The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop

by Caroline Roberts

  It was a lovely surprise, them turning up like this, as they hadn’t mentioned their intentions and had travelled half an hour to be here.

  ‘Can we help out at all?’ her mum asked.

  ‘Well, if you wouldn’t mind looking after the stall, while I take a quick loo break?’ The practicalities of being a solo stallholder were beginning to take effect.

  ‘Of course.’

  In Emma’s absence, her dad proudly commented to any passers-by that his daughter hand-made all the chocolates herself and managed to coax a gentleman into purchasing a box of champagne truffles for his wife’s birthday. He seemed very pleased with himself when Em got back. Mum said he was a natural.

  They bought a few gifts themselves, to take back to friends in Rothbury, and a reindeer each for the twins, as they were going to call in to visit James on their way back. They headed off with hugs and kisses and good luck wishes. Emma felt so blessed to have such a supportive family.

  Coffee Cabin lady was right; once the early dusk began to fall, the market square began to buzz into life and a lovely festive atmosphere filled the area as a touch of frost formed on the cobbles and the white Christmas lights that were strung between stalls began to glow. There was a huge real pine Christmas tree with coloured lights, tinsel, and shiny baubles taking centre stage, just along from her row of stalls, and the smell of mulled wine and spices filled the air, along with the sound of children’s eager chatter, and a medley of well-known Christmas carols came from a speaker.

  Emma had a busy spell, with several people at the stall at once and lots of purchases made. Chocolate, fudge, and brownies were flying out like hot cakes. On a brief lull, the coffee lady opposite her gave her a big thumbs-up sign and a grin. She smiled back, with her own chilly thumb raised up too.

  She heard her mobile phone ring, but had to leave it unanswered, as it was back to action with a gift box to fill for an elderly lady who also wanted several bags of fudge and some dark-chocolate Florentines – a new festive addition to Emma’s range. Seeing the selection together, Emma suddenly thought that a small wicker Christmas chocolate hamper might be nice, filled with a pretty selection. A bit late for today, but yes, for the shop in these last few weeks running up to 25 December. Ooh, yes, customers could even select their own items with which to fill it if they wanted – ‘build a basket’. Hmm, now there was a thought.

  A few more sales later and her stocks were noticeably depleted. She had some extra supplies in cardboard boxes below the trestle table, so she quickly refilled her display and was off again, serving, smiling, chatting. It was going well, and hey presto, with all the activity her hands had come back to life and her body just about thawed out.

  In a quieter moment she checked her phone. It was a missed call from Max. Max … she’d only spoken to him twice after their last weekend. Physically, things were great between them, but hearing from Luke’s mum had really unsettled her, and Em didn’t know how it would be when she faced him again, so she had just texted back the last time saying how busy she was and had left off contacting him for the past week. She put the phone back into her pocket. She looked around her at the market in full swing, listened to the animated talk, watched families and couples all wrapped up in hats, scarfs, and winter coats, some holding mugs of hot drinks. Coffee Cabin seemed to be doing well with their mulled wine too, and the gorgeous wafts of spice and cinnamon kept drifting past Emma’s stall.

  Setting up earlier, Emma had seen a candle stall nearby, another that sold wooden hand-crafted decorations and toys, a jewellery stall, and one that had handmade cushions and soft furnishings. She’d spotted a really cute reindeer cushion on a red background that she might just have to go and buy for her window seat in the shop – now her tin-box till was filling nicely, she could indulge herself. It was going to be used for the business, after all, and would add to the festive feel of the shop, she persuaded herself. In fact, whilst it was quiet for a minute … She asked the lady on the stand next to her, who was selling Christmas cards, if she’d mind keeping an eye on her stall just for a minute or two and set off, hoping it hadn’t already been sold. There he was, appliquéd on, the cutest Rudolph with his red nose. She picked him up before anyone else had the chance and paid – a lovely memento of her first-ever – and by the looks of her takings, successful – Christmas market.

