Читать книгу: «The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop», страница 5
12
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
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.
‘Oh, and these, of course.’ He passed her the very same box of chocolates, grinning. ‘I’m sure you’ll like them, seeing as you chose them all yourself.’
Holly seemed lost for words. But the huge grin across her face echoed his. Then her smile dropped a little, and she looked concerned. ‘But the other chocolates … every week. Who …?’ She sounded as though she hardly dared ask.
‘Oh, right, yes – I get them for my gran.’
‘Your gran?’
‘Yep. I’ve been staying with her since I got this new job. I couldn’t have afforded to rent somewhere on my own – I’m on trainee wages at the moment – and Gran lives just down the road in Seahouses. She’s let me have her spare room, so the chocolates are a bit of a thank you.’
‘Oh, I see.’ All those weeks of thinking he was seeing someone else. Holly could hardly believe it.
Emma was still listening in, and smiling widely at this point, out of sight in the corridor to the kitchen. Aw, that’s so lovely.
‘Thank you so much.’ Emma could hear the lump that must have formed in Holly’s throat.
‘And …’ he started. There was a brief nervous pause. ‘I wondered if you might like to go out with me sometime? I was thinking maybe a coffee or something, perhaps at the hotel? Oh, I’m Adam, by the way.’
Yes, Emma had said. ‘I’m Holly.’
Emma couldn’t help but peek through the doorway at this point, to see Holly lay the bouquet down carefully on the counter to take the hand Adam was offering in a handshake.
‘Actually,’ Holly leaned across the bouquet and the countertop, ‘I think I need to do this.’ And with that she gave him a peck on the cheek, which made the colour soar in his face.
‘Thank you for the flowers and the chocolates. And yes, I would love to come for a coffee.’
‘Great!’ He seemed to relax. ‘So, maybe this week? When’s a good time? I get a Wednesday off generally.’
‘Oh, I’m at school – Sixth Form,’ she quickly added. ‘But I get back by quarter to four, so maybe around then.’
‘That’s fine. Well then, call up at the hotel at a quarter to four next Wednesday and head for the lounge area. We could have some Afternoon Tea. Do you like that?’
‘Ooh yes. Sounds lovely … Oops, hang on.’ There was a moment of panic when she realised she’d still be in her school clothes. ‘I’ll just need five minutes more.’ She darted a look at Emma, who was now hovering at the inner doorway. ‘Need to get changed,’ Holly mouthed across to her. ‘Can I do that here?’
Emma nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘So about five to four.’
‘Yes, next Wednesday,’ Adam confirmed.
‘That’s great.’
‘Fab.’
‘Brilliant.’
Both were rooted to the spot, grinning, as though neither could quite believe it.
‘Better go, then.’
‘Yep.’
‘See you soon.’
‘See you Wednesday.’
‘Thanks again for the flowers … everything.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Adam left the shop, with a big grin plastered on his face and a backward glance at Holly.
As soon as he was out of sight, Holly started jumping up and down. ‘Oh my! I have a date.’ Bounce, bounce, bounce. ‘With Adam.’ Bounce, bounce, bounce.
‘Blimey, it’s like Tigger has taken over your body!’ Emma was laughing. ‘Watch out or you’ll be toppling all the shelves over, and wrecking my chocolates. Hey, honestly though, I think it’s wonderful, Holly.’ At last. ‘See, you should listen to your Auntie Emma.’
‘His gran.’ Holly grinned. ‘All along it was his gran.’
And they both giggled, just as another customer walked in to the shop. More Valentine dreams to help make come true. It was times like these that made Emma’s heart soar. It seemed there really was a special magic about The Chocolate Shop – no wonder it was so very precious to her.
14
It was wet and wild the next morning. Emma had heard the wind rattling around the eaves all night, lifting the roof tiles, with rain spattering noisily against her bedroom window pane.
At least there was no six o’clock alarm, today. Bliss. The room was still dark, and she had no idea of the time, so she switched on the bedside lamp. Eight-fifteen. She’d had a nice lie-in, but a few more minutes wouldn’t go amiss. It wasn’t the kind of day to be rushing up for anyhow, though she knew she’d have to let Alfie out to the yard soon enough – he’d be crossing his legs otherwise.
She had already decided to close the shop today. Now that Valentine’s Day was over, a wet Wednesday in February wasn’t going to draw in the crowds, and she could use the next few days to make enough supplies to keep the shop going for now. So, for the first time in a while, she could actually relax, read a book, watch some TV, get the fire on and chill a bit.
She’d have to get out for a walk with Alfie at some point. She hoped it might dry up a little, but maybe a blustery beach walk would do her good. And Alfie wouldn’t mind: being a spaniel he positively loved the wet; swimming in the sea, rolling in muddy puddles, walking in the rain – he was still happy.
Emma remembered yesterday, the heart-warming scene in the shop, and thought of Holly and Adam. She hoped their afternoon-tea date would go well. She had a strong feeling that it would – he seemed a nice lad. Aw, the promise and excitement of early love. She was so pleased for them.
She snuggled down under the duvet for a little longer, thinking of first loves, and lost loves, but didn’t let herself dwell on it. Somehow, she had to get a grip on the here and now, make the most of her every day. She couldn’t waste the life she had.
Later, togged up in rain mac, trousers, wellies, hat, scarf and gloves, she told herself that again. She really didn’t fancy walking out in this – the rain was relentless. But there was Alfie wagging his tail, and barking now his lead had come out.
‘Come on then, boy. Let’s do this thing.’
They made their way down the hill to the harbour. She could see the waves bashing up against the harbour walls, sending up an arc of white spray. The boats rocked and rattled, though they were tied safely with sturdy ropes. Hopefully, none of the fishing boats were out today. It wasn’t the weather to be out at sea.
