The Cosy Seaside Chocolate Shop Read online

  She ran upstairs to the lounge and stood looking out of the window down the street, hoping to catch sight of them once more. She felt a bit queasy. She hated arguments at the best of times. Then she spotted the back of Max’s tall, broad figure next to her brown-and-white spaniel. They were heading down towards the harbour, to the beach, no doubt. They didn’t turn to look back at the shop, or her.

  Was it just jealousy on his part? Most likely. But, what if he really believed she’d been messing about? That something had already happened between her and Nate? She realised what it must have looked like for Max walking in to find Nate half-naked like that. But really, talk about jumping to bloody conclusions. She hadn’t even been in the flat at the time!

  Ah, love – it swirled up your emotions like a damned whirlpool at times. Her battered heart was still getting a bashing. Was it really worth all the effort?

  Oh, Luke why did you have to go and get killed? It would have been so much simpler if they could have carried on, had their wedding dreams come true, the life they’d thought they’d have together. When she didn’t know that love could be a double-edged sword.

  But as she watched Max’s figure getting smaller in the distance, she felt such a pang of hurt and longing. A stark reminder that she wasn’t ready to lose her new love for the sake of a misunderstanding.

  She slumped down on the sofa, suddenly feeling exhausted, the angry emotions of their argument receding, leaving her feeling raw, vulnerable. She sighed, closed her eyes, and sat quietly for a minute or two. But this was no good, moping about like this, there were chocolates to make, her shop to keep going. She’d be better keeping busy anyhow; switch her mind to something more productive.

  As she started pouring chocolate callets into the tempering machine, her mind couldn’t help but drift back to the row with Max. It was so early in their relationship that it felt like they were on Bambi legs still. Could they pull through a blip like this? She knew she wouldn’t relax until he came back, but she pushed on, getting the Baileys and cream measured out ready for the white chocolate-dipped truffles she was about to make.

  And here she was back in the Chocolate Shop, with Max’s words that it ‘took all her time’ now ringing in her ears. Okay, so she did work six-and-a-half-day weeks, with early mornings and late nights. But she had to do that to make sure the business survived, didn’t she? Or, was it more her own survival technique, she wondered, a way of cutting off from the world … the world that could hurt you.

  Max knocked at the back door before coming in this time. Emma had heard the back gate go just before and felt her heart rate quicken.

  She swiftly rinsed her hands and wiped them on a towel, then headed for the back hallway. Max opened the door tentatively, Alfie already barging his way in.

  ‘Hey.’ Max stood there looking unsure of himself.

  ‘Hi,’ Em replied cautiously.

  There was a second or two of silence, when they both seemed hesitant.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry …’ Max started. He was standing there with Alfie, both with a hang-dog expression.

  She looked into Max’s lovely green eyes.

  ‘It was just such a bloody shock,’ he continued. ‘Walking in, seeing another guy here like that. Coming out of your bathroom … it just killed me, you know and I jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry … Look, I know he’s Luke’s brother, but he just seems the sort who drifts about from what you’ve said. He won’t be around for long, Em, and I don’t want you to get hurt or used or anything.’

  ‘You did overreact, but I kind of understand why you did. I’m just getting to know him again, Max, as a friend, that’s it.’ She emphasised the word. ‘I feel like I owe it to Luke to look out for his kid brother.’

  ‘Yeah, I get it. Like I say, I’m sorry.’

  ‘If this is going to work, Max, we need to start trusting each other.’ She held his gaze. At this moment, she so wanted this to work.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And while you were out walking, I’ve been thinking things over. Some of what you said rang true. I realise that we need to somehow, in our busy, hectic working lives, make more time for each other too.’

  ‘Yeah, I know it’s been harder recently. But once this Leeds job is completed, and I’m back working closer to home again, it’ll be a lot easier.’

  ‘And then maybe I can get Holly and Bev to cover a few more hours and try and take the odd Sunday off too, so we can get a full day together at least sometimes.’

  ‘That sounds good.’

