After a bath and a quick dinner, Effie fell into bed, drifting off before she could finish the chapter of her book. She woke with the dawn, her muscles stiff as she stretched and yawned. Another clear day. She peered out of the window at the sea glinting in the sun and hesitated. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself. But as the kettle boiled and her eyes skimmed over the pages of her book, she knew the best thing to properly wake her up would be a swim. Plus, there was no way Jake would dare make the same mistake twice.
Effie went for her swim. As she pulled herself through the waves she tried, but failed, to keep her eyes from being tugged towards the window above Lola’s café. The blind was up and Effie thought she saw someone linger, but on second glance, she decided it was a trick of the light. The idea of Jake watching her did strange things to her insides. She didn’t like the scrutiny, the invasion of her privacy, but part of her craved that bright blue gaze, wished their meeting had happened on more auspicious terms.
Breaking through the surf, Effie made her way out of the sea. Throwing on her dry robe she noticed that the café wasn’t open yet, so made her way back across the street, up the stairs into her flat where she jumped in the shower, washing away the briny scent of the sea. The doorbell buzzed.
‘Shit,’ Effie hissed as she frantically wrapped towels around herself as the buzzer went again, this time sounding impatient.
Skidding out of the bathroom, Effie fumbled to open the flat door, but there was no one there. The buzzer went again. Effie darted back inside, pushed open the window. Standing on the pavement, hands on his hips, looking unimpressed was a delivery driver. In front of the shop door was a pallet of paints and decorating equipment.
‘Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you this early,’ Effie called, ‘give me two minutes and I’ll be down to let you in.’
‘Don’t worry, love, can’t stay any longer, I’ll just leave it there.’
‘But—’ Effie glanced at the delivery and then back to the driver ‘—I can’t carry all that.’
He shrugged and waved the paperwork. ‘My instructions are only to deliver to the door.’
‘Can’t you . . .’ Effie trailed off as he shoved the paperwork into his back pocket, headed back to his van and slid open the driver’s door. She watched in disbelief as he pulled away, speeding along the harbour front, beating a hasty retreat. First the estate agent, now the paint delivery driver, what was it with all these men desperate to get away so fast?
Drying herself and getting dressed in record-breaking time, Effie rushed down the stairs, braiding her hair as she went. She had to get the stuff off the pavement before someone complained. Effie opened the shop door and stared at the pile of paint pots, rollers and paintbrushes. How much paint did Clive think she needed? Why had he ordered four gigantic tubs? It was all wrapped in protective plastic. Effie was scrabbling around in the counter drawers trying to find some scissors when she heard a voice asking, ‘Do you need a hand?’
Effie’s heart leapt in panic at the sound of the voice. Turning towards the doorway, smoothing down her hair and clothes, she saw Jake standing the other side of the delivery, takeaway cup in his hand, hair pushed back from his forehead in a way that made Effie’s fingers itch to ruffle it.Hang on, where had that come from?She narrowed her eyes at the thought, reminding herself that even if Jake was sort of the enemy, it was OK to find him attractive, especially that morning when he was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, leather bracelets on his wrists and a smattering of tattoos up his arm. She tried not to stare at them.
Effie swallowed, about to tell him that she was fine, but she knew she couldn’t easily lift all the pots of paint.
‘Here.’ He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, including a penknife, which he used to slash through the plastic wrapping.
‘I didn’t know people still had penknives,’ Effie said, the whole thing happening too quickly for her brain to catch up.
Jake slipped it back into his pocket. ‘I was obsessed with the idea of them as a kid. My grandad got me it when I was ten and I’m never without it. You never know when you may need one.’
‘And have you needed one much?’ Effie asked, curious.
‘Not as much as I imagined,’ he said with a laugh.
‘Thank you.’
‘I also got you this.’ He placed the takeaway cup on top of the pile. ‘Lola said you have a hot chocolate after a swim, extra marshmallows. I saw you go out – please don’t think I was spying – I saw you when I was opening my blinds. Ugh. I’m sorry. I bought this as a peace offering, to say sorry for yesterday. I’m really embarrassed. When I was deleting the photos I couldn’t believe how silly I was to think you were a seal! Mortified.’
Effie took the cup, pulled off the lid and studied the pink marshmallows bobbing on the surface. They looked like little melted hearts. She took a sip. ‘Thank you. I’m sorry I snapped at you, but—’
‘It’s fine, you had every right to. I don’t usually take phone calls out in the street in the middle of the night. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with the photo either.’ Jake scratched his ear. ‘I wanted to start again seeing as we’re going to be neighbours. My name’s Jake, I was born and raised here but have only just moved back. I’ve been living above the café for a few weeks. Turns out whilst I was, erm, travelling, my dad commandeered my old bedroom for his train set. It’s impressive but . . .’ Jake exhaled as if he wasn’t sure what to make of his dad’s hobby taking precedence over him.
‘Replaced by a train set?’ She couldn’t help but smile.
‘Uh-huh,’ Jake laughed and held out his hand.
Effie took it, making sure her handshake was just on the right side of firm. However, as Jake’s warm fingers closed around hers, a jolt flew through her, making her forget who or where she was.
‘Erm, I’m Effie,’ she stuttered, ‘I moved here on Sunday. I’m getting the shop ready for my boss.’
Jake peered in through the doorway, taking in the sad sanded-down shelves, the tired blue carpet. ‘What, all by yourself?’
Effie pulled herself up. ‘Yes, all by myself,’ she said as if it were a challenge.
‘When are you opening?’
‘Easter weekend.’
