Effie stared at Clive in disbelief as her brain sorted through what he’d just offered her. A chance to run a bookshop. Something she’d been dreaming about since she’d been a child lining her picture books up on her windowsill and selling them to her dolls. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Effie blinked back the tears. ‘I was expecting to be sacked.’
‘Don’t cry! Sacked? Never. We’d be lost without you.’ He pushed a box of tissues towards her. ‘You are interested, yes? I’ve not got this hideously wrong, have I? You’re well overdue a promotion and I think you’d be perfect to head up the new shop. You know what customers want, you work hard, you’ve always impressed me. Here, have a look.’ He gathered up some paperwork and held it out to her.
Effie took the paperwork he passed her and flicked through the extremely flattering description of what appeared to be a dark, forgotten shop on Polcarrow seafront. It had potential, she guessed, and the sea view was to die for. She’d been to Polcarrow once as a child with her parents. It was tiny, some would even say forgotten. Was there a thriving literary community there that she knew nothing about? ‘Why Polcarrow?’
‘It’s up and coming,’ Clive explained. ‘It was featured inCornish Lifelast year and I wanted to get in there, open up a branch before anyone else nabbed the shop. It’s perfect for another location of Books by the Sea, look at that view!’ He tapped the paper Effie was holding.
‘The sea view from the window is gorgeous,’ she admitted, ‘but it’s a long way to travel every day.’ She wasn’t sure her little blue Corsa would be up to daily bounces along the narrow Cornish lanes and she wasn’t the most confident of drivers.
‘Ah, that. There’s a flat too,’ Clive explained, reaching across and flicking through the sheets until he came to the photos, ‘you can stay there whilst getting the shop up and running. They come as a package.’
He really had thought of everything to make it an offer she couldn’t refuse. Effie looked through the papers, the layout of the shop, the photographs of the cute pastel-coloured cottages on the harbour and swallowed. It would mean moving out of her parents’ cosy fisherman’s cottage, the only place she’d ever felt at home. Yes, she’d been promising herself every first of January that this would be the year she’d fly the nest . . . but . . . the reality always slipped like cold fingers under her collar. Maybe this was the shove she needed.
Effie gave the papers another flick through. It was cute. She’d be close enough to the sea to swim every day. She’d be master of her own shop, she’d be able to display whatever she wished, she’d be able to connect with a whole new host of readers. Effie exhaled. In her hands lay her big dream, one she’d created numerous Pinterest boards for, but as much as the excitement fluttered in her heart, moving away from everything she knew was still a huge, daunting step to take.
Effie fixed Clive with a curious look. ‘Why didn’t you offer this to Zach?’ Zach was his wayward son, who flittered in and out of the shop when the whim took him, always acting like he owned the place, when he never lifted a finger.
‘Erm, because I, erm, needed someone I could trust,’ Clive managed, ‘we both know Zach isn’t the hardest worker. Anyway, he’s wrapped up in some surf school thing at the moment. Zoey has the kids and Maddie is great but she doesn’t have the same drive and ambition as you.’
Effie smiled – she always thought she was the complete opposite of ambitious. She liked the safe quietness of her little routines. The temptation to just accept the job was strong but knew she had to consider the offer properly, lest she let herself get caught up with more than she could handle. Effie stood up and asked, ‘Can I think about it?’ She held the papers out to him.
Clive brushed them away. ‘Keep them. Look over them. Of course you can think about it. I know I’ve dropped a huge surprise on you, but I know you’d be great at it.’
‘When do you need an answer?’
‘Friday. Come and see me Friday, half nine, and let me know. But, Effie, I really think you should do this, that it’ll be good for you. Please think seriously about it. I’ve taken my time carefully considering this next step and I wouldn’t be pursuing it if I didn’t think it’d be a success.’
‘Of course.’
‘But can I ask you not to tell the other girls yet?’
Effie nodded and made her way out into the small corridor that separated Clive’s cramped office from their break room. Closing her eyes, Effie took some deep, steadying breaths. A little shop, its door open to the harbour, the sound of the sea swishing, sunlight and stacks of novels, it was better than any vision board she’d cobbled together. She headed into the break room and, folding the papers in half, tucked them into her bag.
