The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop

by Caroline Roberts

  ‘Come on, Alfie. Time to go, boy.’

  She’d better get back, back to The Chocolate Shop where she knew what was what and where she was meant to be.

  20

  The next day, Sunday, the shop door clanged and in marched a sprightly sixty-year-old, her hair set in neat grey curls, with a concerned-looking Adam in tow.

  ‘It’s so lovely to meet you at last.’ The lady had the bluest eyes with a hint of sparkly mischief about them. She was thrusting her hand across the counter towards Emma.

  ‘This is my gran. I couldn’t keep her away,’ explained Adam.

  ‘Well, lovely to meet you.’ Emma shook her hand warmly.

  ‘It’s Shirley, by the way.’

  ‘Emma.’

  ‘Yes, Holly’s said so much about you, Emma, and about the shop here. I just had to come and see it for myself. Our Adam invited me across to the hotel for tea and cake this morning. He’s doing so well there and I’m so proud of him – assistant manager, you know.’

  Adam was grimacing at this point.

  ‘Well, when my grandson said he had to call down for the turndown chocolates, I said why didn’t I come along too? I’m so glad I did! Oh, and your chocolates are a real delight. Those coffee and orange creams, they’re my favourites. They really do melt in your mouth.’

  ‘Thank you. That’s lovely to hear.’

  Shirley finally took a breath and took in the shop around her. ‘Well, isn’t it delightful in here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a pretty shop … the cottage building, the chocolate displays, everything about it. In fact, I can’t believe I’ve never called in before. Though I’m not often this way to be fair. I live at Seahouses,’ she explained, ‘keep myself busy over that way, helping with the coffee mornings for the old people. The Golden Oldies’ Club, we call it. Actually—’

  Adam stepped in, wondering what his gran might be building up to next. ‘That’s great, Gran, but I’m sure Emma’s busy. It was just a quick hello, and I need to collect the chocolates for the hotel and get back soon. I am technically working.’

  ‘Ah, yes, of course. He’s such a good boy.’

  ‘Gra-an.’ He cringed. ‘You make me sound like I’m about six.’

  ‘Sorry, Adam. Can’t help myself.’

  Emma had to smile. Despite the banter, they were obviously fond of each other.

  ‘But, just quickly, Emma.’ Shirley was off again. ‘I was going to mention that we have a Christmas fete coming up for the old people. It’s usually a smashing event and we have all sorts of stalls. A chocolate stall might go down really well for a change. It’d be profitable, for sure. It’s always well attended.’

  ‘Certainly food for thought, Shirley. If you could give Holly some more details, I’ll definitely consider it.’ Any schemes for raising the shop’s profits were always welcome. ‘But I’d best go and get these chocolates for the hotel now. They’re all ready out the back, Adam. I won’t be a minute.’

  Adam smiled, somewhat relieved. ‘Thank you.’

  His gran was a one-woman whirlwind, but Emma had warmed to her straight away. She was obviously a doer, a busy bee. Emma identified with that working spirit and talking Christmas events with Shirley started her thinking about her Christmas lines. She’d soon need to source the more unusual ingredients and buy in all the festive wrappings. During a quiet spell that afternoon, she found herself daydreaming about the pretty gift bags and boxes you could order with snowflakes, holly, and all sorts of designs on, as well as ribbons and bows in golds, silvers, reds and green. Emma liked to have a different theme for each Christmas season, so would be looking for inspiration on which colours and styling she’d feature in the window display and throughout the shop. You could really go to town creatively at Christmas. She loved it when the shop looked beautiful and magical – just perfect for that special time of year.

  The door went with its usual chiming clang. She looked up, and froze.

  Oh. My. Word!

  She’d known she’d recognise him if she ever had the chance to set eyes on him again. Emma felt herself go all hot and flustered. He was still as gorgeous. She hadn’t dreamt that up, or over-exaggerated in her mind.

  ‘Hel-lo.’ Her voice came out a pitch higher than usual.

  ‘Hi.’ His voice was as warm and smooth as tempered chocolate.

  ‘So, you were real!’ The words spilled out of her mouth and she cringed as she said them.

