‘Come here, silly.’ Em opened her arms wide. They shared a hug.
‘Right then,’ Holly announced, wiping her eyes with the tissue that Emma had just handed to her. ‘I’m off to set things straight. Warkton will soon know The Chocolate Shop by the Sea is here to stay.’
Emma had to smile as Holly marched into action and out of the shop.
Ali was already there at Bev’s when Emma arrived. Emma found the pair of them sitting in the patio area, with a jug of Pimm’s positioned on the white-painted wrought-iron table and four glasses ready.
‘Hi, Em.’ Bev stood up and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
‘Hello. Hi, Ali, good to see you. Wow – isn’t this lovely and what a gorgeous warm evening.’
‘Yeah, it seemed a shame not to make something of it. You’re just on time, I was about to pour,’ said Bev, giving the fruit and ice cubes a final stir.
Bev’s house was set at the far side of the village, overlooking country fields. It had been a two-bedroomed cottage, but they had extended it downstairs to make a larger kitchen space and conservatory and an extra room upstairs. Their grown-up son was now at university down in Leeds, so it was mostly just Bev and Pete there now. Emma liked going over to Bev’s house; it was always welcoming and a relaxing place to be.
Emma took a seat as Bev handed her a tall glass of Pimm’s.
‘Cheers.’ The three of them raised their glasses with a clink, just as the side-gate swung open and Joanne arrived, bearing a bottle of Prosecco and a huge bag of Kettle chips.
There were more hugs and hellos as the last glass was filled then they all settled back in their seats.
‘Sorry to hear about all the gossip going around that the shop is closing,’ Ali started. ‘Bev’s told me there’s no truth behind it. What a nightmare. I can’t believe what this village can be like at times. We’ll be sure to set the record straight, won’t we, girls?’
‘We will indeed,’ said Jo.
Emma was grateful for Bev’s discretion and for her other friends’ support. ‘Thank you. It’s just one of those things, I suppose.’
‘Hah, do you remember poor Mrs Bell trying to get her husband a surprise new car for his birthday? Well, they had her down for having an affair and everything, with the owner of the garage in Seahouses. There had been a few sightings and comings and goings and that was it. They can put two and two together round here and make six, or even ninety-six, given a few days!’
Emma had to laugh, and she was relieved that the focus had shifted from her problems. The village did have its downsides occasionally, tittle-tattle being one of them, but most of the time it had been a blessing and huge support for her. She began to relax and enjoy the company.
They sat and chatted in the early evening sunshine, looking across the fields to the ruined remains of Dunstanburgh castle. The garden was mostly grass, with some pretty shrub borders, and some colourful pots of petunias beside them on the flagstones of the patio.
The Pimm’s jug was getting low. It seemed surprisingly strong, and Emma began to feel quite lightheaded, though she realised she hadn’t had a proper supper, just a quick slice of toast before she came out. Thank goodness for the crisps Jo had brought along.
‘This Pimm’s is gorgeous – what have you put in it?’ Em asked. ‘I can see the strawberries and the orange. Oh, and I can taste mint …’
‘And cucumber,’ Bev replied. ‘Oh, and there’s a splash of brandy too.’
Brandy, Em nearly spat out her drink. ‘I thought it was Pimm’s and lemonade? No wonder it’s started going to my head.’
‘Yeah, I’m feeling it a bit too,’ added Ali.
‘Well, when I read the back of bottle it said to add the “spirit” too.’
‘Well, the spirit was probably the Pimm’s.’
‘Oh, I thought it meant another spirit, whatever you fancied, and I thought brandy would go nicely with all the fruity flavours.’
The four of them chuckled.
‘Well, it is rather nice,’ said Ali.
‘Rocket fuel.’ Emma pulled a face. ‘Oh my.’ She might not be able to get up for work tomorrow at this rate.
‘Relax, you’ll be fine. It was only a dash.’ Bev winked across at Joanne.
‘I know your dashes,’ Emma replied. ‘I have vivid memories of that G & T session here a couple of years ago.’ In fact, they were not that vivid at all by the next day. But she had to smile, and the Pimm’s cocktail did taste rather lovely.
They began to dip in to the box of chocolates Emma had brought.
