‘No one special in your life, then?’ Holly pursued.

‘Now stop getting cheeky, you. It’s none of your business, madam.’ Emma was still smiling, but sooo not prepared to divulge any information. Not that there was anything at all to divulge.

Twenty minutes later Holly was out in the shop, keeping herself occupied dusting the shelves and the glass counter as it was that quiet, and Emma got around to opening the post. There was the usual junk mail, a bank letter, the quarterly electric bill – ooh, now that was a bit high. Oh well, it was the winter months, she mused. The fourth letter was handwritten on a thick white envelope. Emma opened it, drawing out a sheet of typed A4. It looked very formal. She recognised the name and address of her landlord.

‘I am writing to inform you …’ Emma stood there stock-still, the letter quivering in her hand.

She was still staring into space when Holly popped back through to put the polish and duster back in the kitchen cupboard.

‘Everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.’

Emma wished it had been a ghost. It would be far less trouble than the contents of the letter.

‘Ah, no, just a bit of a shock.’ She wondered whether to share the news, no point worrying the girl unnecessarily, but oh, she needed someone to talk it over with.

As Emma began to read the words aloud, she felt like her heart was being squeezed. ‘I am writing to inform you that as from 1 March 2017 your monthly rent payment for 5 Main Street, Warkton-by-the-Sea, is to increase to the sum of £900. Nine hundred pounds! That’s a further one hundred and fifty pounds a month. I really don’t know where I’m going to find that, Holly.’

‘Oh no. That’s so not fair, Em.’

It might not be fair, but it looked like she had no choice. Either pay it or get out; the landlord was giving her one month’s notice. Bollocks! She started reading again, her hand trembling: ‘This is due to the desirable nature of the village properties, and the increase in holiday trade.’ Basically, her landlord could turn this into a holiday cottage and make a mint, no doubt.

‘It’s not just my business, it’s my home too, Holly.’

‘Oh Em, it’ll work out somehow. It has to. Warkton just wouldn’t be the same without your gorgeous little chocolate shop, or you. It’s our little chocolate heaven – all my mates love popping in here. And, you’ve become a real friend to me. No, The Chocolate Shop can’t possibly go – nor you. There has to be a way.’

But the massive implications were starting to sink in. Emma began to feel sick.