Page 43 of The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop

‘It’s okay, he made it through, thank heavens. I was fond of them, her parents. Still am. And so I couldn’t do it. How could I tell her then? So I stayed, pretended we were fine, supported her through it.’ Max stared at the flickering orange flames of the fire. ‘He’s a lot better now. A few months in, when her father was recovering back at home, when he was stable and we knew he was going to be okay, then that’s when I told her we were over. I couldn’t pretend any more. It was still bloody awful doing it, though.’

Emma had never had to break up with anyone, had never had to hurt someone like that. ‘I can imagine that was hard.’

Max did seem a nice bloke, but this was more complicated than she’d realised. Even without her own troubles.

‘Would it be all right to take your number?’ he asked.

‘Um.’ She wasn’t sure, especially after hearing all this. Wasn’t it safer, easier, just ticking away at life on her own, with no added complications, no one else to have to worry about? Did she even have the emotional energy to start this weird dating game again? But a phone number wouldn’t hurt, would it? Did she really want him to just walk away?

‘Ah, yes, all right.’ Emma sounded fairly cool, but as well as the fear that was mounting inside, a small part of her tattered heart was doing an air punch.

‘I’d like to keep in touch, if that’s okay?’

‘Okay.’ She read out her mobile number for him to input into his phone. ‘It’s not always a great signal here in the village, so you can always try the shop line too.’ He took that as well.

‘Can I take yours?’ She didn’t want it to work just one way.

‘Of course.’

‘So, its Max Hardy?’

And so there he was, safely stowed away in her phone. It gave her a little glow of hope.

They chatted some more, enjoyed the glow of the real fire, its cosy warmth. The pub was now a low murmur of conversation, with the odd rumble of laughter. Her friend Danny appeared, collecting glasses.

‘Evening, Em.’ He gave Max a nod as he took a good look at her companion.

‘Oh, hi Danny, I didn’t realise you were on tonight. This is Max, by the way.’

The guys shook hands, Danny definitely sussing Max out, before heading back to the bar. Emma had to smile.

Max glanced at his watch. It was gone nine-thirty. ‘Sorry, but I’d better be heading off. It’s a bit of a drive back to the B&B and I’ve an early start. I’ll walk you back or I can drop you off?’

‘Oh, I’ll be fine. I’m used to it.’

‘Ah, so you spend a lot of time down at the pub then, do you?’

‘Hah, no, not really. I mean being out and about in the village. I’m always out walking Alfie.’

‘But then you’d have Alfie to protect you.’

‘I suppose.’

‘I’d like to walk you back.’ He seemed politely determined.

‘Okay then, of course. Thank you.’ She wasn’t used to having someone to look out for her. She’d been on her own for a long time.

‘I’d better watch out for you anyhow, or I’m pretty certain the guys in here will be on my case.’

‘Definitely.’

He finished his glass of Coke and stood up. Emma pulled on her denim jacket, her wine glass now empty too. She waved across to the bar. ‘Bye, Dave, Danny, folks.’

‘Night, Emma. Night …’ Dave gave a polite nod towards Max. The barflies gave curt nods and glances, no doubt still measuring the stranger up. She’d bet there’d be tongues wagging as soon as they got out of the door, wanting to know about the mystery man in the village.

The air was cool, and the pewter-toned moon was full and rather beautiful as they stepped outside. As they rounded the side of the stone pub building, they could see the harbour and the sea. All dark now, bar a dim orange street light, and the glint of moonlight on the choppy waves of the bay.

Max reached for her hand as they began to climb the hill. It was a surprise, and there was still all the stuff about his girlfriend flitting through her mind, and a mountain of fears and doubts within her, but despite all that she felt a little electric pulse run through her. He looked tenderly across at her in the half-light. Was this going to be the start of something? Did she want that?