‘Wow, these are delicious, Em. You are so clever.’ Joanne said.
‘Just scrummy. What’s in this one?’ Ali asked.
‘Salted caramel. Always popular.’
‘Mmm, just melts in your mouth.’
‘These are my favourites.’ Bev spotted the white chocolate of the Eton Mess. ‘Bloody lovely.’ She popped one in whole, then she couldn’t speak for a second or two. She took a sip of Pimm’s. ‘You know what, why don’t you combine the two? Cocktail-flavoured truffles, bet they’d go down well.’
‘Well, the alcohol flavours always work well. My boozy truffles, I usually use rum, whisky, and brandy.’
‘You could do a mojito,’ Jo suggested.
‘Or an Irish coffee,’ added Ali.
‘Now that sounds a great idea. I might have to test out a few flavours. But I’m liking it. You might be on to something, ladies.’
‘Sex on the beach!’ Bev shouted out.
‘Hah, can you imagine if I have “Sex on the Beach” chocolates for sale. The oldies might get offended.’
‘Bet the young ones would love it!’
‘You never know, some of the older ones might love it too! We’re not all out to pasture yet.’ Bev was grinning.
‘I’m talking cocktails. Right, behave, you lot.’ Emma tried to tone the conversation down.
‘Do we have to?’
‘Nah.’ She loved the girlie banter really.
The four of them giggled, and chatted away until the sunset colours of gold, peach, and grey began to fade. The chiminea was doing a sound job of keeping them cosy, and Bev lit a hurricane lantern to give them a glow of light for the table too. Pete found them with an empty chocolate box, an empty jug and nearly at the bottom of a second bottle of Prosecco, all chilled-out and a little merry at 10:30 as dusk was settling around them. He carried out another seat to their table and sat down comfortably alongside them, his arm fondly placed around his wife’s shoulders.
Ali’s husband, Dan, came to pick her up at eleven, and they offered to give both Emma and Jo a lift home. Jo’s bungalow was just down the street and around the corner and a light was still on there – her boyfriend waiting up for her, no doubt. They then dropped Emma off outside her shop. She said her goodbyes and thanked them for the lift. It had been a good night. The car pulled away. Emma had forgotten to put a light on and, heading in the back way, fumbled in the dark for her keys. Her little cottage seemed very quiet; even Alfie didn’t raise his usual bark as Em turned the key in the lock. It might just be the effect of the alcohol, or leaving close friends after a special evening, but she suddenly felt a bit odd. There was no one to tell about her evening. There was no one to kiss goodnight …
Part Two
19
The days began to shorten; the cool whisper of autumn was now upon them and the first leaves began to fall. Late September, and Emma was still working long hours trying to keep her head and her finances above water. For every step forward seemed to come a slide back. A rise in cocoa prices had hit hard last week, so the chocolate callets she needed to buy from Belgium for her creations had risen in price dramatically. She was concerned that if she put her shop prices up to match, she’d lose trade. It often felt like she was playing a horrible game of financial snakes and ladders.
She’d been up late last night, making up one hundred mini boxes of truffles for the Seaview Hotel and a selection of milk, dark and white gourmet chocolate
bars to restock her lovely new client, Lynda, at the Bamburgh deli. It being Saturday, Holly was in the shop today, so was able to cover for her. Em started loading up her car, ready to make her delivery to Bamburgh, a twenty-minute drive away.
‘Right, Holly, I’m just away up to Bamburgh. You okay, here?’
‘Of course. No worries. I’m in control.’
‘Thanks, Hols. I won’t be too long.’
‘It’s fine. I don’t think I’m going to be rushed off my feet, somehow.’
‘No, maybe not.’ They had only seen a handful of people in the last hour; some had drifted past the window looking at the display, but hardly anyone was coming in.
For Holly and Adam, the young man from the hotel, romance was blooming. He still called in for his weekly chocolates for his gran, but also added a box of whatever Holly was fancying that day, which was very sweet. They had been on several dates over the summer and they also liked to borrow Alfie for walks on the beach, which her spaniel was very happy to accommodate. Adam seemed to be a real nice lad, and Emma was so pleased for Holly. It was lovely to see their young relationship developing.
