‘Thank you so much to the Easter Bunny,’ said James, beaming a smile at his sister.

After a lunch of roast beef, and an Easter egg for the twins for pudding, the girls were tired and sat quietly watching some television. After helping with the washing-up, Emma sat with James at the cleared kitchen table, feeling pretty shattered herself.

The build-up to Easter had been, as per usual, pretty manic – creating Easter eggs of all shapes and sizes, along with chocolate chicks and bunnies, and pretty Easter bonnets moulded from chocolate, upturned and filled with truffles. It was a chance for Emma to be extra creative and she loved that, and the rush and buzz, but it was hard work, resulting in sore feet and sore fingers.

‘So, how’s it all been going with the shop?’ James asked. ‘I know that you managed to secure the business at the Seaview Hotel, which is great, but is there anything else on the horizon?’

‘Well, the master plan hasn’t quite worked out as well as I hoped,’ Emma conceded. ‘I have been trying my best and approaching other possible new outlets, but they either seem to think that my products are too expensive – which, yes, they would be compared to mass-market chocolate because of the quality ingredients and the hand-crafting involved – or they already have a supplier of some similar confectionery that they are happy with. I seem to have drawn a bit of a blank lately.’ She sighed. ‘And then Easter has taken up all my time and energies, to be honest.’

‘Naturally. But hey, keep going. Chin up, sis. Your chocolates are just amazing. Just look at how thrilled the girls are with those brilliant Easter Bunnies.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And if you need any help at all, me and Chlo are always here. Even if you need a short-term loan or something.’

‘Thanks, but it’s not quite come to that yet.’ The last thing she wanted to do was to borrow from her brother without knowing how on earth she might pay it back. She would keep trying and thinking of schemes, but at times it all felt like a juggling act – keeping the shop financed, supplied, and stocked with all the gorgeous chocolate creations she needed to make. With the massive rent hike, the end of every month was always tainted with anxiety and angst over finances; she was working all hours as it was, but it never seemed to be quite enough.

17

It was a Saturday afternoon in late May. The Easter boost to finances had now been spent and Emma had managed to pay most of this month’s rent payment and was intending to send over the final £100 after this weekend, when she’d have – hopefully – taken it over the till. It would only be a day or so late.