  She felt herself relax. He wasn’t going anywhere fast. ‘Do you want to take Alfie on upstairs? He looks a bit sandy. His towel’s hanging on the peg above his bed.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘I’ll be up in just a few minutes. I need to finish off making these truffles.’ But even as she said this, she really didn’t want him to walk away, not yet, even if it was only up a flight of stairs. She walked over to Max, who dropped Alfie’s lead. The dog would probably just head on upstairs by himself anyhow. What did a few sandy footprints matter? Max’s arms opened and she moved in to lean against the soft cotton of his T-shirt, finding the warmth of his chest below. It felt like where she should be.

  She looked up, not realising at first that tears had misted her eyes, making her vision all fuzzy.

  ‘Hey,’ Max gently stroked her forehead, then moved his hand gently to tilt her chin so her eyes met his. ‘It’s okay … we’re okay.’

  15

  Used to getting up at six for work, they spent what was for them a long, lazy Sunday morning in bed. Emma never tired of exploring Max’s gorgeous body, and he seemed just as happy exploring hers. No alarms, no major deadlines, just a shop to open at midday.

  It was ten by the time they were sitting, propped up against pillows, with a cup of tea that Max had got up to make. He’d also let Alfie out for her too. Emma decided to share her idea for the courtyard area.

  ‘That sounds great, Em.’ Max was enthusiastic.

  In fact, she had heard of a car boot sale on today near to Alnwick. If they got their skates on an outdoor table set might be there waiting for her. She’d never get it into her little Fiat. But Max had a big Jeep outside.

  ‘Ma-ax, just thinking … You wouldn’t mind taking a drive across to a car boot sale this morning, would you? What I really need, to get this courtyard café off the ground, is some outdoor furniture – tables and chairs or maybe picnic benches, whatever I can find that’s in good condition. It would be great if I can get this idea up and running as soon as possible.’

  ‘Yeah, why not. No worries. Let’s get going before all the good stuff goes.’

  ‘Right. Brilliant. We’re on.’ Emma leapt out of bed. ‘I’ll just give Holly a quick call and make sure she brings her spare set of keys to open up the shop at twelve, in case we’re not back by then.’

  They were soon in the Jeep and winding their way out of the village. It was only a twenty-minute drive, and the roads weren’t too busy.

  The car boot sale was in full swing when they got there. A lot of the stuff on display was smaller items; knick-knacks, toys, clothes and suchlike. They stopped at a van which had several items of furniture outside, but there didn’t seem anything suitable for outdoor use.

  ‘You don’t happen to have any outdoor furniture, do you? I’m looking for a table and chairs set for a patio area.’ Em was being cautious, thinking he might raise his price if he thought a business was involved.

  ‘No, nothing like that, love. Sorry. But there is a chap further down who has a few house clearance items. You might be lucky there. Look for the grey van and ask for Rick; he’s a regular here.’

  ‘Okay, will do. Thanks.’

  She suddenly felt like she was on one of those antique programmes like Bargain Hunt or something. Em needed to get there before someone else did. She set off at a marching pace, closely followed by Max, who was smiling to himself at her focus and determination.

  She saw the grey van and
scanned the area next to it. Bingo! One wooden patio table, looking slightly battered paint-wise but which should sand down okay, and four sturdy-looking wooden chairs. A lady and gentleman were browsing far too close to the set for Emma’s liking. She broke into a jog and manoeuvred subtly past them to ask the seller how much he wanted for the set. She held her breath while he stroked his short beard thoughtfully and eyed her. She levelled her gaze back at him with a hopeful smile.

  ‘Seventy-five pounds for the set.’

  Emma stayed quiet. If each set cost that much, she’d have to pay out several hundreds, which she really didn’t have. She held her nerve while he added, ‘This sort of thing would retail at around two hundred and fifty.’

  ‘Yes, when it was new. But it’s been overpainted, and that paint’s all peeling away now. It’ll need some work on it.’

  Max was grinning as he reached them, hearing the stand-off. Emma was a lady to be reckoned with for sure.

  ‘Okay, sixty-five then,’ the chap came back with.

  ‘Fifty.’ Emma stood tall.

