Page 97 of The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop

‘You’ll have to come and stay sometime.’

‘Yes, I will do. Thank you. Take care.’

‘You too, my lovely.’

‘All the best.’ John gave her a warm hug.

‘And don’t forget what I said,’ Angela reminded her.

‘I won’t.’ A tear escaped her eye as Emma drove off.Oh, they were such lovely people, they hadn’t deserved what life had thrown at them.

44

It had been on her mind all night, this sense that she’d let something go, something so special. She had to find him.

A phone call wouldn’t be enough. It couldn’t show him how she felt, and if he was as cheesed off with her as he had every right to be, would he even bother to answer?

She had had some long days this week at The Chocolate Shop since meeting up with Luke’s parents, and had put the emotions down to feeling tired. But even after a good night’s sleep, there it was, this nagging, dragging, lonely feeling. It was Max. She missed him. And, the only thing that was going to put that right was to see him again – to try and explain how she felt. He’d mentioned his building project down at Jesmond, near some church or chapel which had been converted to a house.

She was in the shop on her own today. Being a Monday, Bev was working at the surgery and Holly was at school, but if she put up a sign to say it would be 11.00 a.m. opening today – surely that wouldn’t hurt just this once. It was now nearly eight o’clock. That gave her three hours; it was an hour’s drive each way, so there would be a bit of time to see him and talk with him. That’s if he still wanted to see her, after her cool dismissal of him after the market. Oh hell. She cringed just thinking about it.

To be honest, she wasn’t quite sure how she was going to explain – the emotions were still a little chaotic in her mind. But just the thought of getting in her car and at least trying, that lifted her spirits. Right, that was it. She wrote a Post-it Note and stuck it in the shop window about the later opening, got Alfie, his lead, and some water into the back of her car, and set off. Let’s do this thing, Em.

It was as she was approaching the outskirts of Newcastle that she realised a three-storey town house near to a converted chapel wasn’t that explicit. No address, no street name, and the suburb of Jesmond seemed to be quite big. Yes, she could always ring Max, but what if he was so fed up with her he didn’t answer, or worse still answered but then said he didn’t want to see her? How could she then just turn up? Better to keep the element of surprise – if she could find the right house, that was.

A church spire caught her eye; right, head in that direction. She knew Max’s vehicle and the church seemed to be at the far end of this road, so she’d be looking for some work vans, a skip, scaffolding? Nothing. No dark-grey jeep, either. And the church wasn’t converted, there was a board up about services and the like.

Fifteen minutes later she was still circling. Come on, Em, was there anything, any snippet of conversation that might help? He had said something about a coffee shop being nearby, too. Okay, so church/chapel, coffee shop, three-storey house. It was still pretty vague. She took a different turn and found herself on a street with a run of shops – hairdresser, gift shop, little café – but there must be lots of coffee shops in Jesmond, surely. Keep trying, turn left, turn right – she might as well throw a bloody dice, stupid woman. And then, a tall townhouse with scaffolding, several work vehicles parked outside, and a dark-grey jeep. Oh my, this was it!

She found a space to park a little further down the street. Taking a quick look in the rear-view mirror, she added a slick of lip gloss and ran her fingers through her hair to give it a bit more life, took a deep breath, then stepped out. Heading back to the house with the scaffolding, she passed a chap having a cigarette by one of the white vans, possibly one of Max’s team. She smiled at him.

Tall metal fencing panels stood across the driveway, one of them ajar. Inside she spotted a chap in a yellow Hi-Vis jacket checking the front of the house and making some notes on a clipboard. Emma was heading for the gap in the fencing, hoping to see Max somewhere. Hi-Vis guy turned. ‘Can I help you?’ he called across.

‘Ah, I’m looking for Max …’ What was his surname? ‘Yeah, Max Hardy.’

‘Okay, and you are?’

‘Emma.’ She took a step or two forwards.

‘Sorry, Emma, but no one’s allowed past the gated area without a hard hat: Health and Safety.’

And yes, he was indeed wearing a bright yellow hard hat.

‘Oh, can you maybe get me one? Are there any spares hanging about? Or perhaps I could borrow yours just for a few minutes?’

He gave her a look that said, ‘You must be kidding me.’

She switched on her most winning smile. ‘It’s really important that I talk to him.’

He seemed to soften. ‘Okay, give me sec and I’ll see if I’ve got a spare in the van.’

He went out to a smart navy van parked beside the house, returning with a hat, which he offered to her. ‘I think he’s around the back. Be careful, mind, there’s trenches and pits round there, as well as heaps of rubble.’

‘Anyone would think it’s a building site,’ Emma quipped, feeling nervous, which didn’t go down too well, as the guy’s face hardened. ‘Right,’ she added briskly, as she set off around the side of the house. Her heeled ankle boots were not the best choice for this terrain, but at least she was wearing jeans. It was a big property, rather grand, with a huge garden stretching out behind it. No doubt it would be fabulous when it was all done. As she rounded the corner, there was Max, hard hat on, deep in conversation with one of the workmen. They were discussing something, then looking up at the back of the house, Max pointing. Emma stopped in her tracks. Just then, Max’s gaze came down and fell upon her. He didn’t smile; he looked taken aback if anything.

Emma then lip-read him saying to his colleague, ‘I’m sorry, if you can just give me a minute?’

This was the moment in the movies when they ran into each other’s arms, and he’d pick her up and whizz her around, as the backing music swelled into a crescendo.