The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop

by Caroline Roberts

  There was a knock at the back door, footsteps, then a head popped round, all dark-brown curls and a cheery smile.

  ‘Oh, hi, Holly. Good to see you.’

  ‘Hey, Em. Happy New Year! I was just in the village fetching some milk and the papers for Mum. Thought I’d pop in and say hello.’

  ‘Happy New Year. But we did see each other on New Year’s Eve.’

  ‘Ah yes, so we did – it’s coming back to me now. I was slightly squiffy at that point. Soz. Anyway, I wanted to find out when you’ll need me back in next.’

  ‘Well, it’s going to be pretty quiet for a few weeks …’ She saw Holly’s face drop. No doubt she’d spent all her recent wages on her New Year’s Eve outfit. ‘But you could maybe help out for a couple of hours each Saturday afternoon. It’ll give me the chance to do some crafting. I’m sorry, Holly, I really do wish I could give you more hours, but January’s just not a great time.’ She’d be counting the pennies as it was. ‘We’ll be busier in Feb for Valentine’s Day, though. I’ll need you loads more then, and on the build-up to Easter, of course.’

  ‘Okay. No worries.’ The young girl smiled, though she still looked a little disappointed.

  Emma felt awful; she so wished she could give her more work. Holly was a great help and lovely with the customers, chatty and friendly behind the counter. She was nice company for Emma too. But the business really wasn’t making enough for her to keep paying for extra hours. As it was, she probably could have managed without Holly for the whole of January. She could craft the chocolates in the evenings – she had enough time on her hands – but she wanted to help the young girl and she’d really need her to stay on for when it got busier in the spring. Some other business might snap her up otherwise, and that would be such a shame, both for Emma and The Chocolate Shop.

  ‘Making more supplies, I see.’

  ‘Yes, dark choc whisky truffles.’

  ‘Mmm, I love those.’

  ‘Actually, I’ll only be two more minutes making the mix for these. Do you fancy staying for a coffee?’ Em realised the company would be great. She hadn’t seen a soul yesterday.

  They were soon settled on stools in Emma’s kitchen with cups of coffee in front of them. The whisky truffles weren’t quite ready, but she did have a few chocolate-orange ones left that she’d made just before the New Year.

  ‘Aw, thanks, Em, this is so nice. I always used to love coming in here, even before I got the job. It’s such a magical little shop. I used to stand there, browsing the shelves, choosing my favourites, or sometimes trying something new because you have such gorgeous flavours. And the smell …’ Holly smiled. ‘All that cocoa scrumminess; just amazing.’

  She’d spotted the sign that Emma had put in the shop window one day, saying a part-time assistant was required and had walked right in and introduced herself there and then, not wanting to miss the opportunity. The work was ideal for Holly, fitting in with school times, study, and exams, yet a welcome break from that too.

  Emma had tried to make her feel welcome and they got on well despite the age gap. She took time to train her on how best to deal with the customers and let her watch and learn the chocolate-creating process, even asking for Holly’s advice on new flavours and chatting about ideas. They’d come up with a cranberry and pistachio truffle in the run-up to Christmas which was a real hit with the customers. Holly’s confidence had grown so much since starting here and it was lovely that the two of them got on so well. There was a big age difference, nearly twenty years, she found out, so Em felt a bit like a mum-figure and friend all rolled into one.

  ‘So, looks like you had a good night on New Year’s Eve?’ Emma commented.

  ‘Yeah, The Fisherman's Arms was buzzing, wasn’t it? We were at a party before that, at my mate Laura’s house.’

  ‘Was Tom there?’

  Tom had been Holly’s crush for years and she’d spilled out all her romantic hopes and dreams to Emma. The pair had been school friends for years but, for Holly, something had changed at around sixteen. She felt they could be more than friends. As yet, Tom had been slow to catch up, or lately even notice her.

  ‘Ye-es.’ Her answer was noncommittal. ‘He was there, but I might as well have not been, for all the time he spent chatting and canoodling with bloody Kirsty Chase. Okay, so she is the best netball player in the school. And she’s tall and leggy, with silky, long blonde hair. But she can be a bit dim, sometimes.’

