Page 55 of The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop

‘Well, she was a bit of a whirlwind.’ The gentleman smiled awkwardly. With that, they picked up a small bag of fudge – the nearest thing to them – paid, and quickly left. It felt like the damned woman had sucked the air out of the place.

Once the shop was empty, Emma felt a tear crowd her eye, dammit.

Bloody hell! What a mess. She might have known something like this would happen. So, she’d gone and dipped her toe into the pool of romance, got swayed by a handsome face and a nice physique and here she was already feeling battered and bruised. See, she knew this romance lark wasn’t worth all the bloody bother. Just wait till she told Bev about this one. Maybe it was a lucky escape. Okay, so her heart had had its edges torn, but hey, the centre of it had been ripped out years ago.

The shop was quiet after that, thank heavens, and now it was nearly closing time. Emma still felt a little battered from the day’s incidents. She looked around her little shop and let her mind drift back to the start, when she’d first seen this place up for rent seven years ago.

It was a winter’s day in the week before Christmas. Of course, it wasn’t a chocolate shop then, just a rather rundown cottage that had had its front room converted into a shop.

She was walking her gorgeous new spaniel pup, a gift from her parents, back up from the beach to her car which she’d parked at the top of the village. She’d driven without an end destination that day, just the urge to head north for the coast, and she’d given Alfie his first-ever walk on the beach. She remembered his excitement and confusion at the feel of the sand beneath him, racing in laps then sinking his paws in to it, then dashing for the waves and darting back as the cold water rushed over his feet. Emma was watchful of him, however, careful not to let him go too far into the surf. Being young he’d tired quickly and became a little shivery from the cold water, so she wrapped him in her scarf and carried him back up the beach and through the dunes, setting him down on his feet to walk the last fifty metres or so to the car.

As they were climbing the hill from the harbour, with its Christmas lights aglow and a gorgeously decorated fir tree, past the quaint stone cottages of the main street, she spotted the ‘For Rent’ sign. The cottage to let was at the end of a row, made of pretty cream-grey stone, but it looked rather sad, as if it needed someone to care for it again. The woodwork around its windows was the worse for wear, all chipped white paint and flakes of rotten wood. She couldn’t see into the main shop window, unfortunately, as it was covered from inside with ancient, yellowing newspapers, relating tales of births, deaths, and village fetes from over ten years ago, and any gaps were covered with whitewash. But something about the place made her stop in her tracks. Warkton village was popular with the tourists but still had a sleepy air; it also had the most beautiful harbour and beach. It felt small and welcoming, a place you could relax, start a business, somewhere to rebuild her life. A place for a fresh start.

As soon as she got home she rang the agent’s number and asked to arrange a viewing as soon as possible and came back the next day. The cottage was old, and worn, and needed plenty of TLC, but Emma could see its potential; it had a big kitchen downstairs with plenty of work surfaces, the shop space was already shelved out and would be fine with a good clean and a lick of paint. She could picture it there at Christmas, all tinsel and fairy-light festive with colourful bags and boxes of chocolates. She’d already dreamed of making her chocolate crafting a career not just a hobby.

Before she had even left that very first time she had fallen in love with the cottage and its shop. It had stolen a piece of her heart, her Chocolate Shop by the Sea.

So, her heart was a little sore but it was time to step back from her relationship woes and build that wall around it once more. What she needed to do right now was to turn her focus back to saving her beloved chocolate shop, and not only saving it, no: making it the best bloody place to come for chocolate, coffee and cake along the whole Northumberland coast.

27

‘Hi, you okay, Em? Can I come up and see you next Sunday?’ Max’s soft Geordie tones came through on her mobile.

‘Max? I’m surprised you’re calling.’

‘What? Why?’ He sounded confused.

‘Let’s just say I had a little visit from Siobhan. Your Siobhan.’

‘Oh, but—’

‘Look,’ Emma cut him off, ‘I don’t want any ifs and buts and she doesn’t understand me – there’s obviously some unfinished business there, Max.’

‘Hey, on her part, not mine.’

‘Sorry, Max, but I just can’t go there.’

‘Em? Come on, give me a chance to explain at least—’

‘My mind’s made up. It was difficult enough as it was.’ Her voice trembled. She needed to protect herself. No more reasons, excuses, tumbled emotions, she’d go back to her straightforward (well, mostly) chocolate shop life. She knew where she stood here. She had her friends, and Alfie, James and her family, she had all the support network she needed. ‘I can’t do it,’ she added decisively. It felt a relief, in fact, to say the words. She’d been so damned churned up the fast few weeks. This would be simpler, so much better.

‘But Em—’

Before he could say any more, Emma turned off the call.

Now that relationships were out of the picture, the next challenge seemed to be to find a joiner to do the alteration work for the café. The two local options were too busy, one of Max’s contacts gave a quote that was horrendously expensive, and the other was booked up until March next year! In a way, now it was all off between them, she was relieved not to have to deal with someone Max knew anyhow.

Finally, Bev’s Pete persuaded a semi-retired carpenter called Ron, a chap in his sixties who lived in the next village and played golf with Pete occasionally, to come and assess the job. As a special favour he agreed to fit the job in on a weekend in two weeks’ time – yay! – provided she threw in a half dozen boxes of chocolates for his family and friends. The deal was sealed, and she put a little notice in her shop window that she would be closed on Saturday and Sunday, 21 and 22 October, for renovations.

It was a shame that it would be the start of the school half-term holiday week, but if she had the cushions and seat pads already made and put in a huge effort on the Sunday night once the joiner had finished, she might just get the walls painted and everything set up for late morning Monday. It would be hard work, but so worth it. That way, at least, she’d have the rest of the half-term to try and make the most of her new coffee shop earnings.

She felt excited and a little scared. Her parents had been more than happy to help her out, but she’d hated asking for their hard-earned savings when she didn’t know how soon she’d be able to pay them back. Would it really work out? How did she know how much extra income the shop might take, bearing in mind all the costs involved to set this café idea up? But she would work so hard to make this happen and be a success. It just felt right, something she had to do. She put her fears to the back of her mind. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

It would work out – it had to, or her little chocolate shop by the sea might not even make it to next year.

Emma kept herself busy, planning what she needed to put into place for when Ron, the carpenter, would arrive. She’d already sourced eight cafetières from a local homeware store that had a sale on (there was no way she could afford a posh coffee machine yet, much as she’d have loved to). She was also going to head over to a local car boot sale that had been advertised for this Saturday morning (she’d leave Holly in charge for an hour or so) and to some of the charity shops in Alnwick to see if she could find some pretty mix-and-match teacups, side plates and teapots.

She’d had a wonderful offer from Chloe, her sister-in-law, who was going to make six cushions in the red-and-cream colour theme that Emma had finally settled on and was planning to make the seat pads for the window seats herself; she’d just need to find some strong red material to cover them. It would really brighten the place up, and look cosy and inviting during the upcoming winter season.