The sound of chattering from the shop brought her back to the present. As she stuffed her bag back into her locker, a wave of guilt washed over her. She usually discussed everything with Maddie, but although she meant well, she could be a bit nosey. Effie didn’t want anyone else’s input to influence her decision, knowing if this was her new door in life to open, she had to be the one to decide if she should step through. Anyway, Clive had asked her not to mention it to the others, so Effie squared her shoulders and headed into the main shop to check if anyone else wanted a cup of tea, since she regretted turning down Clive’s offer.
Chapter Two
Effie pushed open the garden gate and whispered hello to the two garden gnomes that stood guard. They’d been there for as long as she could remember, her dad giving them a yearly makeover as the weather faded them. Effie had started to say hello and goodbye to them as a child and the habit had stuck well into adulthood.
Closing the gate behind her, Effie made her way up the garden path, which in a few weeks would be lined with bright yellow daffodils. She paused on the doorstep to take in the garden. Other than some bright bursts of pansies, it was still slumbering from winter. In a few weeks, as well as the daffodils, tulips would be bobbing their heads and then the roses would begin to bloom. If she left, Effie would miss everything springing back to life.
Pulling her key out of her pocket, she shook her head. If she took Clive’s new role she’d only be in Polcarrow, it wouldn’t be like moving away to university, to London, leaving everything familiar behind only to have her big city hopes and dreams shattered. She’d spent the day wafting around the bookshop in a daze, imagining herself in the tiny Polcarrow shop, the sunlight streaming in through the big bay window, the walls a rainbow of colourful spines.
After the disappointment that had been London, Effie hadn’t considered moving away again, but at least she would still be in Cornwall, and after all, despite all her savings, it wasn’t as if she had enough money to open her own independent bookshop. This really was the next best thing.
Effie unlocked the door and let herself in. The cosy comfort of her parental home was a warm, familiar embrace. Closing her eyes, Effie soaked up the homely atmosphere. The radio was playing rock classics at a gentle volume, fighting with the sound of the evening news on the television. She could hear her parents chattering away in the kitchen, from where a delicious aroma wafted. What would it be like to leave this behind?
Rosemary, Effie’s mum, stuck her head around the door, her hair wild and her apron stained with tomato sauce. ‘Evening, love, almost ready. Lasagne, your favourite.’ She blew Effie a kiss before disappearing back into the kitchen. ‘Brian, I asked you to make a salad!’
‘I’ll just go and get changed,’ Effie called before heading upstairs to the sanctuary that was her bedroom. Painted pale pink and rammed to the rafters with paperbacks, almost all of them sweeping, swoony historical romances featuring earls or dukes or Vikings. Her desk was strewn with an assortment of notebooks, makeup and a half-finished jumper she was knitting for her dad. It was purple-striped and currently a tangle of knots and dropped stiches.
Flopping onto her bed, Effie pulled the paperwork Clive had given her from her bag, and let out a squeal of delight. Her own shop! Well, not her own exactly. She could hardly believe it was happening, almost daren’t. Maybe she should’ve accepted on the spot? What if Clive also went away and had second thoughts? Effie sat up, the terror that gripped her at that thought was proof enough that there was only one decision she could make. Propping herself up on her elbows, she surveyed her cosy little bedroom, her childhood playroom, her teenage haven turned grown-up sanctuary.
Would she be packing all this up to take with her? Or just the essentials whilst she got settled in? She should’ve asked more questions but she’d been completely stunned by Clive’s proposal.
Effie glanced around her. Her life in this room was comfortable, well worn in. The faux sheepskin rug on the carpet that covered up a nail-polish stain, the shelf where all her childhood teddies sat watching over her, the dip in her mattress that held her whilst she slept. What would it be like to sleep somewhere different?
Although she’d considered leaving home, it had always been a sort of abstract dream, something she could casually make her way towards. Yes, there had been a very brief moment of time after university when she’d considered going to Manchester with Brad, but that was something she was embarrassed to look back on now. She’d been diligently saving and had imagined a nice little flat somewhere in Penzance but had never thought of moving as far away as Polcarrow, on the other side of the peninsula. She flicked through the paperwork again, her eyes studying the dated flat, but it looked habitable, and she could easily transform it into a home from home.
