‘Yes, a nice fresh shade on the walls to mark the changes. I’m not averse to a spot of decorating. I did my lounge and bathroom myself last year.’

‘You’re going to be busy, mind, if you’re planning to take that on yourself, especially if you’re already up at seven every day making the chocolates.’

‘I will, won’t I? But funds are a bit tight at the moment. Had a pretty challenging rent hike this year,’ she admitted, ‘so the more I can do myself the better.’ That thought was rather scary. She’d be hectic enough as it was with the Christmas run-up; she’d have to get the alterations done as soon as possible, before it got even busier, and she couldn’t afford to close the shop for long – a day or two at the most, to get the major work done. But to have a café … it would be such a lovely, cosy space for people to come to. And hopefully (after the initial, carefully budgeted expenditure) bring in some much-needed extra income to keep her and The Chocolate Shop afloat.

‘I do have a joiner that does some work for me,’ Max stated, ‘but he’s pretty much flat out at the moment. And someone more local to Warkton might be better, save on additional transport costs, as you will have to consider their labour charges and materials. It shouldn’t be a particularly long job, though, making the window seats – a day or so, I’d say. I could measure it up for you when we get back if you’d like, just to get an idea of the job.’

‘Great, thank you. That will give me a starting point and then I can get a couple of quotes.’

She wasn’t quite sure where the money might come from for this, but hopefully it would soon be recouped as extra revenue thereafter. She could possibly ask her mum and dad for a small loan to cover the initial costs, but she’d hate to let them down if it didn’t work out. She’d do some more research and then go and visit them to mention her plans. It’d be lovely to catch up with them soon, anyhow.

Max and Emma wound their way down to the sands, the beach opening out before them, metallic-grey and white waves frothing to the shore. Seaweed, shells, and the odd piece of driftwood were strewn in a staggered line, marking the high tide. She let Alfie off the lead and he bounded away joyously as they walked down to the flat, smooth sands nearer the sea.