  As she got back to her own stall and thanked the card lady, a school choir gathered around the Christmas tree and began singing carols, opening with ‘Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer’, which made Emma smile. There was always something special about carols at Christmas, about the magical build-up to the big day, all the excitement and anticipation, especially for the young ones. But she knew, all too well, it wasn’t easy for everybody; it was a time when you missed those who couldn’t be with you, when you remembered loved ones you had lost. The thought of seeing Luke’s parents again soon brought it home all the more too. A happy-sad tear crowded her eye as the choir launched into ‘Silent Night’.

  The cold was beginning to bite again as the evening air chilled. You could see the singers’ breath mist the air. Emma rubbed her hands together and popped them into her coat pockets until she needed to serve again, when a little boy came up with his mum and chose a chocolate Santa. A middle-aged couple bought some rum-and-raisin fudge and a two of her flavoured chocolate bars, in mint and orange. Then it was quieter again; perhaps she’d go and get a hot chocolate from across the way to warm herself up. She took some change and made her way to Coffee Cabin once more.

  ‘Got going a bit, didn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, thanks for warning me.’

  ‘You’re welcome. What can I get you?’

  ‘A hot chocolate please, with cream if I can.’

  ‘You can indeed. It’s quite cosy in the cabin here, with the hot water steamer and coffee machine and all that. I bet you’re bloody freezing.’

  ‘You can say that again. I’ll be bringing thermal gloves if I ever do this again.’

  ‘I bet.’ She mixed up the hot chocolate and sprayed on the whipped cream, then passed it across. ‘On the house, like I said.’

  ‘Aw, thanks. It looks amazing.’ She went straight in for her first hot and creamy sip – hot chocolate bliss. She glanced across at her stall, still no one there. She was okay for another minute or two.

  ‘My name’s Lisa, by the way.’

  ‘Thank you, and nice to meet you, Lisa. I’m Emma.’

  ‘Well, Emma, if you’re thinking of ever doing any more markets, I’ll let you know which are the best ones to go to, especially for Christmas time. Here.’ She handed over a business card. ‘Get in touch and I’ll be happy to advise.’

  ‘Thanks so much.’

  Emma turned to see someone standing beside her pitch. A man, tall, broad-shouldered, in a black Puffa-style jacket and jeans.

  ‘Oops, someone at my stall. Better go. And thanks again, Lisa. I’ll be in touch.’

  As she neared her stand, Emma paused. The set of that broad back, the short brown hairline – even under his black woollen hat – was extremely familiar. She had kissed the nape of that neck. Max.

  He turned, and she stopped in her tracks. Awkward moment ahead.

  ‘Max … hi.’

  ‘Hello, stranger.’ He looked a little stern. ‘So, I’ve tracked you down at last.’

  ‘How did you know I was here?’ He didn’t seem the type to be wandering around a Christmas market on his own by chance.

  ‘I went to The Chocolate Shop first. Had a bit of a tour.’ He managed a smile then. ‘Holly told me you were here.’

  She didn’t think he’d come to stock up on chocolates, somehow. She took in his face, his dark green eyes, He was looking good, but there was an edge about him, a sense of unease.

  ‘Em, why aren’t you returning my calls?’

  There had been more than one call she’d not answered, yes. But she’d been so busy, getting ready for the market, getting the shop and café up and running, and the pre-Christmas
mayhem was really kicking in. She was building the excuses nicely in her own mind. ‘Ah, sorry. It’s just been pretty manic.’

  ‘You could have just sent a quick text.’

  ‘Well, yeah, maybe.’ She felt herself redden.

  A man in smart work clothes with a skinny youth slowed by the stall. The lad picked up a packet of champagne truffles, whilst the chap browsed the display.

  ‘Look. I’ll let you crack on just now. This probably isn’t the time and place,’ Max said. ‘When do you finish here?’

  ‘The market is meant to close by eight o’clock.’ Emma looked up at the old clock tower of the Town Hall. Ten to six.

  ‘Okay. Are you here on your own?’ Max asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, shall I come back and help you start to pack up about a quarter to eight or something?’

  ‘Ah …’ She wasn’t sure why she felt so awkward, or quite how everything had shifted in the past couple of weeks, but speaking with Luke’s mum had left her reeling. ‘Umm, okay then, thanks.’ She could hardly refuse his help.

