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

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      ‘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.

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