Jake’s eyes bounced from Effie to Tara and back again.
‘Jake! Jakey!’ Tara bounded over to him as quickly as her skyscraper heels allowed.
‘Tara?’ You made it!’ he exclaimed, as she threw her arms around him in a way that dragged Effie’s heart to the bottom of the ocean.
Jake’s eyes were full of regret as he caught Effie’s over Tara’s shoulder. Effie narrowed her gaze and turned her back on him and whatever it was he was going to say. She made her way over to Lola who was tidying glasses at the refreshments table.
‘Do you need a hand?’ Effie forced brightness into her voice.
‘If you don’t mind,’ Lola said, ‘I just need to take these into the café, put the glasses through the dishwasher. Can you grab that tray?’
‘Sure.’ Effie picked up the tray and followed Lola out and into the brightly lit café kitchen. ‘Where should I put them?’
‘Just on the counter. That’s lovely, thank you.’ Lola straightened up and studied Effie. ‘Are you OK? You look a bit pale.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt out that Jake’s ex-girlfriend had sashayed in. Was Tara an ex though? What did being on a break actually mean? Instead, Effie rubbed her forehead and stuttered, ‘Yes, I think I’m going to head home, my head, it’s been quite a busy evening.’
Lola’s brow furrowed as if she didn’t believe her but instead of voicing her doubts, she simply said, ‘Of course, you have a good night. Put a cold flannel on your head, that should help.’
Effie smiled her gratitude, for the advice and for being so easily let go. As she hurried out of the kitchen, she glanced around, eyes searching for Jake, for reassurance, but instead she found the evidence she’d needed to remind her to stay well away.
She spied him through the open gallery door, illuminated like one of the works of art she’d admired. With hands on hips, Jake was leaning forward listening intently to whatever Tara was telling him, a smile of familiarity on his face. Her gestures were exaggerated, her laughter piercing the night air. Jake didn’t even glance up. Was this what he’d wanted to talk about? Effie fled the scene as quickly as her high heels would carry her.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Feeling like Cinderella fleeing the ball, Effie lifted her skirt and hurried between the two properties running up the stairs to her own flat. She unlocked the door and almost hurled herself inside.
Door closed, Effie sank down to the floor. What had Jake said? They were on a break. Had he known Tara was going to turn up tonight? He must’ve done. Jake must’ve invited her. Oh gosh, and Effie had allowed her hopes to float dangerously close to the surface. He said he wanted to talk to her, well, there didn’t seem any need for that now.
Effie fished her phone out of her bag and opened her rarely used Instagram app. It wasn’t her style to snoop, plus she’d been so busy with the shop, so she’d not looked since Maddie had found Tara’s profile. However, now her curiosity got the better of her as she typed Tara’s name into the search box and pulled up her account.
There were a few pinned posts. The third one was a few years old and showed Jake lounging in a hammock next to Tara in blissful contentment. But it was the first one that hollowed Effie out; a stunning tropical beach engagement shot. She hadn’t recalled seeing that when Maddie had been sifting through the page. She opened it up. It had been posted the previous week. So much for them being on a break!
She opened the first few posts, which showed Tara travelling around the English countryside, showing off the first blooms of spring, a fancy afternoon tea in a luxury hotel as well as a sponsored post for a very expensive-looking electric car. In all the photos she looked immaculate, her signature curls shining like dark chocolate, a smile breaking like dawn across her elfin face. Tara didn’t look the sort to contort herself into a wetsuit and let her hair dry into wild waves.
Swallowing back all her questions, Effie began to scroll through the comments. Eventually she found a reel titled ‘Where is Jake?’ Against her better judgement, Effie opened it. Tara was sitting in front of a mirror, hair back in a fluffy headband, doing her makeup whilst discussing the products she was using and explaining where her boyfriend was.
‘Hello, my lovelies, I’ve seen all your comments, and I know you’re all wondering where my gorgeous Jakey is. I wanted to make this video to stop all the speculation and reassure you that everything is fine. Really. We’re just working on some individual projects but we both have something really exciting coming. I know you’ll love it.’
Effie glanced at the date. Seven weeks ago. Just before she had moved to Polcarrow and met Jake. No wonder he’d been cagey about his future plans. Effie was embarrassed to admit that she’d thought the term ‘being on a break’ had meant the relationship was heading towards its end, not a reconciliation. She pushed aside memories of their tender kisses, his claim that he was seventy per cent sure he’d stay in Polcarrow. When had he decided to get back together with Tara?
Exhausted from the social activity of the evening and from scrolling through social media, Effie put her phone back in her bag and let out a long sigh. Determined not to let some man make her cry, she wiped away the tears, her hands coming away with mascara smears. Her eye caught the time on the kitchen clock. She’d been sitting on the floor for forty-five minutes, lost in her social media doomscrolling. Forty-five minutes and Jake hadn’t come to find her. Effie’s heart sank when she realised where his priorities lay.
She hauled herself up, padded into the bathroom and removed her makeup, before changing out of her dress and into her pyjamas. The dress, which Effie had felt a million dollars in at the start of the night, looked frumpy next to Tara’s sleek sheath. Heading back into the kitchen, she turned on one of the low lamps and set the kettle to boil. She was making a camomile tea, musing sadly on how differently the night was meant to end with celebratory drinks in the pub, when there was a knock at the door.
Effie froze. The knock came again.
‘Effie, please, we need to talk.’
She swallowed. She could just pretend she hadn’t heard; that she’d gone to bed. Her name came again like a plea. She crossed over to the door and pulled it open, fixing Jake with what she hoped was a steely, unimpressed stare. ‘OK, what do you have to say?’
‘Effie, I’m sorry, I . . .’ he floundered.
‘Do you have something to be sorry about?’ she asked.
‘No. Yes. Maybe. Effie, please, can I come in?’
She stepped aside and let him into her flat, her sanctuary. She regarded him through the moonlight, the distance between them now feeling unnavigable. She wasn’t going to start this conversation.
