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‘You’re lucky. It’s a really scenic place. Bit wild here today, mind, but I kind of like that.’
She was trying to place his accent. A hint of the local North Eastern Geordie, but well spoken.
‘Yeah, Winter’s launched itself with a vengeance,’ she replied. ‘But I like that too, when the sea’s all wild, and the clouds are inky-grey and stormy.’
Alfie went off to investigate some clumps of seaweed on the tideline. They were nearly back at the dunes below the village that she usually walked back through. ‘I’m heading this way.’
‘Me too – I’ve got the car parked there,’ he clarified.
They smiled politely at each other, his smile reaching his intense dark eyes. If she wasn’t mistaken there was a slight frisson between them. But she wasn’t quite sure. She hadn’t actually fancied anyone since Luke. Was that what this was? Did she fancy him? Oh, wow.
‘Clearing your head this morning?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, you could say that.’ He looked thoughtful, as if there was more to it than he wanted to divulge.
The spikey marram grass of the dunes began and Emma started to climb the sandy track. She was aware that he was close behind, coming to a level with her as the path widened when they approached the beach car park. She sneaked a sideways look. He was, in fact, rather gorgeous with a tall, athletic frame, as much as she could tell under his Barbour-style jacket and jeans. All too soon they were at the car park in the dunes and he was saying that it had been nice meeting her and that he had to go.
Weirdly, she realised that she didn’t want that, as if there was already some connection between them. He stood and just looked at her for a few significant seconds and she guessed he might be feeling the same way too.
Then he stepped towards her, took her hand in his. His grasp was warm, smooth, gentle.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I think you’ve helped me make my decision.’
And then he moved closer again, looked right at her with those deep, dark green eyes, and leant in to kiss her delicately on the mouth. He smelt gorgeous, all cool-citrus aftershave, his body next to hers, warm and strong and real. She hadn’t been this near to a man in a long, long while. It was a surprise, yet it felt so very natural. The kiss became passionate, his arms around her now. One of her hands reaching up to his neck, stroking his hairline, as she pressed her lips firmly against his, finding his open mouth, his tongue. Oh boy.
Then he stopped, stepped back, with a surprised smile, ‘I’m sorry, I hope …’
‘It’s fine. It was nice.’ She suddenly felt shy.
‘Look, sorry, but I really do have to go. ’ He started to move towards his vehicle, a jeep type, pausing as he got there. ‘How can I find you?’
‘The chocolate shop in the village. You’ll find me there.’
‘Okay. Right.’ He processed the information, smiled at her, then ducked into the driver’s seat.
‘Your name … I don’t even know your name,’ Emma called. But the words were lost on the wind as he closed the vehicle’s door.
She watched, stunned, as he waved from behind the windscreen, and then drove off.
3 (#u181ada9f-9713-5c23-b2c9-1dfa4a8180e7)
So, what do you do after a rather handsome man has kissed you quite out-of-the-blue in a car park in the dunes? Well, you walk back, in a bit of a daze admittedly, wondering a) if that really did just happen and b) is he a nutter, possibly high on drugs, or a bit of a madman with an axe in his car boot? And then you head back home and go and make some chocolate bars.
Well, that’s what you do if you run a chocolate shop. Emma wandered back along The Wynding, a narrow lane that led from the beach, past the small harbour, where the coble fishing boats were moored, along to the stone cottages of the main street and The Chocolate Shop by the Sea.
She passed the first window which had the Christmas display she had so carefully set out several weeks before. There was a small, real pine Christmas tree with red and gold baubles and matching coloured tinsel, with little sparkly white lights. A wicker basket of her best chocolate gifts took pride of place, filled with chocolate snowmen and Santas, all handcrafted, alcohol-infused truffles, candied orange slices dipped in dark chocolate, and more. She’d soon have to empty it and come up with a fresh idea for January, she realised. Why did that make her feel rather glum?
