The Cosy Seaside Chocolate Shop: The perfect heartwarming summer escape from the Kindle bestselling author

‘Okay, okay. Just give me five minutes to finish my tea.’

‘O-kay.’

It always made Emma laugh seeing him trying to squeeze his well-built frame into the tiny tent-like play zone. He was often the ‘giant’ in whatever scene they were playing. And off he went, escorted by two five-year-olds to the play den, one holding each hand. He gave a mock look of horror to Emma, but she knew he didn’t mind. Hah, they might even get to paint his fingernails again. They had once before, in alternate colours of pink and silver, and he had begged Em to go to the village grocer’s for some remover, before he set off to work the next day. ‘I look like Eddie Izzard or something,’ he’d muttered. ‘I’ll never survive the ribbing from the lads if I don’t get rid.’

Em chatted with James and Chloe, catching up on her brother’s recent visit to her parents – she hadn’t had a chance to call across herself with the shop being so busy lately – whilst Max kept the girls happily occupied. She peeked into the lounge at one point to find them putting hair clips in his hair, which was a challenge with it being so short. They stayed for another half hour or so after Max managed to escape the den, chatting over a glass of wine, and then set off back to Warkton-by-the-Sea.

‘Max …’ Emma said in her car on the way home, ‘I couldn’t help but hear you and James talking earlier. Why hadn’t you told me about the job in Leeds?’ It had been simmering away in her mind. She concentrated on her steering as she reached a sharp bend in the country lane. Her fingers tensed.

‘I was going to – it just didn’t seem right last night when I’d only just got there. I wanted to relax and have a nice evening. I would have said something tonight.’

‘Oh. Well, with you away more, will I still get to see you?’ They only managed to snatch days together at the weekends as it was.

She sounded needy, she knew, and hated that. But she was just getting used to being in a relationship again, had only just let someone back into her heart. It felt odd, like a loss of independence, life had been a lot simpler for all those years on her own.

Simpler, but rather lonely, something inside reminded her.

Ah, relationships, they made you feel out of control, fuzzy at the edges somehow. Hah, that’s when they didn’t rip you apart.

To be fair on Max, working six days a week herself and also a Sunday afternoon at busy times, didn’t help matters. It was hard for both of them, with their homes an hour apart, leading different and hectic working lives. It was sometimes a miracle they had time to meet up at all. But the alternative, no Max, she didn’t like to think of that.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out like that.’ His green eyes gazing across the car at her were caring, his gentle smile honest.

How could she stay cross with him? ‘Ah, it’s okay.’ Her tone softened. Through the windscreen, the metallic blue of the sea came into view as they approached her village. She was more annoyed at herself for beginning to rely on him being there. She knew he had to be back at work early tomorrow, leaving her bed in the early hours and she didn’t want to spoil this evening. She had plans for them to walk on the beach with Alfie, before a cosy supper, a seat for two on the sofa by the fire, then hopefully making love once more. Having Max in her life was so much better than having him out of it.

3

‘How’s sexy lover boy, then?’

‘Morning, Bev.’ Thank goodness there were no customers in as yet. Em felt her cheeks tingle with a blush.

‘So,’ her friend continued angling, ‘good weekend?’

‘Yes, thanks … very good. And yes, Max did come up.’

Bev’s eyebrows arched cheekily. ‘Hmm,’ was all she uttered with a daft grin on her face.

‘… to stay.’ Emma completed the phrase, shaking her head.

‘Ah, if only I wasn’t already married!’ Bev was still grinning away. She loved teasing Emma. ‘Now I know why you were all ice maiden for six years: I think I would have been too if I knew that was the prize at the end of it.’

‘O-kay, enough!’ Yes, so Max was pretty good-looking, but really, despite being her best friend ever since her arrival in Warkton-by-the-Sea, Bev could sometimes take things a little too far. But still, the conversation had made her smile, she conceded.

‘Right, what do you need help with this morning, boss?’ Bev asked cheerily.

‘Well, I’d like to crack on in the kitchen with making some more ganaches and truffles. It’ll be a nice change from Easter eggs and that’ll replenish the stocks for the refrigerated counter. I fancy doing some Irish Cream truffles and trying out some new Red Velvet ones. I thought I might experiment with that flavour.’

‘Ooh, they sound nice. I am prepared to sacrifice my waistline to test any new chocolates out, you know.’