  He gave her a broad smile in response. ‘Yup.’

  ‘And yesterday, Holly said that …’ Emma was finding it hard to form full sentences.

  ‘Yes, I called in. Unfortunately, when you were out. I just hoped the shop hadn’t changed hands since I met you.’

  Thank heavens she hadn’t had to give up the lease.

  ‘Yes, it’s still me here.’ She gave a shy smile. ‘Can I help with anything? Are you wanting some chocolates?’ He might just be here to buy something, after all.

  ‘Well then, what would you recommend?’

  ‘Umm, the salted caramels are really delicious, and the choc-dipped fudge is always popular.’

  ‘I’ll try some of each then. Thanks.’

  So maybe he was here just for some chocolates. She sorted the confectionary into gift bags, trying to still the trembling in her fingertips. She hoped no other customers would come in just now; she wanted time to have a chat, though she really didn’t know what she was going to say. He’d cropped up so many times in her mind these past months. He couldn’t just pick up the sweets and walk back out that door, could he?

  Oh damn. He was paying, putting his wallet away, picking up the gift bag. ‘Lovely shop you have here.’

  ‘Thanks … Umm …’ She had to stall him.

  ‘Ah …’ he started. They looked at each other.

  She realised she still didn’t know his name. ‘I’m Emma by the way.’ She held out her hand.

  ‘Hello, Emma. Max.’

  Max, yes that suited him. So, Mr Kiss was called Max. And he took her hand in his warm, steady palm.

  ‘Max Hardy.’

  ‘Nice to meet you … again, Max.’ There, she’d planted the seed, reminding him of their moment together on the beach.

  ‘I was actually wondering what time you close? As in, would you like to go for a drink or something, or a coffee, maybe?’ His voice was calm, quietly confident.

  Inside her head, she did a huge air punch, and a silent woop!

  ‘Umm, well yes, that would be lovely. I finish at five, but I do have to take Alfie, my dog, out for a quick walk then.’

  ‘Ah yes, Alfie. The spaniel.’ He was nodding. ‘Cute little guy, brown and white.’

  Aw, he remembered.

  ‘Yep, that’s the one.’

  ‘Well, I could always come with you for the walk – if you didn’t mind, that is.’

  ‘I don’t mind at all. What about if we meet at the car park by the beach? Say five fifteen.’

  ‘Great. And then, maybe, we can go for a drink together after that?’

  ‘Maybe, yes.’ Heart performing double somersault flip.

  ‘See you soon, then.’ He turned to go, taking his bag of chocolates.

  She watched as he walked away from her to the door. Tall, muscular under those jeans, trendy leather jacket, dark cropped hair.

  ‘Okay, see you later, Max.’ She sounded cool, but felt very much like doing the Tigger bounce that Holly had perfected a few months before.

  Was this really happening, after all those times wondering what had on earth had happened to him, where he had gone? Why had it taken so long for him to come back? Hopefully, she’d soon get the chance to find out.

  The metallic-grey jeep was there, parked up by the dunes, looking out to sea.

  Emma’s heart squeezed upwards and felt like it was lodged somewhere in her throat. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or fear. And for a moment she was sideswiped by thoughts of Luke as a pang of guilt hit hard. What would he be thinking, her fiancé? Would it be b
reaking his heart to see her get all excited about meeting this guy? Yes, she knew Luke had left her, but in so many ways he still felt so close.

  She felt a bit weird. There was still time to bolt. But then there was Max, standing up outside his car, giving her a small wave. She had been waiting for this moment. She felt a little sick. Alfie spotted him too and started pulling eagerly on the lead, propelling her towards him.

  What if Max was a bit odd, though? She hardly knew him, after all. He might seem nice enough, but there could still be that axe in the boot of his car. She suddenly regretted agreeing to meet him on a half-empty beach, and she hadn’t even told anyone where she was going. Would Alfie protect her? She’d never seen him act fiercely in his life – he’d more likely roll over on his back for a tummy rub or hand her over for half a sausage. Thanks to Alfie they were still hurtling towards Max.

  ‘Hey.’ He smiled at her, then knelt down to give Alfie a rub around the ears.