Emma headed past the shop front and in through the adjacent alleyway to the back of the row of cottages, to keep a very sandy, wet Alfie away from the main shop. She unlocked the door, went on in, and headed straight up the stairs, as the downstairs kitchen was for chocolatier use only, and was a pet-free zone for health and hygiene reasons. She gave Alfie a rub-down with his old towel once they reached the top landing and settled him in his dog basket in the tiny kitchen she had in her cottage flat. Then, she carefully washed her hands, popped her hair up in a ponytail, and headed down to the shop’s kitchen to set about making a batch of chilli and lime dark-chocolate bars. She also made a batch of the latest flavour she’d created just before Christmas, ginger and cinnamon; perfect for a cold winter’s day.
Christmas was the busiest time of The Chocolate Shop’s year, and supplies were depleted. Naturally, the New Year period would be quieter. There would, of course, be that couple of weeks’ lull, where chocolate was the enemy and gym memberships were eagerly signed up to. She’d spot more people jogging on the beach for a while – and then they’d realise that what they really wanted to do on a cold, grey January day was to cosy up on the sofa, by the fire, with a chocolate treat and a good book.
She had taken a few days off for Christmas and closed the shop, giving Holly the week off too. The young girl had been chatting about her plans to go socialising with her friends, no doubt sporting her new iPhone she sooo hoped her parents had got her for Christmas, and the new outfits and shoes her Saturday job money was going to buy – a trip with her girlfriends to the Metro Centre and the sales was lined up for today.
The day passed quickly and quietly for Emma, working away, radio on, crafting her chocolates. Her mind drifted to the strange incident on the beach whilst she rolled a truffle centre between her palms. She wondered if that guy might appear at the shop … might he be staying locally? And what decision was it that she’d helped him to make? She kept an ear out for a knock on the door, but no, no sign of him. She decided to put it down to experience and get on with her working day, crafting truffles, boxing others up, making the displays look good, making a list of supplies to order. There was always something to keep her busy, to keep her mind focussed. Her little chocolate shop and Alfie were more than enough in her life.
After all, that guy could be anyone. In fact, who on earth went and kissed a complete stranger in a car park?
4 (#u181ada9f-9713-5c23-b2c9-1dfa4a8180e7)
New Year’s Eve loomed on the horizon – not Emma’s favourite night. She felt pressured to be out having a ‘great’ time, when all she really wanted to do was to stay at home, treat herself to a shot of Baileys in her hot chocolate, whilst watching a movie in her PJs and slippers, cuddled up with Alfie on the sofa. That way she could have an early night, so she didn’t have to see midnight in and didn’t have to think about facing another year alone.
Instead, she’d had her arm twisted by Bev, her closest friend, and Joanne, both from the village, so here she was in The Fisherman's Arms, having beer slopped down her back, party poppers thrust into her hands and any minute some strange guy’s lips would be thrust on hers in an attempt at wishing her a Happy New Year! Her mind slipped to the man on the beach again – he kept popping up in her thoughts, uninvited. She wondered what he was doing for New Year? She’d rather it was The Kiss, as she’d named him to herself, lined up next to her; that might not be too bad at all, rather than the portly middle-aged fisherman, reeking of a mix of lager and stale kippers, who seemed to be purposely edging into her zone. She downed a big gulp of white wine as Big Ben started to chime on the TV screen they had blaring out, and managed a swift side-cheek manoeuvre as the fisherman moved in for the inevitable kiss.
‘Happy New Year, pet!’ he slurred.
‘Happy New Year,’ she replied with a pasted-on smile.
Then Bev and her hubbie, Pete, found her, congratulating her with hugs and kisses.
‘Have a good one, Em.’ Bev hugged an arm around her.
‘Hope so. You too, my lovely friend.’
Even though Bev was nearly ten years older than Emma, the age gap just didn’t seem apparent. They had first met a few weeks after Emma had come to Warkton at a summer fete down by the harbour. Bev had said hello, then introduced her to several new faces in the village. Later they had chatted away, Bev intrigued by the opening of a chocolate shop in their village. She always joked that it was the talk of chocolate, not Emma herself, that first captured her attention and sealed their friendship.
