How do you know the shop’s not open yet?
That’s when I hear the knocking pattern on the shop door, loud and jaunty, much too long and a bit annoying. I drag my new blue dress on, the one that turned Elliot’s head, and I fly down the stairs, only to see Elliot clomping his way from the café across the shop to unlock the door, and there, with his face and hands pressed comically to the glass like a Dickensian urchin in knock-off Balenciaga is Daniel. I’m not aware I’m screaming hysterically until I see Elliot flinching.
I shove past Elliot and haul the door open. ‘You’re here? You’re really here!’ and we’re both screaming and jumping up and down on the doorstep and hugging so hard one of us could be in danger of passing out.
When Daniel finally puts me down I feel my joy giving way and I know I’m close to tears. ‘Why are you here?’ I cry, my eyes welling.
‘I’m on my way to Mum and Dad’s holiday home at Land’s End. I’ve got a few days off and I wanted to give them the good news in person.’
‘You got the promotion?’ That’s it, I’m ugly-sobbing now. ‘I’m so happy for you.’
‘Youseemhappy.’ Daniel’s appraising me, bemused, and then his eyes drag upwards. I don’t need to turn around to know that Elliot’s still glowering behind me because Daniel’s eyes say everything.
My friend looks at me, wordlessly conveys how incredibly bleeding hot Elliot is, then his quirking eyebrows do the work of telling me he’s detected that something’s gone horribly wrong with my holiday, and then the awkward silence in the shop betrays literally everything else.
‘Ah,’ Daniel says, and he steps around me to introduce himself to Elliot who’s just standing there bewildered.
As the pair of them shake hands, Daniel buzzing with intrigue and Elliot stiff and confused, I notice for the first time that Elliot’s black baggy pants and scoop neck T-shirt (the one that offers tantalising hints of hidden tattoos and shamelessly flaunts his neck muscles) are covered in flour, or maybe it’s icing sugar. His hair’s tied back and he’s got a black baseball cap pulled down to his brows, and he’s wearing the menacing straight-mouthed stare he had when I was first getting to know him. It’s the cautious, self-protective look of a man hiding himself away from the world, warning others to stay away.
There’s more white powder on his cheek and the tip of his nose. The sight of it sends a pang of longing straight to my core.
‘You’re baking?’ I say, so stiff and severe Daniel turns back and shoots me a look of amazement.Yes, my eyes tell Daniel,this is the new hardened me.
Elliot replies, level and dry. ‘You were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, not when you’ve been so… busy lately, so I got up and made some scones, like you showed me. Turned out OK, too.’ A grim smile curls his perfect lips. ‘Then I tried some fairy cakes.’ He shrugs and concedes, ‘They don’t look so good.’
Another glance from Daniel. It says,He is The Cutest! Don’t be angry with this enormous baker guy.
I shake my head. I have to get out of here. This is too much. That’s when I remember I have a date tonight – with the Siren’s Tail Sleuthing Club. I’ll break that to Daniel later. He won’t mind; there’ll be beer and sandwiches.
‘Elliot,’ I tell him firmly. ‘I’m taking the day off.’
‘You’re just going to leave the poor guy to run the place all by himself?’ Daniel is panting behind me as I stride Up-along past the holidaymakers with their coolbags and beach towels heading for the shore.
‘Yep,’ I say, head held high, facing the blue sky. ‘Are you really staying all night?’
‘I got the last double room at the Siren, with breakfast. You said in your text you think he’s seeing someone else?’
I stop dead, and Daniel catches up to me. If I spill it all now, we have a chance of enjoying ourselves today. ‘Yeah, he is. I didn’t know a thing about it until I caught him talking to his missus about wanting to get back to the family home. He’s probably got kids for all I know. He refused to explain when I confronted him. Can you believe it? The gall of the guy. Actually, you know what? Ididknow about it. All the red lights were there from the start. He was grumpy and secretive, he won’t let me answer the shop phone…’
‘Tsss!’ Daniel hisses through gritted teeth. ‘Jude, that’s a dead giveaway.’
I ignore the knowing, weary tone in his voice that’s saying,you let yourself be played again, Jude?
‘And there’s some sort of legal case he’s involved in, but I don’t know what. He wouldn’t tell me anything about the last few years of his life, just that he’s taking a break from work. I’ve no idea why he came here to Clove Lore, or why he couldn’t stick around wherever he came from to fix whatever mess he’s in.’
I see Elliot in my mind’s eye talking so earnestly to me that night we went to the Siren, telling me the bookshop had come along at exactly the right time for him, how it saved him like it was saving me. I sniff a wry laugh at the memory, anger bubbling up at how easily I let myself fall for it, how willing I was to be blindsided. I take a deep breath and carry on. ‘He told me some sob stories about his childhood, but nothing else… but, I liked him, in spite of all the warnings.’
‘I can see how that could happen, Jude. I mean, look around. It’s beautiful here, and you’re far from home, and he’s…’ Daniel’s squinting, searching for the right words, ‘He’s basically an Adonis in gym pants.’
I don’t want to hear Elliot being praised, but yes, Daniel’s right. I want to sayyou should have seen him in that white shirt the night we first kissed, but I don’t. And I don’t tell him about the stupid, romantic part of me that hoped we could be more than a holiday fling – the bit that’s absorbed too many novels about moody, chivalrous, aloof men who meet their match and find themselves letting down their guard and smiling at the heroine, asking if they might stay behind after church to ask them a very particular question…Ugh, my gullible, sentimental brain!
I don’t need to tell Daniel I was imagining the Hallmark movie version of me and Elliot holding hands and walking through crunchy leaves and sipping frothy coffees with chocolate sprinkles in the shape of love-hearts together this autumn. Daniel already knows all this without me having to confess it. He knows me too well. It’s comforting and excruciating at the same time.
‘Come on, let’s keep climbing,’ I say, hiking on up the cobbled slope. After more than a week here I’m getting used to the steep path, but Daniel’s struggling behind me, even though he works out most days and must be a hundred times fitter than me.
‘Can you slow down? I’m getting altitude sickness!’ he shouts after me. ‘Where are we going anyway?’
‘There,’ I say, triumphantly pointing at the sign ahead of us.
