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Adam smiled as he picked up one of the filled boxes in white.
‘I have tried to colour theme the ribbon to your logo too,’ Emma added chirpily. This wasn’t as difficult as she had feared, though actually getting a yes would be the hard bit.
‘So, how much are we actually talking price-wise?’ Adam asked.
‘Well, looking at all my costs. and hoping for an order of at least fifty boxes to start, I could price at ninety-five pence per box.’
He did that hmm, thoughtful noise, giving nothing away.
‘It is twenty-five pence cheaper than I sell them for in the shop,’ Emma tried.
She took a sip of coffee, trying to divert the tension that was now creeping up inside her.
‘I like the idea,’ Adam started with a small smile, ‘but …’
Why was there always a ‘but’?
‘I’d need to discuss it with our manager, Helen. Especially with the costs involved. But the chocolate boxes do look great and, having sampled your truffles myself, I know just how good they are.’ His smile broadened. ‘Leave it with me. Do you have a card or anything with the number to call you?’
‘Yes.’ She dug a business card from her handbag and handed it across. ‘Thanks for considering this, and if you or Helen need any more information, or want to talk further just let me know.’
‘We’ll let you know one way or the other soon.’
‘Thank you.’ She finished her coffee, then they both stood and shook hands once more.
‘Oh, and say hello to your assistant from me – the dark-haired young lady. I didn’t catch her name?’
Emma could have sworn Adam’s cheeks were reddening.
‘Holly.’
‘Ah, Holly. Okay. Thanks.’
‘I will do. Thanks for your time this morning, and the coffee.’
‘You’re welcome. I think it’s important for local businesses to try and support each other. On that note, would you mind popping a few of our flyers in the shop?’ He took a batch from a coffee table in the corner.
‘That’s no problem at all. Of course.’
With that, she turned to leave. The hotel seemed lovely – comfy, friendly, airy and light. Perfect for a holiday by the sea. She’d gladly put some brochures out for them on her countertop. She waved goodbye to Laura as she passed. Once Em got outside the cool air struck her and she felt a bit wobbly at the knees.
She had tried her best. Now all she could do was wait.
12 (#ulink_7bc55550-c36d-551b-8dfe-d1b6683d7ddc)
What a week it had been! The run-up to Valentine’s Day, the landlord’s visit, and pitching for the hotel business. It had been all go, go, go, making chocolate hearts – dark choc with mint chips and white chocolate with mini strawberry pieces – assorted truffles, with an extra batch of the Irish Cream and champagne flavours, fudge bags, and her new mini ‘hat boxes’ made of chocolate and filled with truffles. They were so pretty, and proving popular.
And, yes! Adam had phoned her yesterday to say the hotel manager had loved the samples and the idea. They were willing to try an initial fifty boxes, if she could just get them there for Valentine’s Day as that would be a perfect time to start. So it had been a very late night indeed.
Emma’s hands were sore from tempering all the chocolate she needed (she did have a machine that was a great help, but she had so much to make she was hand-tempering too) and her fingers ached from the intricate work – the piping, filling, mixing – and on top of that her feet were sore. Last night, even though it had been well after midnight when she’d finished the last batch of the day, she’d soaked in a huge bubbly bath for a full hour until the water had gone cold. But she’d been up early at 6.00 a.m. this morning as it was Valentine’s Day tomorrow, so she was making more of the chocolate ‘hat boxes’, as over half of them had already sold. It was hard work, but also lovely seeing everyone come in to choose their special gifts on the lead up to the big day: young lads of about twelve years old up to elderly gents, women, little girls wanting something for Daddy, a flow of customers looking for just the right thing, or sometimes needing a little inspiration. Emma enjoyed suggesting some of the current favourites or a new flavour she was trying out. It was so nice to think her chocolate creations were going to be gifted and hopefully make someone smile – that was one of the best things about being a chocolatier.
Holly had helped her yesterday afternoon, being a Sunday, and was coming in again today straight from the school bus, which was a godsend. It was hard to make the chocolates and serve, so if Emma needed to make up any last-minute batches she could. Or, if (fingers crossed) there was a busy run of customers, at least there were two of them to keep the queue down.
This week’s sales so far, along with the fabulous hotel order – hopefully the first of many – had thankfully lifted the finances, and she had now saved nearly enough for next month’s rent hike – yes! So she was going to write that letter tonight, as soon as the shop closed, and send it off to her landlord first thing tomorrow.
Of course, her supplies were now low, so she’d have to put in another online order for the high quality Belgian chocolate callets she used as the base for all her creations. She could cover her bills for now, but it would still be a juggle, and there was never much left for any luxuries (or indeed some of the necessities) for herself. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had bought any new clothes, but it wasn’t as though she was off anywhere glamorous. The beach for walks with Alfie and the cottage, kitchen, and shop were her main bases. At work she always wore a black apron (to hide the inevitable chocolate smears), teamed with black trousers and a plain white T-shirt; it didn’t really matter what was underneath as long as it was clean.