Joanne and a few more acquaintances from the village moved to be beside her, pushing through the throng of revellers that were crammed in like sardines, with shouts of ‘Yay! Happy New Year, darling!’ whilst topping up Emma’s glass with bubbly. Danny came out from behind the bar to make the most of kissing a whole bunch of ladies at once, giving Emma a warm, friendly peck on the cheek, then moving along the row. ‘Happy New Year, gorgeous ladies.’
‘Hey, Em, my fab-ul-ous boss. Happy New Year, hunnn!’
There was Holly, in a bright red dress, brown wavy hair bouncing around her shoulders, with a slight slur to her voice, tottering beside her in high heels. ‘New shoes – aren’t they brilliant?’ She raised a leg, showing a bit too much thigh, which, judging by the grin on his face, Danny didn’t seem to mind, and indeed, her new black stiletto killer-heels.
‘Amazing – I don’t think I could even walk in them,’ Emma commented with a smile. ‘Happy New Year to you too, Hols.’
‘Have a good one, Em. Wonder what this year will bring? I’m looking for the man of my dreams … well, Tom will do.’ She laughed giddily, full of hope, and expectation, which was just how it should be at sixteen and three-quarters.
‘Well, I hope it’s a special year for you, Holly.’
There were more hugs and introductions to Holly’s group of young, vibrant friends.
New Year: a new chapter, a time for hopes and dreams, wishes and resolutions. Emma could only think about getting through tonight; tomorrow, a whole year, too much to take on. She still felt stuck. Yes, of course she’d find moments of happiness where she could; she had great friends, a wonderful family, and her very special chocolate shop, and for all of that she was thankful, but beneath it, her heart still felt sore.
Smile, chat, mingle some more, another round of drinks, one more glass of bubbly, and at last, just after 1.00 a.m., the chance for Emma to get back to her little cottage and her bed.
The next evening all was quiet in Emma’s small living room. New Year’s Eve had been survived and another New Year’s Day was over – well, nearly. Phew, she’d made it through another festive season and she could chill out a bit now with a slower few weeks in the shop, but it never lasted. Who would want to live in a world without chocolate, for heaven’s sake?!
Em snuggled up on the sofa, with Alfie content beside her.
For a second her mind flashed to the man on the beach on Boxing Day. Might he come back yet? Come and find her there in her little chocolate shop? A week had now passed since they’d met, but it was all a bit too bizarre. And, how would she feel if he really did? Wouldn’t it seem a bit stalkerish? He might have that axe lurking in the back of his pick-up, or perhaps she’d just imagined he was handsome, and he’d walk in with a crooked nose, squinty eyes, and yellow-stained teeth. But the image she had fixed in her mind was far from that. Anyhow, strangers just didn’t kiss you in a car park like that. Certainly not like that! Oh yes, it was all coming back vividly now. Boy, talk about making your toes tingle.
She smiled, remembering one of her Great-Aunt Emily’s phrases which she’d chided her with when she was a teenager: ‘Just because he makes your toes tingle, it doesn’t mean he’s right for you.’
Luke had made her toes tingle, mind you. Many times.
She sighed and stroked the soft fur of Alfie’s head. Though he’d been asleep, his tail responded instantly, thwacking down happily on to the sofa cushion.
‘We’re okay, aren’t we, Alfie?’
It was meant to be a statement, but it came out sounding like a question.
5 (#ulink_731655e7-25c9-57bd-9e6d-a2d749bcbce1)
Though the shop was closed for another day over the New Year break, Emma was in the kitchen early making up a batch of whisky truffles. She liked to keep herself busy, would spend the time off preparing for the next few weeks, and warming whisky truffles were always a good seller through the winter months.
She melted the dark chocolate, then warmed the whisky just to the point where a little vapour was coming off it, next she’d whisk them together. The smell was rather delicious, even this early in the morning. She’d look forward to trying one with a cup of rich coffee later. The ganache mix she’d made had to refrigerate for at least four hours before it would be ready to roll into the circular centres, ready to dip in melted dark chocolate. Bliss.
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 (#ulink_2090e7ef-28c7-56a1-8419-808ebc11737b)
‘January’s doing my head in.’
‘Hello, Bev,’ Emma recognised the voice of her best friend. ‘What’s up?’