  ‘I’ll see you later then.’ Max made himself scarce.

  The lad at the stall was saying to his father, ‘I think Mum would like these ones.’ He was still holding the truffles.

  ‘Good decision, yes. And we’ll put them with some flowers.’

  Aw, how sweet. ‘Birthday?’ Emma mused out loud.

  ‘Indeed,’ the man replied.

  She put a gift bow on the rectangular box of truffles, and placed it in one of her bags with a business card. She watched the two men as they wandered off, the lad a lanky version of his father. Emma wondered for a second what it must feel like to have a family like that of your own, coming home to you every day – your lover, your child, your flesh and blood. She hoped the woman, whoever she was, appreciated her boys, didn’t take them for granted.

  Sometimes they never came home …

  Right, enough of this moroseness, maybe it was thoughts of Christmas stirring things up. You never really got over losing someone, you just learnt to live with it. She thought of Luke every single day even seven years on, and although it got easier, weirdly, every now and again, grief would come back in like a sledgehammer and hit when she least expected it.

  By half-past seven the market was beginning to thin out, customers had dwindled, and some of the stalls were already starting to pack away. Emma had sold at least three-quarters of what she had brought, with some items having totally sold out. She had sold far more than she would have done in the shop that day (though she’d still have those takings too, thanks to Bev and Holly), and even with paying for the stall and the fuel to get here and back, she was definitely well in credit. It was worth the sore feet, aching back, and chilled-to-the-bone fingers.

  ‘All okay?’ Lisa from the Coffee Cabin leaned out and gave her another thumbs-up.

  ‘Yeah, great,’ Emma replied. ‘You do all right?’

  ‘Yep, sold right out of the mulled wine. Been a good day. Well, I think that’s me pretty much done here now. I’m going to get my vehicle over to hitch this up. Can you keep an eye on the cabin for me?’

  ‘Will do. No problems.’

  ‘Cheers, hen.’

  And soon after that, Max reappeared.

  ‘You okay? How’s it gone today?’

  ‘It’s definitely been worth coming along. Though I am bloody freezing.’

  He reached out for one of her hands. ‘Wow, you feel like ice. Let’s get this stuff all packed up and get you somewhere warm.’

  40

  They were sitting next to the roaring fire in a booth of Sam’s Bistro, located in an old stone townhouse not far from the market. Emma was finally starting to thaw out properly. It would have been lovely just to snuggle in a bit closer to Max, to feel his arm warm around her, but there was a polite inch or two between them, and something had shifted since their last weekend, two weeks ago.

  Yes, she could have let herself get carried away with it all. He seemed a nice guy and the sex was seriously good. But there had to be more to it than sex. And was it worth all the dating, the getting-to-know-you stage, the shared lives, just for it all to go horribly wrong somewhere further down the line? Better to keep it as friends, and then no one needed to get hurt, she warned herself.

  Max had bought her a hot, frothy cappuccino and he had a glass of Coca-Cola set before him on the round wood table.

  ‘So, are you feeling any better? A bit warmer now?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. And thanks for all your help.’

  ‘Are you okay, Em? You just don’t seem quite yourself.’

  Emma looked around the room awkwardly. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Well, have you eaten this evening?’

  She shook her head gently.

  ‘I haven’t had a chance yet either. I could get us some supper here,’ Max persevered.

  Despite her stomach giving a little rumble of approval – it had been a long time since her midday sandwich – she felt uneasy. ‘Ah, sorry Max. I’m just so shattered, all I really want to do is to get myself back and crash out for the night.’ She put extra emphasis on the word ‘myself’. ‘I’ve got something in the fridge ready to warm up.’ Total lie.

  ‘Ah, okay. Fair enough.’ He seemed a little disappointed, his brow furrowed. He took a drink of Coke.

  Emma sipped her coffee, focussing on the flickering flames of the fire.

  Max shifted a little in his seat, his outer thigh touching hers by accident, lighting a little flame of pressure. Might this be the last time they touched each other? Emma felt suddenly sad. It was for the best, she told herself. Focus on her business, keep life simple, straightforward. She shifted her knee an inch back away, creating the void. Took another sip of her coffee.