Five o’clock rolled around so quickly. It had been another hectic day, with a rush over the lunch hour. Emma had managed a bite of Marmite on toast at around 2.30 p.m. for her lunch with a quick cup of coffee. She loved good coffee, and when she had time would grind her own beans. It was one of the few things she spent a little more on – having a really lovely cup of coffee from her cafetière really perked her up, especially on hectic days like this. She had been so glad when Holly arrived about an hour ago.
The door chimed and in dashed the young man from the hotel. He was checking his watch. ‘Sorry, are you about to close?’
‘Oh, hi, Adam. No, you’re fine. We’re opening a little later tonight, with it being Valentine’s Day tomorrow.’ Emma smiled.
She could swear she could feel the heat rise in the room. Holly was blushing furiously beside her.
‘How’s the hotel order going?’ he asked. He looked slightly uncomfortable.
‘Oh, you didn’t need the mini boxes for the hotel today, did you?’ She felt her heart race. She was sure they’d said for Valentine’s Day, and had planned to get them finished and delivered first thing in the morning. She felt a little anxious – she couldn’t afford to screw this up already.
‘Oh no, tomorrow is fine. Helen said for Valentine’s Day.’
‘So, how can we help today?’ Emma asked brightly, feeling relieved, as she shifted slightly out of the counter area. ‘Holly, would you mind helping here? I have another batch of dark chocolate hearts to make.’
‘Of course … so, what would you like? The usual, is it, coffee creams and the orange creams?’
‘Aah, yes, please …’
Emma couldn’t help but listen in as she walked slowly towards the inner door of the shop. He sounded uncertain, as though that wasn’t what he was in here for at all. She paused just in the doorway, curious.
Holly got the box out ready, four of each flavour as per usual. Wrapped them up, did the purple gift bow, and then weighed and priced them, which came to the normal five pounds twenty.
‘Um …’ He sounded a little uncomfortable. ‘I’d like something else. Another gift box, one like that, but a bit bigger this time.’
Emma could imagine Holly’s shoulders sinking at that point, though she’d be trying her best to disguise it.
‘And what would you like in this one, some truffles and ganaches from the counter, maybe?’
‘Yes, a selection, please. I’m not sure which – what kind of things would you recommend?’
‘Well, I love these Baileys truffles, so definitely a couple of those, and Emma has just been making a new passion fruit filling, so you could try that. The raspberry and white choc is very good too, as is the hazelnut praline.’
‘Any more favourites?’ he prompted.
‘Yes, there’s the salted caramel, better not miss that. They really are delicious.’
‘Two of them as well, in that case.’
She had filled all twelve cases now. ‘Done?’
‘Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.’
‘What kind of gift-wrapping?’ Holly asked, still managing to sound cheerful.
‘I’ll let you decide.’
So she went for a bright pink bow and ribbon, which she tied beautifully.
Emma was now spying subtly from the inner doorway. Bless her, Holly was being so helpful, even though she was probably feeling gutted inside. The tension in her assistant’s fingers was apparent, however, as she struggled to tie the bow.
‘Right, so together that’ll be twelve pounds fifty, please.’
She popped the two boxes in one of their crisp white paper bags.
The young man paid, then gave Holly a smile, which she returned wistfully.
‘Bye, then,’ she said.
‘Thanks. Bye.’ He turned at the last, with a nod.
After the door to the shop closed, Em heard Holly let out a long, low sigh. As she peered further around the door frame, she saw the young girl’s head drop and her hand lift to sweep away a stray tear. ‘Life is sooo not fair.’
She just had to go and give her assistant a hug.
13 (#ulink_8ec870a0-25ae-5919-bdc5-b4a9a46e3568)
The big day had arrived, Valentine’s Day, and Emma was awake before her six o’clock alarm.
Luke would have brought her flowers, no doubt have planned to take her out for supper. They’d only had five Valentine’s Days when they were meant to have a whole lifetime of them. It was two months before it happened that they had got engaged. They had been so full of hope. It was their future together that had been taken away: Christmases, wedding anniversaries, a wedding day, their children … grandchildren.
It still hit her hard, every now and again. The years didn’t seem to dim the pain, they just spread out the time when it jolted through her. She turned on the lamplight. Being February, it was still dark at this time of the morning, and she looked at Luke’s photo there next to her bed.
Right then, time to get up. There was one more batch of salted caramel truffles to make. Come on, Em, last big push, you can do this thing, she chivvied herself on as she raised her weary limbs from the comfy mattress.
