here. The alternative was just too horrid.

  She finished her croissant, giving Alfie the last buttery corner and a pat on the head.

  ‘It might just work, Alfie. What do you think?’

  They just had time to take a walk down to the beach before opening. Emma grabbed Alfie’s lead and popped a couple of dog biscuits in her pocket. It was a beautiful morning, a day not to be wasted, and her head had been so full of stuff last night, it might help settle her mood. The future of the shop in the balance, Mr Neil’s visit, that strange tourist who may or may not have looked like Luke – she’d never find out now – and these new thoughts of making a courtyard café area: it was all spinning about in her mind like a kaleidoscope.

  They headed out through the back gate, around to the main street of quaint stone cottages, down the hill to the small harbour where a few fishing boats bobbed on a gentle sea and a couple of seagulls swooped in the morning sky. It was still quite early, so apart from a delivery van and its driver who gave her a friendly nod outside the grocer’s, she didn’t see anyone she knew. The harbour was quiet nowadays, the fishing fleet down to just five boats – so different from the tales of ‘back in the day’ from old Mrs Clark when she was a little girl, when there had apparently been up to twenty, most of them going out to catch the herring, the ‘silver darlings’ as the older generation of villagers had called them, that they brought back to smoke and make into kippers in the smokehouses.<
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  Emma would sometimes let her mind wander to the harsh realities of the Warkton-by-the-Sea fisherfolk and theirs lives onshore and at sea decades ago. The men having to leave their wives and children back home to head out on perilous seas. The women mending the nets and trying to keep warm, holding it all together to keep a family fed. Emma enjoyed Mrs Clark’s tales, and was often drawn in by the sepia photos of village life that still lined the walls of The Fisherman’s Arms. The sea was as much a part of this place as the land.

  The fishing boats still brought in some herring and there were crabs, scallops and occasionally langoustines and in the summer season the lobster pots would be set out on their lines. Today, a couple of the cobles had been pulled up on the shore with their colourful nets and lobster pots beside them. The hull of an old rowing boat had been made into a lovely flower display down by the harbour too. It was such a pretty spot.

  Emma and Alfie carried on towards the dunes. They soon emerged from the sandy track on to the crescent-shaped bay where the colours of sand and sea were a wash of blues, greys and ochre and the sky still held a blush of early-morning pink and peach. The sun was beginning to warm and waves frothed to shore, the surf gentle today in a light late-spring breeze. She picked up a driftwood stick and launched it for Alfie, who dived after it into the breakers. Being a spaniel, he loved the water, and was a good swimmer. He soon returned with the stick in his jaws to shake an arc of salty droplets around him, spraying her lightly, which made her smile. It was calming down there on the beach – a leveller. Whatever worries you had didn’t seem quite so bad somehow, diminished as they were against the vastness of sky and sea, the soothing sounds of the waves rolling in in a hush.

  Emma sat on a rock for a while, taking in the sights and sounds of the bay, breathing in the fresh salty air. Whatever concerns she had today about the shop were nothing to what she had been through, what she had learnt to cope with in her past. She was a survivor. She’d be okay.

  ‘Come on Alfie. We’d better get back. I have a Chocolate Shop to open up.’

  And so they made their way back up the dunes, back up the hill to The Chocolate Shop by the Sea that was home.

  Emma was working on her own today, which had kept her occupied and her mind off all those other things. It was nearly four o’clock when a familiar face popped around the front door: Holly.

  ‘Hi, Em. I thought I’d call in and see how you are after yesterday.’ She didn’t say any more, as there were a couple of tourists sitting in the window seat, finishing off their pot of tea.

  Emma appreciated her assistant’s discretion; they both knew she was referring to the landlord’s visit.

  ‘Aw, thanks. I’m okay – just wondering what the nasty devil’s scheming,’ Em added in a whisper. ‘But I’m fine. I just need to concentrate on making The Chocolate Shop the best it can be. That’s all I can do.’

  ‘Yeah, absolutely. It’s already fab here anyway. Mind you, I do like the sound of the prosecco parties idea. Bev mentioned it to me when I bumped into her; she’s planning a trial run, you know.’

  ‘Is she now?’ Bev hadn’t mentioned anything to Em about that as yet.

  ‘Oops, wasn’t I meant to say anything? I thought you’d agreed.’

  ‘First I’ve heard of it.’ Em gave a wry grin.

  ‘Ah, well Bev said it was going to take a while for the licensing to go through.’

  Yes, there had been a lot more to it, when Emma had looked into it with the local council; she’d need to do a licensing course and then apply to the local authority for a licence after that.

  ‘So, Bev thought we could give it a practice run. We’d all bring the prosecco and you’d …’

  ‘Supply the chocolates,’ Em finished for her.

  ‘Exactly. So, you’re not cross I let it slip?’

  ‘No, it’s not your fault. But Bev should have asked me first. I assume we’re meant to be holding it here?’ Her friend did tend to leap into things. ‘I’ll be having words when I see her next, never fear.’

  ‘Sorry, Em.’

  ‘Ah, it’s all right. But honestly, that woman – any excuse for a party!’ Emma was smiling now. ‘Hey, don’t worry, Hols. In fact, after yesterday I need a bit of cheering up. It sounds fun, and we can test out how it might go for the real parties once I get licensed and we have paying guests.’