‘That’s no surprise. So, if you can just keep an eye on the shop and café whilst I’m in the back kitchen, I promise to bring through a couple to try once they are made.’

‘Can’t wait. We can test them out with morning coffee.’

‘Perfect.’

‘Oh, Em. I’ve brought in some miniature daffodils from my garden for the posy vases on the tables.’

‘Aw, thanks. That’ll cheer things up in here.’ It was a grey old day outside, the April sky heavy with cloud and the threat of rain. But hey-ho, it might just make a cosy chocolate shop café even more appealing to the tourists on their Easter holiday break.

The shelves behind Bev were stacked with chocolate bars in many flavours, packs of chocolate-dipped fudge, a counter with truffles and melt-in-your-mouth ganaches, moulded lollipops with puffins and teddy bears on, a few remaining Easter chicks and bunnies, and lots more. Emma loved the chance to change the selections by season and special holidays. Now the displays were brightly coloured for spring and Easter, with gift boxes in gold and white, and pretty cellophane packs with curls of ribbons in pinks, blues, greens and yellows.

Despite the grey skies outside, spring was very much in the air. The season of hope, new life and second chances.

There was a lull just after eleven and Emma made coffee for herself and Bev.

‘Coffee time,’ she called, bringing through a tray with a cafetière of coffee on, as well as a small plate with a selection of choc-chip shortbread, the new Red Velvet ganaches, and a couple of other chocolates to try.

‘Oh my, I think I’m actually going to drool.’ Bev’s eyes lit up. ‘How did I get so lucky as to work in a chocolate shop, with my bestie, no less?’ The novelty of helping out at The Chocolate Shop still delighted Bev. She also worked a couple of mornings as a receptionist at the doctors’ surgery in the next village, which had been her job for many years, but now she was also helping her friend, and this didn’t feel like work at all.

They settled themselves on stools to the side of the counter.

‘Now these are lemon meringue cups, and the new red velvet, and there’s a strawberries-and-cream bar in white chocolate that I’ve broken up to try. I’ll put some out as tasters on the counter shortly.’

Bev dived straight in, taking a bite of a lemon cup. ‘Oh wow, delicious!’

Em poured out the coffee, its rich aroma filling the shop.

‘I’ve been thinking …’ Bev started.

‘Now that could be dangerous!’

‘Hah.’ Bev looked indignant.

‘Go on.’

‘Well, you remember what a success your launch night for the chocolate café was? With all the chocolate and bubbly we had. And you’re always looking for ways to improve the shop, and bring in more money, of course …’

‘Ye-es.’ Em wondered where this might be going.

‘Well, what about prosecco-and-chocolate nights? Girlie nights, celebrations, that type of thing.’

‘Hmm.’ Emma sipped her coffee. ‘You might just be on to something there.’

‘Well, I’d love to go to something like that, so would lots of my friends, I’m sure. Something a bit different from going out into town or to the local pubs and clubs, getting pushed about in a crowd, your toes stood on and lager spilled down your back. Yes, chocolate nights in.’

‘Interesting … I know there’s all sorts of legal implications to consider for being licenced to serve alcohol for the prosecco, but I might just look into it. In fact, I think it could work well.’ Emma was always open to new ways to expand the business and protect her Chocolate Shop’s future. ‘Yes, I can picture it now. Hen do’s, small parties, birthdays. Maybe we could do a hands-on truffle-making session too, as part of the party.’ Her mind was on a roll now. ‘My cocktail-based ones might work well. The Pimm’s chocolate cups I did last summer, or the Pina Colada or Mojito truffles.’

‘Ooh, yes. Sounds brilliant. Of course, being my idea, it will be.’

Emma took a sip of coffee. ‘Hmm, I’m liking it, Mrs Walker. You might well be on to something. I’ll do some research. An extra string to The Chocolate Shop’s bow can only be a good thing. Whilst we’re going along nice and steady at the moment, who knows what’s around the corner?’ She remembered only too well the rent hike of last year, and her greedy landlord, Mr Neil, was always waiting in the wings. But more than that, it sounded a really lovely thing to do.

With that, the shop door chimed, and in came old Mrs Clark, one of their regulars. The elderly lady was well wrapped up in her coat and scarf, but she looked a little more stooped lately, and her face a little paler than usual.

Emma stood up to greet her. ‘Morning, Mrs C, and how are you today?’