  He didn’t seem like an axe murderer. Emma smiled back. ‘Hi.’

  ‘It’s good to see you again.’ His eyes were a deep hazel-green, intense in a melt-you kind of way.

  And with that look, she knew they were both remembering that moment nine months before in that very same spot.

  Down on the beach, the early evening light was beginning to fade from a pale azure to a soft peachy glow and the waves rolled gently in to shore. Alfie was off his lead and happily scampering around.

  ‘So … how have you been?’ Max asked.

  ‘I’m okay, thanks. You?’

  ‘Great, yeah. So, how’s life at the sharp end of the chocolate industry?’

  ‘Pretty good. Keeps me busy and on my toes. Now we’re nearly into October, business will start to build for the festive season and the run-up to Christmas is always hectic. I’ll be having a permanent production line on the go in my kitchen.’

  ‘Sounds interesting. I’m a bit of a chocolate fan.’

  Oh, yes. It gets better all the time.

  ‘Must admit it’s more of a Yorkie bar or a Toffee Crisp with our breaktime bait for me, though,’ he admitted.

  ‘Hah – you heretic.’

  ‘I’m sure I could be persuaded to try something more refined.’ He grinned, with a cheeky sparkle in his eye.

  Was there an intentional double entendre there? Emma wasn’t quite sure.

  They followed the shoreline along the bay, avoiding some small pools of salt water near the rocks left by the outgoing tide. The sands were soft underfoot, the walking easy.

  ‘And what do you do for a living, then?’ Emma asked. ‘I don’t think I ever found out last time?’ In fact, she hadn’t found out much at all.

  ‘I’m a builder, have a small business of my own. I employ four men, year round, and contract in help on the bigger jobs. We do house renovations, extensions, occasionally a new-build. That kind of work.’

  ‘So, have you always been in the building trade?’

  ‘Well, my parents wanted me to be an accountant, that was my original path. I’d always been good at maths at school, and it seemed a sensible job. But I hated all the paperwork, the equations, pushing figures around on a page, stuck in an office. I couldn’t see that being my life. It was never meant for me. So, I flunked out of uni after the first year, much to my parents’ disappointment. I didn’t want to be pushing a pen. I wanted to push a wheelbarrow, hold a drill, a saw. I was always tinkering with stuff at home, trying out DIY projects. Wonky shelves in my bedroom, that kind of stuff.’

  Emma laughed, imagining him wielding hammers and saws as a teenager.

  ‘Anyway, I got myself an apprenticeship with a building firm. Started off lackeying – all the shit jobs to start, basically, then learnt how to lay bricks, plaster, plumb. I worked hard, learnt on the way, until I got made a supervisor, leading the team on site when the owner wasn’t around. Then Fred, the guy who owned the company, got ill, had to retire early. I got a loan and bought the business as a going concern. Never looked back. So, that’s me.’

  ‘Interesting. So you found your own way.’ She liked that – that he knew himself, what he wanted, and had worked hard to achieve it.

  ‘So, where’s the company based?’ She realised she was hoping it wasn’t miles away, maybe down south, and this wasn’t some kind of an annual trip.

  ‘Hexham way.’

  ‘Ah, okay.’ That was about an hour’s drive away.

  ‘I live in a village just outside the town. It’s small, friendly, suits me fine. We tend to do a lot of work in that area, as well as in Newcastle and Gateshead, so it’s an ideal location.’

  ‘Oh, I love Hexham.’ She’d been there on several day trips. Had also been there with Luke for a weekend break. She remembered them walking down by the river, the stunning old abbey, the narrow streets, tea and cake at a gorgeous tea rooms, holding Luke’s hand … She chewed the inside of her mouth. This was harder than she’d thought it would be – going for a walk with someone else. She looked out to sea for a second or two, concentrating on the flat, dark-grey line of the horizon. The swoop of a gull caught her eye nearer the shore, bringing her back to the here and now.

  ‘Yeah, it’s a nice town.’ Max broke the silence.

  ‘Yes … So,’ She was edging nearer the question that was burning in her mind, ‘how’s your year been so far?’ Where the hell have you been these past nine months? was what she really wanted to ask. But she hardly knew this guy. He didn’t have to explain himself.