  A customer came in then, a lady who looked to be in her forties, who started browsing the artisan chocolate bars section.

  ‘I can recommend the dark choc-orange or the summer fruits on white, but they’re all lovely, to be honest.’ Holly couldn’t help herself praising the shop’s goods. ‘Right, I’d better go Em. I’ll be in again tomorrow. See you then.’

  ‘Yep, see you then. Thanks for your help with the display the other day too. And I’ll phone Bev and let you know about the party that I’m holding!!’ she added ironically.

  ‘Hah, yes!’

  ‘Thanks for dropping by, Hols.’

  ‘You’re welcome. It’s hard to keep me away. I just love this place.’

  It was time now for Emma to check on her other assistant’s plans.

  ‘Hi, Bev. So, can you tell me when I’m having this party then?’

  ‘Ah, I was going to call you about that.’

  ‘Ye-ah, is that before or after you’ve invited half the village?’

  ‘Soz, I got a bit carried away with the idea. But the good news is that everyone thinks it sounds like a brilliant idea, so surely that bodes well for the business angle? And all the girls will bring along a bottle of prosecco so all you need to provide is …’

  ‘The chocolates. Yes, I guessed that. And the venue, of course.’

  ‘Naturally. So, it’s okay then? You’ll do it?’

  ‘I don’t suppose I have much of a choice now, do I? But yes, of course. It’s what we’d talked about anyhow.’

  ‘Great stuff. I could really do with a girlie night. It’s been ages since we had a proper get-together. So, when shall we set the date for?’

  ‘Hah, I thought you’d have already planned that too.’

  ‘Well, no, not quite. Though next Friday might just have been mooted.’

  ‘I knew it. You are incorrigible.’

  ‘Well, I had to get an idea of who might have which night free. We can all do that one.’

  ‘And what about me? I might have a night of passion lined up or something.’

  ‘Ah …’

  ‘Just because I’ve been out of action for seven years. Remember that things have changed a little now.’

  ‘Ooh yes, the delectable Max. How is he?’

  ‘Good, thanks. But as usual, he won’t be around until the Saturday, as far as I know. So yes, okay, my arms have been twisted so much they’re nearly broken, but yes, let’s go for it. Next Friday it is. Who’s invited so far?’

  ‘Holly’s coming and is bringing a friend. Then there’s Jo and Ali in our little gang, and I may have mentioned it to the practice nurse. She started a couple of months ago and is a hoot. Maybe you could ask your sister-in-law Chloe? And see if she wants to bring a friend?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure she’d love a night out. Then I could ask Sheila from the grocer’s – she is a bit of a gossip but her heart’s in the right place – and her daughter, Laura, who’s on Reception at the hotel. They are both good fun and if it goes well they are sure to spread the word about the prosecco parties once we get the licence sorted.’

  ‘Hmm, good thinking.’

  ‘So, that’d be about ten of us. A good number, bearing in mind the size of the shop. We’ll stick with that, give it a try and see how it goes. In fact, shall we go the whole hog and do a chocolate truffle-making session too?’

  ‘Ooh yes, absolutely. Can you show me how to make those gorgeous Eton Mess ones, you know, with the meringue pieces? Though it’ll probably just end up a mess with me involved.’

  ‘Yes, no worries. You’ll be fine, I’m sure, and then I’ll think of a couple of others – the Baileys
ones are always good, and maybe chocolate-dipped strawberries.’

  ‘Scrummy bliss. I can’t wait.’

  8

  Before Emma could catch a breath, it was the eve of the planned prosecco party. She was in the shop serving a lady who was choosing chocolates for a wedding anniversary gift box when the doorbell chimed and she glanced up. She felt her body go cold. There were prickles in the back of her neck. She couldn’t believe her eyes … Luke?

  But it could never be. This guy, though, he looked so like Luke it was unnerving. He was grinning at her and gave a small wave, realising that she was in the middle of serving a customer. Which was more than Emma realised at that moment in time. OMG – was it Nathan?

  ‘Did you say there were some fruit flavours? Excuse me …?’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Emma had stopped still and was just staring at the newcomer. ‘Yes, of course,’ she rallied, ‘there’s a lemon and blueberry, raspberry ripple, Eton Mess with strawberries and meringue pieces. All equally scrumptious.’

  ‘Ooh, I’m sure they will be, they sound delightful. One of each, then.’

  Emma placed them in dainty paper cases before adding them to the gift box. ‘Just two more would make up your twelve.’

  ‘Any other suggestions?’ The woman smiled.

  ‘Well, the sea-salted caramels are always popular, and the Irish Cream truffles are a personal favourite.’

  ‘They sound ideal. Thank you.’

  Emma looked up to acknowledge the man who was still standing there waiting. Oh my, his eyes were so very like Luke’s – that same blue-grey. She found her hands were trembling as she wrapped the box with ribbon.

  ‘That’ll be eight pounds and twenty pence, please.’

  The lady paid, saying, ‘Thank you, I’m sure my husband will love them,’ as she took the paper bag with the gift in.

  As the space between her and the man who had just walked in cleared, Emma felt her heart banging in her chest. Luke’s brother – it just had to be. It hit her suddenly, it was the only explanation. The last time she had seen him was at the funeral.