‘Not so bad, Emma, not so bad.’ It was as though she was trying to convince herself. ‘Mind, that hill up’s a bit of a bugger. Gets steeper every time.’ Mrs Clark loved the ‘B’ word and used it prolifically. It always made Emma smile.

‘Well, come and have a seat, Mrs C. What can we get for you? The usual coffee? We have some nice chocolate cake, freshly made too, if you fancy?’

‘Just a cup of coffee, pet. That’ll be grand. And how are you two ladies?’ Mrs Clark settled herself into one of the window seats, placing her large handbag beside her and removing her woollen coat and patterned head scarf.

‘Good thanks,’ answered Bev. ‘We’re planning prosecco parties.’

‘My, that sounds fun. That’s what you young ones should be doing, having fun. Life’s too short not to enjoy it. We had some good parties in our time. I remember the old tea dances down at the village hall. Me and my Jim, back when we were courting – those were the days.’ Her grey-green eyes seemed to light up with the memories, then she smiled and sighed all at once.

‘Go on, tell me about it back then, Mrs C,’ Bev took up.

‘I’ll just go and fetch your coffee, Mrs Clark. Won’t be a minute,’ said Emma, knowing the story would still be in full flow on her return.

‘Thanks, pet.’

‘Well then, I do remember one of the tea dances in particular. I wasn’t supposed to be going out that night at all as my dad was still cross. You see, I’d been out with Jim to the pictures in Alnwick two days before, and somehow we’d missed the eight-fifteen bus home.’

Bev was nodding, enjoying the story. She liked to hear about the village in the old days.

‘Well,’ Mrs C continued, ‘if truth be told, I think we’d spent far too long kissing round the back of the picture house after the film. Lost track of time. Of course, there were no mobile phones, not even many telephone boxes back then, to let my parents know. Well, my dad was all burnt up with anger when I got back.’

‘Ah, he was probably just worried.’

‘Yes, but you don’t think the same when you’re young and in love. That was it, he said I wasn’t allowed out for another week. And warned me never to be late again.’

Emma returned with a cafetière of fresh coffee that gave off a gorgeous aroma. She’d popped a mini chocolate brownie on the side of Mrs C’s coffee cup for good measure.

‘Well then, my Jim had other plans. Little did I know he’d been planning a special night. He’d gone to call on my dad without me knowing – one, to apologise and two, to ask for something else.’

‘Ooh, and what was that?’

‘Suddenly, it all changed and I was allowed to go, my mother making a big fuss over my dress choice, which wasn’t like her at all. Well …’ The old lady grinned, her eyes twinkly at the memory. ‘He only went down on one knee in the middle of the dance floor. Oh, I still remember that so well, the band were playing Buddy Holly’s “True Love Ways”. Jim had asked for it specially, it was one of my favourites. I said “yes” straight away, of course.’

‘Aw, that’s such a lovely story,’ Em smiled.

‘True love, hey, Mrs C,’ Bev added.

‘Ay, those were the days.’

4

Even when you fall in love with someone new, you never stop loving and thinking of that first person – not when they had died only a few months before you were due to be married.

There was a phone call that Emma had been meaning to make for a few days now. That Monday evening she picked up her mobile and dialled.

‘Angela, hello. It’s Emma.’

‘Oh Emma, how lovely to hear from you. How are you, darling?’

It had been a month since she had spoken to Angela. She was Luke’s mum – Luke, Emma’s fiancé, who at only twenty-six had been knocked off his bicycle by a lorry and killed instantly. Luke, whose photo still sat on Emma’s dressing table.

‘I’m fine, thank you.’

‘And are you still with your young man?’ Angela asked.

‘Yes, I am. It’s going well.’

‘That’s good. I’m pleased for you, Emma. Really.’

It must be hard for her to say that when they both knew that it should have been her son’s place next to Emma in the world. And yet, here was a mother, generous with her love and good wishes, despite all the pain and the might-have-beens.

‘Thank you.’ Emma’s voice had quietened. Although she had fallen in love with Max only recently, and Luke was no longer here, it still felt a little like a betrayal.

‘And how has The Chocolate Shop been doing, and the new café? You must tell me all about it.’

And so the conversation moved on to easier topics, chatting away about chocolate and village life. Emma asked after Luke’s father, John, and the family.