  ‘Fine, pretty busy. We had a new-build project for two properties near the Close House golf club, Heddon way. Right fancy-pants stuff, six bedrooms each. That was fun, though the project manager was never off our backs. Kept me out of mischief.’

  So maybe it was just work had kept him occupied. Maybe he just hadn’t thought of her much ’til now.

  He stopped walking, looked at her seriously. ‘I’m sorry … that I couldn’t come back sooner.’

  Emma stopped too. Felt a little surge somewhere near her heart. Didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Things happened,’ he continued, ‘that I didn’t expect …’

  ‘Are you with someone?’ Emma blurted out. She had to know. The way she was starting to feel just seeing him again, tied up in emotional knots already, it had to stop right here if he was in a relationship. She’d been through enough hurt and pain to know better than to go near a man who was already taken. Besides her own self-preservation, she wouldn’t want to hurt someone else, some poor woman she’d never met. It was never worth it – life was complicated enough without hurting other people. If so, she’d thank him politely for walking with her, head off home with Alfie, and never see him again.

  They stood facing each other, two figures on the expanse of beach. Two lives on the edge of something pivotal.

  ‘No, no. There’s no one else – not any more.’

  The words were telling. So, there had been someone. ‘Oh …’ So the kiss, that special moment she’d built up in her mind, had he been seeing someone all along?

  ‘It’s over now … I hadn’t forgotten you.’ His green eyes held her own. They seemed earnest, trustworthy, but how could you tell?

  Me neither, she thought but didn’t say. She felt fragile, unsure of what was going on here.

  ‘Right.’ She finally spoke. She wanted to know more, but they’d only just met and it didn’t seem right to launch into twenty questions. She realised she hardly knew this guy at all: most of it had been created in her own mind.

  ‘Well then, tell me all about life here at Warkton?’ He sounded like he wanted the focus off him. ‘What’s been happening here? It looks pretty sleepy, but I bet there’s more to it than meets the eye.’ Emma felt that could apply to Max too.

  ‘Well, it’s been an interesting year. I’ve been trying to source some new business as well as keep the shop going. And with making all the chocolates myself, that takes a lot of time.’

  ‘Yeah, running your own business is never easy, is it? You work all hours, have you
r staff to look after, and there’s a million rules and regulations to comply with. Our industry is a health and safety nightmare, keeping up with all the latest stipulations. Only right, really, but sometimes, honestly – how to climb a ladder training, how to hold a hammer?’ He gave a wry grin. ‘We’ve been climbing ladders and hammering nails in for twenty bloody years and now we’ve got to train for it?’

  ‘Tell me about it. I’ve got to keep up with all the health and hygiene regs, and all sorts. It’s not just making chocolate. I didn’t know the half of it when I started.’

  ‘I bet.’

  ‘I do love it, though. Can’t imagine doing anything else now. And yes, though the hours are long, it’s great knowing the business is mine and I can run it how I want. There’s no one to tell me what to do.’

  They passed a middle-aged couple out walking their terrier. Said a brief ‘hello’ as the dogs circled each other, then resumed their stroll.

  ‘What did you do before then? I take it you came to chocolatiering from another career.’

  ‘Yes, I was a teacher. Secondary modern. I used to teach home tech, so cookery basically. That was the link really, baking, trying out recipes with chocolate.’

  ‘Ah, okay.’

  ‘Now teaching, a whole other ball game, that was. I didn’t mind the actual teaching of the kids. But the powers that be kept changing the rules, and the testing and paper trails you needed to record and monitor everything … The worst thing was, you’d just get used to one way, and then the whole system would change again. For me, it just felt that teaching had lost its heart, somehow. And then – then life changed for me, personally.’ She stopped. It was her turn to hold back, realising she had said too much already.

  Max politely left it at that, for which she was grateful, turning the conversation to movies and music.

  They reached the far end of the bay where the rock pools started and carpets of lime-green seaweed clung to craggy outcrops, making walking over them slippery and dangerous. Alfie wasn’t put off, however, and dived in to one of the deeper pools, then came out to shake himself off vigorously beside them – an arc of spray showering them with salty droplets.