Page 36 of The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop

Bugger.

Holly must have spotted the disappointment in her face. ‘I did try.’

‘Ah, it’s okay.’ Emma tried to sound less anxious. It might have been anyone, after all. She was probably getting worked up over nothing. ‘But when was this?’

‘About a half-hour ago.’

He might still be here in Warkton. He might have gone to the beach, looked for her there, or just gone for a stroll like last time. Dammit, should she try and look for him, just in case? She could take Alfie out for a quick walk, check out the village and the beach, look in the dune car park for his vehicle? Some kind of jeep thing. She might never see him again otherwise.

She stopped herself. What on earth was the matter with her? It was probably just some customer who sounded a bit like someone she had met once for a few minutes, over nine months ago. What she needed to do was to get on with her work here, not go mooning about after some bloke. She was acting like Holly might, all seventeen-year-old angst. And, surely if he’d liked her enough, he’d have come back sooner than nine bloody months.

Emma headed to the kitchen to take out her misplaced energy on a batch of cappuccino truffles. At least she could always count on her chocolate.

The shop had just closed, Holly had gone home, and it – or more to the point, he – was preying on her mind. Curiosity needled at her – could that guy still be in the village? Should she at least try and look? She’d need to walk Alfie now, anyhow. With that, Emma was up the stairs, two at a time, grabbing Alfie’s lead – he needed no encouragement – and was bounding back down by her side within seconds.

Emma scanned the street, the parked cars. Would she even remember what model of car it was from Boxing Day? She thought the colour had been grey …

What if it was him? And he was here, walking down the street or on the beach? She didn’t even know what she would do if she did see him. Walk up and say, ‘Hi, I’m that girl from nine months ago’, or might she just hide in the dunes, take a sneaky look, chicken out and that would be it?

Would she even recognise him? But as she thought about that, already an image was forming in her mind. His face, his eyes, which were warm and intense, the stubbly beard. His smile. Oh, she’d know him.

Off she strolled down the main street, ducking her head into the village stores as she passed, giving a quick wave to Sheila behind the counter there, then on for a quick check of the harbour area. She spotted Beth, from the cottage just along from The Chocolate Shop, who was out with her new baby. Emma said ‘hello’ and couldn’t resist a quick peek in the pram, gently touching a tiny week-old hand. She felt herself melt just a little. All those dreams that were so out of reach. ‘She’s so adorable, Beth. Just beautiful.’

Should she carry on with her mission, or was she just being silly and clutching at straws? Should she call in to the pub? But there was no vehicle like his in The Fisherman's Arms car park. She felt the beach might be her best bet, and at least Alfie could have a run off the lead there. She strode across to the start of the dunes, heading for the beachside car park where they had kissed all those months ago, thinking all the while: you crazy bloody woman. It might not even be him. And why would he go and walk on the beach to find her – it wasn’t as though she was permanently down there.

The beach car park was empty. She wandered down one of the sandy trails that led through the dunes, coming out on to the wide stretch of crescent-shaped bay and scanning it. There was a middle-aged couple out rambling, and a lady walking her terrier. No one tall or well-built. No one that looked anything like Mr Kiss.

What an idiot! Acting like a bloody teenager at thirty-six. She let Alfie have a little play by the shoreline, then had to pick up his dog poo with one of the black scoop bags that were always amassed in her coat pockets. Hah, the guy was bound to turn up now, just as she was shovelling shit. But still nothing, nada. She scanned the beach one last time and felt her stupid little heart sink a little.

It had been worth a try, if only to satisfy her curiosity. But, it wasn’t to be – probably wasn’t even him at all, to be fair. Just some older, not-bad-looking guy.

She looked out across the sea, to the sky, her mind lost in the clouds for a moment. What the hell would Luke think if he could see her like this? What had she been thinking?

‘Come on, Alfie. Time to go, boy.’

She’d better get back, back to The Chocolate Shop where she knew what was what and where she was meant to be.

20

The next day, Sunday, the shop door clanged and in marched a sprightly sixty-year-old, her hair set in neat grey curls, with a concerned-looking Adam in tow.

‘It’s so lovely to meet you at last.’ The lady had the bluest eyes with a hint of sparkly mischief about them. She was thrusting her hand across the counter towards Emma.

‘This is my gran. I couldn’t keep her away,’ explained Adam.

‘Well, lovely to meet you.’ Emma shook her hand warmly.

‘It’s Shirley, by the way.’

‘Emma.’

‘Yes, Holly’s said so much about you, Emma, and about the shop here. I just had to come and see it for myself. Our Adam invited me across to the hotel for tea and cake this morning. He’s doing so well there and I’m so proud of him – assistant manager, you know.’

Adam was grimacing at this point.

‘Well, when my grandson said he had to call down for the turndown chocolates, I said why didn’t I come along too? I’m so glad I did! Oh, and your chocolates are a real delight. Those coffee and orange creams, they’re my favourites. They really do melt in your mouth.’

‘Thank you. That’s lovely to hear.’