  The trader shook his head. The other couple were trying out a chair now.

  ‘Fifty-five. I have cash …’ She had some notes in her pocket from yesterday’s takings.

  ‘Deal.’

  They shook hands on it, both parties happy.

  Sitting in the Jeep with a boot full of chairs and a wooden table that would soon spruce up again – on close inspection all the wood was in good condition – Emma and Max did a high five.

  ‘Well done you.’ Max was smiling. ‘I loved the bartering technique. Think I might need you to do my negotiating when I’m buying materials in for the next job.’ He gave her a wink.

  ‘Any time,’ she said, laughing.

  They wound their way back along summer country lanes, with purple-pink foxgloves jutting tall from the stone walls, and cattle and sheep languidly grazing the green fields each side of them. As they reached the top of the village, they could see the fishing boats rocking gently in the harbour, the sea glinting silver in the sunshine, and the vista of the bay was just beautiful. It made the heart soar.

  Emma looked across at Max in the driving seat, and they shared a warm smile. It was lovely that they seemed to be back on track, and that her dreams for the courtyard café were starting to become a reality.

  16

  At mid-morning on Tuesday, Emma was on her way to the grocer’s, needing some fresh cream for the ganache she was planning to make. Bev was in and covering the shop.

  She was halfway down the hill when a movement from the churchyard, which was set just up on the rise, caught her eye. It looked as though someone was unsteady on their feet and perhaps about to fall over. They appeared to be elderly. Emma couldn’t walk on without checking that whoever it was, was all right.

  The quaint stone church of St Peter’s stood proudly on the hill behind the cottages of the main village street, looking out to sea. Emma diverted up a narrow path that was a shortcut to the church’s wooden gate. As she entered the churchyard, Emma could see that an elderly lady was leaning heavily against one of the gravestones. On approaching, it was apparent that it was one of her regulars, old Mrs Clark, bent almost double.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Emma called. ‘Mrs Clark?’ She didn’t want to just appear beside her and frighten her.

  The old lady looked up then. ‘Oh … just catching my breath, Emma pet. It’s my knees. They’re such cranky old buggers. Give me a bit of gyp now and then.’

  She was still well enough to curse, thank heavens. ‘Can I help at all?’

  ‘Oh, I’ll be all right in a minute. My, they get that stiff these days. I’ve been kneeling, sorting out the flowers for my Jim. But how else am I meant to do it? I come here every week, have a chat, fill him in on the news, you know.’

  Emma smiled. She did know, but she didn’t go to a graveyard for that; she just often chatted to Luke’s photograph that was still on her bedside table. Luke had been cremated and his ashes scattered at a beauty spot near his parents’ home and Emma always felt that it didn’t really matter where the flesh and bones went, as long as you didn’t forget, that you still held your loved one in your heart. In fact, she didn’t really want to think too much about the flesh and bones. Everyone has to find their own way to grieve, and to carry on.

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  Mrs C was able to stand a bit taller now, with just one hand resting on the gravestone. ‘He passed away twenty years ago. It was quite sudden – a heart attack. But there’s never a week when I don’t visit.’ The old lady smiled fondly.

  Emma noted the fresh bunch of bright-yellow carnations that were set in a cut-glass vase at the base of the headstone that was engraved with ‘James Arthur Clark, much loved husband of Marjorie Clark’.

  ‘How long were you together?’ Em asked.

  ‘Well, it was over forty years since I first met him. We were just a year off our Ruby Wedding Anniversary when he was taken bad.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs C.’

  ‘Well, pet, we had our time, would have liked more, but we had our time. It was a good forty years together.’ She looked at Emma kindly. ‘I know you mentioned about your fiancé. That must have been so hard, losing him so young.’

  ‘It was …’ Emma felt a lump forming in her throat. ‘Thank you.’

  Was it any easier losing someone after forty years, when you’d had more time together, Emma wondered, or was that just more to be taken away?

