Chapter One
Eight years later
Effie paused, hand raised, ready to knock.
For the millionth time she wondered why she’d received a summons to the office of Clive Trevellyn, owner of Books by the Sea.
First thing on a dreary March Monday morning too.
Stifling a yawn, having tossed and turned the previous night, her mind whirred as she tried to figure out what she had done wrong, sure she was going to get the sack, then panicking about what she’d do next.
Effie loved her job in the bookshop. Books were everything to her.
She didn’t think she’d be above begging or bargaining to be kept on.
Knowing there was only one way to find out, Effie knocked.
A bit too timidly at first, before applying a bit more force.
‘Come in!’ Clive called.
Effie pushed open the door and slipped inside, tugging her rainbow knit cardigan around her like a comfort blanket. ‘You asked to see me.’
Momentarily confused, Clive shuffled some papers. ‘Er, yes, I did. Sit down.’ He pushed the spare chair across to Effie, and she balanced expectantly on the edge of it. Clive fiddled with his tie. ‘The thing is, well . . . do you want a cup of tea or anything?’
Effie shook her head, her stomach clenched. Whatever this was, she wanted it over with as quickly as possible.
‘Right.’ Clive rubbed his bald head. ‘The thing is, I’ve been thinking of expanding for a while. Opening another shop,’ he explained when Effie still looked at him blankly.
Wishing she’d said yes to that cup of tea, just for something comforting to wrap her hands around, Effie asked, ‘A new shop?’
‘I’d like you to run it,’ Clive put simply, ‘you’re our longest serving member of staff, the customers love your window displays, you have experience.
You love books more than the rest of us put together.
I also trust you to get it up and running and make a success of it.
What do you think? Your own shop, Effie.
Well, technically it’d be my shop, but . . .’ He shrugged.
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 in Cornish Life last 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.