  ‘Ah, I see. Sorry, petal. Doesn’t sound like it was your night.’

  ‘Not really. But hey-ho … Did you have a nice night? I thought it might have been just you and Alfie and a night in before I saw you?’ Holly looked at her in horror, though that didn’t sound a bad option to Emma really.

  ‘No, I do have some friends, you know,’ Emma laughed.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean it like that!’

  ‘I know. Well, I had an early supper with Bev and Pete, and then we met Joanne and a few others for drinks out in the village and then ended up in the Fisherman’s like you lot, of course. It was nice.’

  Fine, pleasant, amusing. It didn’t make your toes curl.

  ‘Yeah, it was a pretty good night. Didn’t feel so hot the next day, mind.’

  ‘Hah, no, I bet.’

  ‘So, I’ll come in next Saturday then. What time?’

  ‘About one-ish.’ Emma pulled a sorry face; frustrated that she couldn’t give Holly more hours. ‘Say one till three. We can sort out the window display if it’s quiet, think of something bright to cheer January up a bit.’

  ‘Oh yes, I’ll have a think on it. I like being creative.’

  ‘Fancy a chocolate-orange truffle, Hols? They’re like a posh version of the Terry’s.’

  ‘Ooh, don’t mind if I do.’

  ‘We have to check for quality control, naturally,’ Em grinned.

  ‘Of course.’

  One became three each, just to triple-check the product. They ended up with chocolate-smeared lips, grinning like loons.

  ‘That definitely passes the taste test. Wow!’ Holly was beaming.

  Oh, yes. This was one of the best parts of the job – the chocolate tasting!

  6

  ‘January’s doing my head in.’

  ‘Hello, Bev,’ Emma recognised the voice of her best friend. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘It’s just so dull and grey. Christmas is over and I have no money left, and no parties to look forward to.’

  ‘Ah, and we’re only a week in to it, too.’

  ‘I know, and that’s even more depressing.’

  ‘We could have a girlie night in. Needn’t cost more than a bottle of Prosecco.’ In fact, she’d been given a bottle as a Christmas gift – even better.

  ‘Now you’re talking.’

  ‘Yes, a movie night. I can get something up on Netflix. Funny or sad?’

  ‘Not sure. I need some cheering up, I think, but then I do like a good sloppy romance that makes you get the tissues out.’

  ‘Well, I’ll have a think on it. I’ll get some popcorn in too. We’ll do it properly.’ It sounded fun. They could chat and cosy up. It might just be what Emma needed too.

  ‘You don’t have any chocolate, do you?’ She could hear the smile in Bev’s tone.

  ‘Nah, never keep it in.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘I’ve just about finished my Christmas supplies, Em. Well, to be honest, let’s say Pete has just about finished my Christmas supplies. The gorgeous ones you gave us were gone within the day, the Heroes tin has a couple of mini Milky Ways left, and that’s about it.’

  ‘Do you want a goody bag to go down to the shop with, before the movie? A bit like a pick ’n’ mix?’

  ‘Oh my, you know me too well, Emma Carter. Can I really? That would be heaven. I get to raid a chocolate shop, drink Prosecco and watch some hunk in a movie, all in one night. That is such a plan. I feel cheerier already, just thinking about it. Thanks, Em.’

  ‘You’re welcome. That’s what fri
ends are for.’

  She could spare a few chocolates from the shop; yes, funds would be a little tight for the next couple of months for sure, but right now she had her Christmas takings safely banked, and she could always steer her friend towards the last of the festive favourites. After all, no one would be looking to buy Rudolph chocolate lollipops or Santas for another year now.

  ‘So, when shall we do it?’ Bev asked.

  ‘Are you free Friday?’ That was two days away.

  ‘Yep. I’m sure that’ll be fine. As I say, I have no other plans.’

  ‘Well then, let’s make it a date.’

  ‘Definitely. You’re on.’