  ‘Well then, shall we head over to your lovely Chocolate Shop? That’s where I was going next. ’Cos if I stand here much longer, the old knees’ll seize right up again and I’ll be back to square one. And I could really do with a nice cup of your tea.’ Mrs C was a regular at The Chocolate Shop every Tuesday and Thursday, ten-thirty on the dot, and she popped in many other days too.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She’d walk back with her and check the old lady was all right. She could nip out again later to fetch the cream. ‘Mrs C … did you have any family?’ Emma hoped she wasn’t prying too much, but she was curious – she had never heard mention of any grown-up children visiting, or grandchildren.

  ‘No, pet. Not that we didn’t want them. But it wasn’t meant to be for us.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame.’

  ‘Ah well, we had a good marriage though, some happy times. And there were always lots of children about in the village to keep us entertained. Anyways, less of the bygones; how’s your new young man?’

  ‘He’s fine. Just seen him at the weekend.’

  ‘That’s good. I used to worry about you there in that shop on your own for all those years. A young girl like you.’

  ‘Oh, I was okay. But yes, it’s nice having some company now.’

  ‘I hope it’s a bit more than that.’ The old lady gave a cheeky wink.

  Emma couldn’t help but smile, especially remembering Sunday morning.

  They were ambling back down the pathway now, soon to turn into the main street.

  ‘I see you there in the shop, working so hard. You need a little fun in life too sometimes,’ Mrs C continued. ‘Life can be so short, Emma … but of course, you know that, pet.’ She gave Emma’s shoulder a pat. ‘Don’t hold back on the special things in life, that’s all I’m trying to say.’

  ‘I know … thanks.’

  They were climbing the small hill up to the shop. ‘Just need a breather a mo, pet.’ Mrs C paused, her breathing a little laboured.

  Emma guessed that she must be about eighty years old.

  ‘Always a bit of a bugger, this hill. Keeps me going, though. I’m not about to give up now.’ The old lady gave a wry smile that crinkled around her brown eyes.

  ‘Nearly there,’ Emma encouraged her, as they set off again. As they reached the door of the shop, Em opened it wide for Mrs C to go on through. ‘There now, get yourself a seat and I’ll fetch your tea. Do you fancy anything with it today?’

  ‘Hmm, I might. Have you got any of those delicious brownies left?’r />
  ‘Just made a new batch. There’s plain or chocolate- and-raspberry ones.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll try a raspberry – they sound scrumptious.’

  ‘Morning, Mrs C,’ Bev called from the counter.

  ‘Morning, Beverley. You okay, pet?’

  ‘Yes, great thanks.’ And they started to chat whilst Emma headed out to the kitchen to plate up the brownie, with some fresh raspberries for garnish, and make a pot of breakfast tea for one.

  The old lady enjoyed her tea and her chat and a bit of a rest. Hilda and Stan came in too, so they shared a table. It was lovely to see the village community getting on so well. Her Chocolate Shop by the Sea was such a cosy hub at times.

  17

  In a quiet moment later that afternoon, when all the customers were served and happy, Emma chatted with Bev in the kitchen about her developing plans for the courtyard café. ‘I’ll need to get a move on mind, we are already mid-May now.’

  ‘You’ll manage. You can do anything you put your mind to, Em. I’ve seen you in action, remember. And I haven’t forgotten, I’ve started asking about for you for furniture already. It’s such a fab idea, I’m sure it’ll work out.’

  Emma told her about the table she and Max had managed to get at a bargain price at the weekend. ‘So,’ she continued, ‘I just need to find three more sets and I’m ready for action.’

  ‘We could do a moonlight mission in the village and steal all the good ones from people’s back gardens,’ said Bev wryly.

  ‘Be-ev, you’re terrible!’

  ‘Only joking.’

  ‘Yes, and I’d end up being tracked down by PC Bob straight away.’

  ‘Hmm,’ was all her friend responded with.

  ‘What I need is to get some good second-hand ones, cheap. Mission Picnic Bench is about to begin!’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Bev, you okay? You don’t seem quite yourself today.’ It was unusual for her friend to be subdued. ‘Sorry,’ Em continued. ‘I’ve probably been prattling on about the courtyard and all my ideas for that, and no doubt been boring you out of your mind.’