First, she let Alfie out into the yard and fed him his breakfast in the little kitchen upstairs, grabbing herself a piece of wholemeal toast and butter and a large mug of tea. Her morning wake-up routine.
Down to the main working kitchen at the back of the shop, hands washed, thin hygienic gloves on, stainless-steel board in place on the work surface, chocolate callets ready to melt in a bowl – the dark 70% cocoa today, and the moulds in place. The kitchen window overlooked the back yard of the cottage. It was paved with flagstones with a high stone wall around it. She kept pots of herbs and daffodils that were only just poking a green tip up. In summer, there were colourful geraniums and petunias, but for now the courtyard was still rather bare. In the half light, a little robin sat at the water trough cheering things up, singing away. The early-flowering clematis that scaled the wall to one side would be out soon too; it would soon become a mass of pale pink blossom. Roll on March and the spring! She popped the radio on, listening to the music and chat of Radio 2, Chris Evans and the gang keeping her company until 8.30 a.m. when she took Alfie for a quick walk down to the beach, a brief reward, before the long day ahead.
The fresh sea air with its tang of salt perked her up with the white-crested waves rolling to shore. She found it calming down here, loved the sweeping arc of the bay, the ever-changing light and colours of blues, greys, ochre-blonde sands and the peachy hint of sunrise or sunset, depending on what time of the day or year she was there. Alfie enjoyed his runabout this morning, doing his classic spaniel loop in joyful circles around her as his grand finale.
‘Right, let’s get back, Alfie. I have one busy day ahead.’
As soon as she got back she completed the hotel order, sealing the bases of the raspberry ganaches with more chocolate. She had a small production line going. Next, she needed to make up the pretty gold boxes ready to fill and hand-tie with blue ribbon. She managed to deliver them all to the hotel before opening the shop at 10.00 a.m., when her ‘official’ working day started. Phew!
Then it was all go again, with customers waiting at the door for bang-on opening time, and there were telephone orders, and a constant stream of business all day. Her shelves were looking rather depleted by lunchtime as she’d been busy for the last two days as well. But that was all for the good for her finances, if not her feet!
That afternoon, Emma found herself stifling a yawn. It was only 3.30 p.m. – at least two hours to go. Her early start – in fact, a whole week of early starts and late finishes – was catching up on her. A momentary lull in the shop made her realise how shattered she was.
She served a gentleman who looked in his fifties, whom she recognised as being a regular visitor to the village. He said how much his wife loved her chocolates and he’d diverted off the A1 main road especially on his way back from working in Edinburgh for a few days to take her a box back for Valentine’s Day. Aw, how sweet.
A few minutes later, the shop door chimed and in breezed Holly, who’d agreed to help after school again.
‘Hi, Em!’
‘Afternoon, Holly. It’s good to see you, it’s been really busy.’
‘Ah yes, the big day! Happy Valentine’s.’
‘Thanks! Have you had any surprises? Cards from secret admirers, or the like?’ Em asked her assistant.
‘No, sadly not, but there’s still time. I can live in hope.’ She laughed. ‘And you? Any cards?’
‘Now come on, Holly, don’t be daft.’
‘Not even Malteser Man?’
Emma had shared the disastrous-date tale with Holly to cheer her up one day.
‘Hah, I think I’d burn a card from him.’
Jeez, just imagine if he actually did call in to surprise her with a Valentine’s gift – maybe another grab bag of Maltesers? Hah, what a nightmare!
‘I think I’ll go and make us a coffee, Holly. I was flagging a bit there. It might keep us going.’
‘Good idea. Actually, would it be a pain if I had a hot chocolate? I really fancy that.’
‘Of course you can. You deserve it for helping me out so much this week. And I shall put on that swirly cream you like and mini marshmallows.’ She remembered there were some left from making the Rocky Road chocolate bars.
‘Okay, yes, that’d be fab. Delish.’
Emma was turning to go, when she spotted Holly’s head shoot up. The door chimed, and in walked the young man from the hotel.
‘Hello,’ Holly said rather cautiously from her position behind the counter.
‘Hi.’
‘I’ll just head out back, make our drinks,’ Emma said loudly, to give them a little space. She had seen what he was carrying and was smiling to herself, hoping. She couldn’t help but hover by the door to listen in, though.
Adam stood at the far side of the counter, looking slightly awkward.
Em could almost sense Holly holding her breath.
‘Umm … these are for you …’ he spoke softly.
‘Oh, how lovely!’ There was a little quiver in Holly’s voice. At just seventeen, she had never been given flowers before.
Emma gave a little air punch in the back hallway. Her instincts had been right all along.
Out in the shop, the young man was handing over a huge bouquet of beautiful pink and white flowers, with roses and carnations and lilies, all tied up with a large pink bow, the exact colour Holly had suggested for the box of custom-picked chocolates the day before.