‘Oh, the lovely news is that Nathan is coming back home for a while. Finished his travelling, as far as we know, and is looking for work back in England.’

‘That’s good. Send him my love, won’t you?’

‘Of course.’

Nathan was Luke’s younger brother. It had hit him extremely hard, losing his sibling in such a sudden, horrendous way. Just a month after the funeral he had upped and left his job and set off with a backpack and a few possessions. He’d been travelling and working his way around the world ever since, with just the odd visit home, but he’d never settled. Every now and again, Emma would spot a new Facebook status with some amazing scenery or mention of a hostel with newfound friends in another foreign country.

‘Aw, it’ll be lovely to have him home again,’ said Emma, suddenly realising that for Angela, in a way, it must have felt that she had lost both her sons that year, and all those years since.

‘Yes.’

‘Well, you take care, Angela.’

‘You too. And you know you are always welcome if you ever want to come and stay.’

‘Thank you.’

‘So lovely to hear from you, Emma.’

‘Yes, it’s been good to chat. Lots of love.’

They still felt like family. Just speaking to Angela brought back so many memories, happy times and the saddest of times too. After putting the phone down, Emma realised she had tears in her eyes, but the best antidote for sadness was work, Emma had found. So she was soon in the shop’s kitchen, making buttery flaky pastry ready to turn into chocolate croissants that would be just-baked and still warm for the arrival of her customers in the morning. Another day with customers to serve and chat with, chocolates to craft, bills to pay, a spaniel to walk, and a heart to keep healing.

5

With Easter now over, it was time to change The Chocolate Shop’s window display. Emma loved the changing of the seasons, seeing it as a new chance to be creative – with the chocolates she made, the drinks and cakes she served, and the styling of the shop itself. For this summer she had decided on a harbourside, coastal theme for her window extravaganza, reflecting the beautiful setting of their village, which would hopefully help to draw in the summer customers.

Holly loved getting involved with the window displays too. She had agreed to come in on Tuesday afternoon, straight from the Sixth Form bus, to give her a hand. A while ago, Emma had found a scrap of blue fishing net on the beach, which she’d taken home and washed thoroughly. She’d known it might come in handy one day, and this was now set out at the base of the window. She carefully placed some pieces of driftwood, smoothed and weathered to a bleached grey, on top of it and an old-fashioned indigo glass float. From the craft shop halfway down the hill she had bought a wonderful model coble boat and intended filling the hull with chocolate truffles, and she also had three small, very cute wood-painted puffins. Along with a selection of her moulded chocolate shapes – seashells, anchors, starfish, and packs of chocolate puffins and seals – it would look delightful (hopefully!).

Holly had helped her place all the items carefully and was now standing outside, judging the final effect and getting Emma to tweak the positions so it all looked just right. There was lots of nodding, pointing and thumbs-up signs going on.

‘Your turn now. Go on out for the final approval,’ Holly said to Em with a grin, as she walked back in.

Emma was soon standing outside. ‘Hmm, pretty good. Just up a bit with that puffin there, yes. Perfect. Yep, I’m pleased with that.’ Emma gave a final thumbs-up sign to Holly through the glass.

Just then, Adam came past. ‘Looking good!’ he exclaimed.

‘The window display or Holly?’ Emma grinned, as Holly was inside beaming out at the unexpected sight of her tall, sandy-haired boyfriend.

‘Both,’ he announced wisely with a grin. ‘See you later, Holly,’ he called out. ‘Can’t stop. I’m on a super-speedy mission for gluten-free bread. I’m hoping Sheila’s got some left in stock. Got a hotel customer with dietary needs they hadn’t specified before arrival.’

‘See you,’ Emma said as he strode on by.

‘By-ee!’ Holly was waving animatedly from the other side of the window.

Em walked back inside, ‘Hey, look at you, grinning like a Cheshire cat. So how are things going with you two? I don’t suppose I really need to ask, looking at that beam of a smile,’ Emma said, grinning.

‘Great. He is just lush, Em, and we are getting on so well.’ There was virtually a swoon going on. If they were back in the Victorian days the old smelling salts would be coming out right now.

‘Well that’s brilliant. I’m happy for you, Hols. Now then, let’s get back to work.’

Just after closing time the phone rang.

‘Hi Em, it’s a lovely evening. Pete’s got one of his golf committee meetings and I wondered if you fancy coming down to The Fisherman’s Arms? We could sit outside with a drink and watch the sun go down. What do you think?’ It was Bev.