No one else was around; they were all sensibly staying indoors or perhaps planning to make a quick dash later on to gather around the real fire and settle for a cosy supper in The Fisherman's Arms. She hadn’t cooked properly in ages, having been so busy making chocolates, and while she might treat herself to a roast chicken dinner at the weekend, she didn’t fancy sitting on her own, or making all that effort for one. Maybe she’d invite James and the family over for Sunday; that would be nice. A family beach walk, hopefully in better weather than this, and a Sunday roast when they all got back to hers. Yes, she’d arrange that. She’d phone him when she got back in.
Emma walked down along the road towards the dunes and let Alfie off the lead, then they followed the sandy, spiky grass track and soon reached the beach. The waves were dramatic and stormy, the power of them immense. Emma kept towards the top of the beach, near the dunes, not wanting Alfie to get too close to the sea that was crashing in, though he seemed to sense the danger and was keeping unusually far away from the shoreline. It was fascinating to watch the frothy, rolling seascape and to hear the boom and crash – like turbulent thunder. They strolled along the sands for about fifteen minutes, getting lashed by the rain, then walked back again through the dunes, the strands of marram grass soaking her trouser legs above her wellies.
Another dog owner was now out with his labrador, a middle-aged man she had seen before on the beach, the only other person she’d seen in the past twenty minutes. They nodded to each other stoically, as dog owners out in the rain do, and she headed back up the hill once more. A couple of seagulls were battling the elements above the harbour, struggling to fly. They gave up and perched on a fishing boat mast. It wasn’t a day for being out long.
It was a relief to turn the key in her back door, walk into the warmth, and peel off her damp outer clothes. She popped a rack near the radiator in the hallway, hung her coat and trousers on there, and then headed upstairs, where she towel-dried Alfie. She didn’t like him shaking off downstairs near the shop; he certainly wouldn’t pass the health and hygiene regulations.
Soon they were both settled by the coal fire. She didn’t plan on going back out at all today. She might phone her mum and dad for a catch-up chat, and then make that call to James with the invite for the weekend – maybe her parents would like to come along too. Oh yes, and she’d read a book, maybe find a good film on Netflix, perfect. She realised how tired she felt. The build-up to Valentine’s Day had been particularly hectic and she was aching. All that stirring, folding, and packing was surprisingly physical, especially on repeat. She’d have arm muscles like Popeye if she wasn’t careful!
Later, Em settled down for her rom-com film with Alfie nestled on his blanket on the sofa next to her, all warm and cosy. It was dark by 4.00 p.m. – well, to be fair, with the inky-coloured storm clouds it had stayed virtually dark all day. It seemed extra quiet in her little front room, and once the film credits rolled, she realised she wanted some company, someone to chat to. She’d ring Bev, see if Pete had come up with any romantic gestures yesterday. Yes, they could have a nice natter.
The dialling tone droned on, with no answer on her friend’s mobile.
Em stroked Alfie’s head, feeling out of kilter. She finally had the chance to relax, and now didn’t know quite what to do with herself. She flicked the TV control back to the Netflix menu. A night in beckoned and a supper of a can of tomato soup for one.
* * *
The man drove down Warkton-by-the-Sea’s main street.
So there it was, The Chocolate Shop by the Sea – a cute-looking cottage-style shop. Yes, it suited her. He felt a strange sensation in his gut as he drove past slowly, catching glimpses of chocolates and confectionery, but he couldn’t quite make out the figures inside.
Ah, what the hell was he doing? He wasn’t even sure what had compelled him to drive up here today. Just a need to get out, get away for a while. He shouldn’t really be here at all.
He slowed at the bottom of the hill and pulled the pick-up to a halt beside the harbour, turned off the engine, and looked at the boats bobbing there, the people strolling by.
Sometimes it was just the right thing at the wrong time. This felt so very much like the right thing; he couldn’t reason out why, but some instinct had brought him here … but no, right now he needed to go back, to sort things out with Siobhan and her family.
He sighed, put the pick-up into reverse, turned around and passed the shop once more. At least she was still here, he mused. Well, she might be. She could have sold the business or anything by now. He could just stop, pull up, see if she was there, say hi. But dammit, it was all too messy just now; there was too much unfinished business. He put his foot on the accelerator, and drove on by.
Emma, relaxed from her well-earned time off the day before, looked up from serving Stan and Hilda, the friendly pensioners who were regulars.
Oh, surely not! Emma did a double-take as she thought she recognised a grey, jeep-style vehicle, passing by.
Could it be?
But it had already driven on by. She hadn’t even had a chance to spot the driver. Blimey, Em, she chided herself, how many grey truck things are there around? There must be hundreds of them. For goodness’ sake, get a grip, woman.
Sometimes you might meet someone out of the blue, talk and chat for a short while, even share a kiss, but it didn’t mean it was anything significant or that you’d ever see them again. They could touch your life for the briefest of times, but it didn’t mean they were going to become a part of it. She sighed softly.
‘Sorry, Stan, I was off in a world of my own for a moment there. I’ll just go fetch your mint creams for you. There’s a fresh batch out the back.’
‘That’s fine, my dear. We’re in no hurry, are we, Hilda?’
‘No, none at all, pet.’
Emma sorted out their order, had a little chat, and saw them on their way with a smile. What a lovely old couple.
Silly woman, imagining it might be him! Emma was cross with herself, even as she wandered to the window and scanned the road outside just in case. She knew she was just clutching at straws. Sometimes you got the wrong one and the whole damned stack came down around you. And then, sometimes, you could pluck one out – and nothing at all would happen. Surely nothing happening was the safest bet?
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