  ‘How are things with your work?’ she asked.

  ‘Pretty good. Hectic. Got a great job on we’ve promised to have finished by Christmas. Full renovation of a three-storey house down in Jesmond, near a converted church and that great coffee shop that was near the last job. Lovely property, mind, but been neglected for many years. The new owners want a full makeover and a new extension to the back, right out from roof level. Big master bedroom above and a huge open-plan kitchen and living area below that will open right out on to the garden. It’s going to be stunning. But we’re still knocking out walls at the moment.’ Max paused, aware that he was doing most of the talking.

  ‘Right, lots to do then.’

  She felt a little more relaxed. It was safer ground talking about work. They chatted some more until their drinks were nearly emptied.

  ‘Emma,’ Max’s tone was more serious, ‘are you interested in taking this any further? Us, I mean?’

  So, he thought there was an us. ‘Ah, well …’

  ‘Okay, so you’re just trying to let me down gently here. Hey, I get it. It’s just, I thought we seemed pretty good together. I’d have liked to get to know each other a bit more.’

  Emma really didn’t know what to say. It had been good. He seemed a nice guy. But …

  ‘I really like you, Em,’ he tried again.

  She just smiled awkwardly. She liked him too, yeah. But if she seemed keen and they got into each other, began to rely on each other, something was bound to go wrong at some point; they’d find out they weren’t really suited, and she’d be back at square one. Relationships were like minefields. Better stick to the path she knew. Concentrate on her work, the shop, her friends, her family.

  ‘Max, I just feel I need to focus on the shop, the business, right now. Get myself through this busy Christmas period. It’s always so manic …’ She let her words drift.

  ‘Okay. I get it.’ He put his hands up with a sad kind of smile. ‘You’re just not that into me. Maybe I read the signals wrong. But I thought, you know, well I thought that it was more than sex.’

  She didn’t answer.

  ‘Hey, come on. I’ll see you back to your car, then you can get yourself away.’

  Was this it? Was sh
e going to let it end here? Never know him more than this? But it was like there were huge warning signs going off in her head. One step more into this relationship and she’d be in too deep, when it all might go horribly wrong.

  ‘Sorry, Max.’ Her voice sounded tired.

  ‘Okay,’ he sighed gently. ‘Let me just see you safe to your car and then I’ll leave you in peace.’

  And he was still wanting to make sure she was safe and fine, despite his obvious disappointment.

  ‘Thank you. For everything today and for all your help with the shop too. I’ll always remember that.’

  They walked side by side back along the cobbled street to where Emma’s car was parked. They stopped, stood facing each other for a second. Max then moved towards her, giving her a polite kiss on the cheek, which felt very final.

  What the hell are you doing, Em? a voice was clamouring in her mind. Yet another was saying it was the right thing. The best way. They had been good together, but now it was time to let it go. Max turned to walk away. She couldn’t watch! She ducked into her car and sat with a weird feeling of relief and regret all mixed up in her heart.

  41

  ‘So, let me get this straight,’ Bev was on her high horse down the phone line. ‘You’ve just landed a guy that looks like a cross between Gerard Butler and Tom Hardy. He has his own company, can do major DIY jobs, is obviously fit in more ways than one – you can’t deny it, I have seen him – and he seems a really nice chap. So, you’ve just gone and told him to take a hike. Are you nuts or what, woman?’

  ‘No. I’ve thought about it and it’s the right thing to do.’

  ‘Who for?’

  Emma didn’t answer. So Bev started up again. ‘Ah, I get it. Was the sex crap?’

  Em couldn’t help but smile. ‘No, it wasn’t crap. Actually, it was pretty damned good.’ It was indeed more than good, but she wasn’t going to admit that to Bev right now.

  ‘So what is the problem?’

  ‘It just wasn’t going to go anywhere.’

  ‘Well no, not if you didn’t give it a chance. Right, that’s it, we need wine and we need to talk. My place at seven. Pete is out at a local council meeting, organising the village Christmas lights.’