  Friday morning, Emma set to work removing the shop’s Christmas window display. Down came the tinsel, the baubles, and the little Christmas tree, which she decided to repot out at the back. She stood the last chocolate Father Christmas moulded figure on the counter, ready to discount, along with some of the Rudolph lollipops, some white-choc stars and Christmas pud truffles, but decided to leave the fairy lights that ran along the counter and shelves. They would give the place a little welcoming glow.

  She had found some pretty yellow witch-hazel blossom flowering on a small tree in her back yard – a sign of spring to come – and put it in an old jam jar which she’d tied a green silk ribbon around and added snowdrops. As customers would be feeling the pinch from Christmas on their waistlines and their pockets, she started to make up mini packs of fudge and truffles to display along with the flowers. Ideal little pick-me-ups and gifts. There were still the occasional holidaymakers about at this time of year, including those hardy ramblers who persevered in all weathers, as well as couples taking shelter at the hotel at the top end of the street.

  It had been a quiet day. She’d only seen two people in the shop all day, when a familiar face called in.

  ‘Hi there! So, the Christmas decs are coming down.’ It was Holly, looking a little morose.

  ‘Yeah, I always hate this bit … but look, I’m putting some bright yellow blossom out with snowdrops. What do you think? You can help me some more with ideas tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s really pretty. Do you want me to carry on bagging up the chocolates here? I’ve got a spare half hour. Well, it’s either that or heading back to face my homework. And to be honest, I need a little break. I’m only just off the school bus.’

  ‘That’d be great … thanks, Holly. How’s school going?’

  ‘It’s okay. Busy, especially now it’s Sixth Form and you just feel that pressure, you know, to get good A-level results next year. The grades are so important for uni or whatever I decide to do afterwards … agh, I don’t even know what I want to do afterwards.’

  ‘Just keep working hard, Holly, and you’ll be fine – that’s all you can do.’ That was pretty much her mantra in life at the moment.

  ‘Yeah. S’pose.’

  Em thought back to when she was eighteen. She’d quite enjoyed school, but wasn’t totally sure what she had wanted to do as a career either; teaching had seemed a sensible option, so she had gone off to uni in Durham, enjoyed student life, passed her degree, then taken a PGCE for a year and got herself a teaching post. She’d always loved cooking and specialised in food technology, but not all of her secondary students were that committed, and thought of it as a bit of a ‘dossy’ subject, which could be frustrating. It was fine, though; she got paid pretty well. And she had met Luke when he had started work at the same school a year after her. She probably would have stayed in that line of work had everything not veered off course spectacularly. But then … it really made you think that life was too short to be working away at something you didn’t love.

  She wondered for the umpteenth time how Luke would have felt about her becoming a chocolatier.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Ooh, yep, just in a little world of my own for a minute there. Cuppa?’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  ‘Tea okay? I feel quite thirsty.’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘I’ll just pop the kettle on.’

  She left Holly bagging up packs of truffles and fudge. The young girl was busy tying on ribbons in shades of bright pink, yellow and green, as Emma came back carrying two mugs. ‘Here.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘They look pretty.’

  Holly was scraping scissors along the ribbons to make the ends curl.

  ‘The colours will go really well with the blossom in the display. Give it a cheery feel. You really are a ray of sunshine here, Holly,’ Emma added.

  Just then the dinging chime of the door went. They both looked up. Holly was already positioned behind the counter, so Emma stood back as a blond-haired young man wandered in. He looked about twenty and she saw him glance at her assistant with a shy smile, before perusing the shelves.

  ‘Can I help you?’ Holly said, her face blushing pink, nearly matching the bright ribbon in her hand.

  ‘Umm, well, I’m looking for a gift.’

  ‘Okay, well, what kind of a gift? Birthday?’

  ‘No, no, not a birthday, just a general thank you. More of an everyday gift, I suppose.’

  ‘Okay … well, we can tailor-make gift boxes. You can choose any favourite flavours and then we can put in the number of chocolates you’d like.’

  ‘Right, yes.’

  ‘For a lady?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay then. Well, there are truffles, ganaches, fruit flavours, alcohol, nuts – it’s up to you, really. Have a look in the counter here.’