Soon she was out on the open road, driving along country lanes that wound their way along the coastal route, a glimpse of sea here and there, roadside cottages and farms, hedgerows, fields with cattle and sheep grazing. She loved this county of Northumberland; it felt so much like home.
Holly went out the back to get some more packaging supplies and was coming through from the kitchen area, armed with colourful reels of ribbons and cellophane bags, when the shop door clanged, and a rather good-looking, if slightly on-the-old-side-for-her, man came in (not that she was looking, anyhow, she was so happy with Adam, but you couldn’t help but notice some things). He reminded her of Gerard Butler in the film P.S. I Love You – tall, well-built in that muscle-toned kind of way. He had cropped brown hair and a short, stubbly beard.
‘Hi.’ She smiled.
‘Hey.’
‘Can I help?’
‘Ah, are you the owner of the shop?’ She half expected him to have an Irish accent, but no. Just English, with a hint of the local Geordie in fact.
‘No, that’s Emma. She’s not in just now.’
‘Oh …’ He seemed a little taken aback.
‘Can I take a message for her, or anything?’
‘Ah, no, that’s fine. I was only bobbing in on the off-chance. It’s okay. Thanks, anyway.’
He didn’t seem interested in looking at the chocolate for sale; perhaps he was with Health and Safety or an Environment Agency or something, Holly mused.
The man turned to leave and she couldn’t help but notice the muscled curve of his butt in his jeans. With his smart leather jacket and slightly rugged appearance he certainly didn’t seem like a candidate for a Health & Safety inspector at all. Oh well.
Holly got on with making up some gift boxes ready to fill with truffles, and restocked some of the shelves. They’d have to start thinking about their Christmas display soon. Emma liked to have that all set up around the October school half-term time and Holly loved the shop when it was decorated for the festive season – it was just so pretty. Before she worked there she’d loved popping in with her friends and she was so glad she’d escaped from the chip shop job. Just think, she’d have been skipping off to see Adam with greasy, fat-smelling hair – now it was all yummy chocolate aromas. They’d arranged to see each other later today, in fact. They were meeting after work, and he was – drum-roll – going back to her house to meet her parents for supper. Things were definitely moving on. In fact, she felt a little nervous for him, hoping that they would all get on really well. She texted him whilst there were no customers: See you later x Can’t wait for you to meet Mum and Dad! x
Fingers crossed I’ll make a good impression! x
You will. It’ll be fine. After all, you made a big impression on me! xx J
Her dad would no doubt ask loads of questions, wanting to make sure he was a suitable lad, and Mum would be trying to make it all relaxed, and have a nice meal prepared for them for sure. The last she’d heard, her mum was making a roast chicken dinner – a roast chicken inquisition, ha!
Emma got back to The Chocolate Shop about thirty minutes after the handsome visitor had called.
‘Agh, the traffic was awful coming back. Got stuck behind a tractor and a queue of vehicles on the coast road. Ten miles an hour. Sorry! So, all been fine here, then? No mad rush?’
‘No, just the usual. Actually, that’s not quite right, some guy came in, asking to see the owner.’
‘Oh, okay. Don’t worry, might be some sales person, or possibly a trading standards official or something doing a drop-in check,’ Emma mused aloud.
‘I don’t think so. He didn’t look that kind of official council type.’ There was a second’s silence, before Holly resumed, ‘More of a Gerard Butler lookalike. Quite good-looking, really. I don’t know why he was here, he wouldn’t say.’
It couldn’t be, could it …? Emma felt her pulse race. She found herself stopped in her tracks in the middle of the shop. ‘Oh, umm, how old would you say he was? Hair colour?’ She tried to sound casual.
‘Not sure, maybe fortyish. Hard to say, he didn’t really look old, but then his face was a bit lived-in.’
‘Hah, tell me about it. And forty is not in any way old!’ Emma laughed. Or maybe it was when you were only seventeen.
‘Umm, brown hair, built. Stubbly beard. Attractive.’
OMG – it sounded so like him. Mr Kiss. The one and only time he turns up at the shop, and she wasn’t bloody here!
‘Did he say anything about calling back, or leave a number or anything?’
‘Nope.’
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?
The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop Page 10