‘Sounds perfect, yes.’ It had been a busy day – one of the ones when Bev worked at the surgery, so Em had been multitasking. A chilled-out evening might be just what she needed.

‘I could ask Ali too. It’s been a little while since the three of us have had a catch-up.’

‘Great. What time?’ Em glanced at her watch; just after six. She had closed the shop an hour ago and had been thinking of making some more chocolate-shaped puffins and seals, but she had felt tired and ended up reading her book for a while instead.

‘In about half an hour so we can sit out while it’s still warm?’

‘Yep, I’ll meet you there, shall I?’

‘Yes, great. I love it when a plan comes together. I’ll ring Ali straight away.’

Emma had made some lovely friends since arriving at Warkton-by-the-Sea, having known no one at all in the village at the start of her Chocolate Shop venture seven years ago and at her darkest of times, her friends and her family had become a bit of a life-support system, especially Bev.

The three ladies were soon installed at a wooden picnic bench in the back garden of The Fisherman’s Arms, the village pub, which stood proudly on the rise of land to one side of the harbour, nestled by old stone fishermen’s cottages. There was an area of grass to the rear of the pub, and a little gate that led out to the coastal footpath on one side, and some steps that led down to the harbour on the other. She often let her mind stray to times gone by, to when the fishing fleet would be bringing in their catch of herring or the like, ready to take to the smokehouses on the other side of the street, all but one now converted into a restaurant and cottages. It must have been a hard life, with the North Sea always cold, at times treacherous, the women left at home mending the nets, nursing hungry children. They would have known grief and loves lost, for sure.

‘So, been busy today, Em?’ Bev brought her back to the here and now.

‘Yeah, it has actually. Even though the schools’ Easter holidays are over, there’re still plenty of tourists about. I think the fine weather has drawn them out.’

‘Ah, yes. The village is pretty busy. I had trouble getting parked today.’

‘Been up to much, Ali?’ Em asked.

‘Head down at work too. An outbreak of the norovirus has kept us pretty hectic, hasn’t it Bev?’ Ali worked with Bev at the doctors’ surgery.

‘Yeah, it’s been like D & V city. Oh, the joys.’

‘D & V?’ Emma quizzed, then wished she hadn’t.

‘Diarrhoea and vomiting,’ answered Bev matter-of-factly.

‘Ah, I see.’

‘Though,’ Ali continued, ‘me and Dan are planning a breakaway soon. Got a cottage booked for a long weekend down in the Yorkshire Dales.’

‘Ooh, sounds nice.’ Em couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a holiday. It just hadn’t been on her agenda – building her business and keeping the shop running had kept her busy enough. And where would she have gone on a holiday on her own, anyhow? Looking out across the harbour with the soft peachy-grey shades of a late-spring evening settling over sea and sky, a few boats bobbing about and the graceful swoop of a tern nearby, this was a lovely place to be anyhow.

‘Fabulous,’ agreed Bev. ‘Though I hope there’s a nice pub or takeaway nearby. You’re not out hiking all weekend with packed lunches in backpacks, are you?’ Dan was well known for his love of outdoor pursuits.

‘Hah, well there will definitely be some hiking involved, but I have checked out the local village online and it has a Chinese takeaway and a good pub by the looks of it.’

‘Good girl.’ Bev smiled.

Their glasses were nearly empty.

‘Right then.’ Emma stood up. ‘I’ll go in and fetch the next round of drinks. Same again, girls?’

‘Ooh, yes. Thanks, Em.’

She entered the back door of the pub from the beer garden. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust with it being so much darker inside. It was fairly busy in there. Sounds of chatter filling the air with people making the most of a pleasant spring evening, and holidaymakers out for their supper and enjoying the atmosphere of a traditional English pub. The Fisherman’s Arms had been here at the harbourside for centuries, heard and seen the tales of the local fisherfolk, witnessed hard times, and good times.

There was a guy at the bar and Emma stopped in her tracks. She felt goose bumps all over her body. Luke! Memories flooded her mind. That same dark-blond hair, something about the curve of the back of his neck. The clothes were a bit more casual than he might have worn but … yes, Luke. Oh my God. She felt giddy, strange. Dropped her purse, as her hands began to tremble, bent down to see where it had fallen. Damn, it had gone right under a chair at someone’s table.