  ‘Just a mixture would be great. I don’t mind. I’ll let you choose.’

  Holly took a medium-sized gold-coloured gift box and a pair of tongs and started taking various chocolates from the counter display, placing them on to the scales. She stopped at eight, saying that would cost just less than five pounds, including the box and wrapping.

  ‘That’s fine. Can you pop a couple more on, then? Thanks.’ He pulled out his wallet from his trouser pocket.

  ‘Okay, so that’ll be five pounds eighty altogether. And, if you just give me a second I’ll wrap them properly for you … pink, red, or gold ribbon?’

  ‘I don’t mind. You choose.’

  Emma saw him give Holly another smile.

  ‘Pink then.’ That was Holly’s favourite colour. Bright, bold and bubbly, just like she was. Holly did her magic with bows and curls, and popped the gift box into a crisp, white paper bag, tucking in one of their Chocolate Shop business cards.

  There was a moment as Holly handed back his change when their eyes met. Holly seemed to go a shade pinker. Em had to smile, though she pretended to be busy with her window display again.

  The young man left with a polite, ‘Thank you’.

  As the shop door closed with a ding, Emma said, ‘Now he was a nice-looking lad.’

  ‘Yes,’ Holly answered, her tone a pitch higher than normal. She watched the young man walk past the window, gave him a brief, friendly smile, and went back to packing up the gift bags once more.

  Emma grinned across at her. It might be a good thing that someone other than the apparently offhand Tom at school had taken her assistant’s attention.

  7

  There was a knock at the back door of the cottage and Emma went to answer it and seeing who it was or, more exactly, who it was and what she was wearing, burst out laughing.

  ‘I’m all set,’ Bev grinned, making her way into Em’s back kitchen.

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve actually walked around here like that.’

  Bev lived a ten-minute walk away across the far side of the village.

  ‘Yep, well, why not? I drew the line at coming across in my slippers, mind – they’re in the bag, along with a bottle of Prosecco and some cheesy nibbles.’ She offered up her carrier bag to Emma.

  ‘You look like some crazy bag lady.’

  ‘Well, thanks.’

  Bev stood before her in a full-on zebra-print onesie.

  ‘Right, well I suppose I’d better go and get
mine on, then. Don’t want to be outdone. There’s two glasses ready there on the side so you get the Prosecco popped and poured. I’ll just be one minute.’

  ‘Can I still raid the chocolate shop like you promised?’

  ‘Yes,’ Emma shouted from halfway up the stairs. ‘But wait until I get back.’

  ‘Meanie.’

  Em found her giraffe-print onesie on the chair in her bedroom, where she’d left it last night, and stripped off her jeans and jumper combo and pulled it on. She felt cosy straight away. Right, slippers on. So, she was ready for their ‘big night in’.

  She arrived back down in the kitchen.

  ‘Can I fill my goodie bag now?’ Bev’s eyes lit up.

  ‘Yes, go on then.’ Emma led the way through the door from the back hallway to the shop, and switched on the lights.

  ‘Yippee!’ came a squeal from behind her.

  ‘Bev, anyone would think you were four, not forty-odd.’ But Emma was smiling as she spoke.

  ‘I know, I know. I still can’t quite get over the fact that my best friend actually has a chocolate shop. How did I get that lucky in life?!’

  This evening, with it being especially dark outside, Em had to admit it did look rather like a chocolate version of Aladdin’s cave, with neatly piled truffle and ganache gems, gold and silver foil boxes, trails of ribbons and coloured packaging.

  ‘Here.’ Emma passed her friend a cellophane bag. ‘Go on, fill it. But, if you wouldn’t mind, take a few of those Christmas pud truffles and snowy stars that are left on the counter; that’ll help my stock situation. They’ve got to be eaten in the next week or so before they go out of date.’

  ‘No worries. I’ll gladly take them off your hands. What do you fancy, Em?’

  To be honest, Emma had seen and handled so much chocolate in the past few weeks, she wasn’t sure. But she was always partial to a soft-centred caramel.