Chapter Ten
‘Ugh.’ Effie sank back against the counter. It turned out that painting a whole shop wasn’t hard, but it was deathly boring. She checked the time. ‘What? I’ve only been doing this for an hour and a half?’
She glanced from the paintbrush to the shelves. They weren’t turning out as she’d expected. Despite her sanding the varnish off, the wood underneath was still lumpy. They looked more like an enthusiastic school project than the beginnings of a sophisticated shop.
Effie put the brush down and reached for her phone, ready to call Clive and tell him she didn’t care about her promotion, or the threat of him sending Zach, setting up the shop on her own was impossible.
Maybe she could convince him to send in professionals.
Just as she was about to press ‘call’ the bark of a dog almost made her leap out of her skin.
‘Oh gosh, it’s you.’ Effie spun round to find Alf and Scruff lingering in the open doorway.
‘Sorry, love, didn’t mean to give you a fright—’ Alf’s eyes twinkled ‘—just wanted to see how you’re getting on.’
Effie signalled with the brush towards the shelves. ‘Not very well,’ she admitted, her cheeks colouring as she recalled brushing off Jake’s help. How foolish she’d been. ‘I think Jake was offering to help but I turned him down.’
‘Jake, ah, he’s a good lad, known him since he was a babe in arms. He’s done well for himself,’ Alf said proudly.
Effie made a non-committal noise in response.
‘Would you like his help?’
Effie sighed. ‘I’d take Scruff’s help if it meant it was done quicker.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t trust him with a paintbrush,’ Alf said, ‘he’s the messy sort. He prefers a more supervisory role.’
Despite her internal gloom, Alf’s kindness brought a smile to her face. ‘He’s welcome to stay and supervise,’ Effie said.
Although she usually preferred her own company, spending all her days and evenings alone was starting to wear on her.
All the conversations she’d had in the café had been pleasant, friendly, but she still felt like an outsider, like she didn’t know how to properly insert herself into the cosy Polcarrow life she’d seen playing out around her.
Give it a few more weeks, she reminded herself, you’ve only just arrived.
‘Why don’t you come next door and take a break? Lola’s made some fresh scones,’ Alf tempted.
‘I’d wondered what that divine smell was.’ She sighed. ‘I’d love to Alf, but if I keep stopping, I’ll never get this done. But thank you.’
Alf nodded. ‘I’ll bring you round a cuppa.’
‘Alf, you don’t have to do that,’ Effie said. ‘That’s very kind.’
‘Come on, Scruff.’ Alf gave the dog’s lead a tug.
Effie watched them amble past the window before picking up her paint tray and brush and heading back to the shelves. Lemony sunlight streamed in through the window, it was the most perfect day and she was stuck inside.
‘Come on, Eff, if you get these done, you can go out and enjoy the weather,’ she muttered to herself as she climbed back onto the stepladder.
A gentle knock at the door made her turn around. Rather than Alf and Scruff, Jake stood there, a tray with two takeaway cups and a scone in his hands.
‘Delivery.’ He held up the treats. ‘Alf said you were struggling.’
Effie narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You haven’t come to gloat, have you?’
‘No, why?’
‘After I asked how hard could painting be?’ She signalled to the shelves. ‘It’s bloody hard. And boring.’
Jake cracked a smile. ‘Well, I did kind of know that. But you were so determined to do it yourself.’
Effie harumphed as she made her way down the ladder steps.
‘Have you done anything like this before?’
Effie shook her head and sighed. ‘No and I didn’t think it’d be hard. I mean, it’s just paint but those shelves look, well, rubbish.’
Jake handed her the tray, which Effie carried over to the counter. Famished, she took a large bite of the scone, letting out a happy sigh as the soft, buttery and fruity flavours burst on her tongue.
Jake gave her an amused look. ‘Good?’
Mouth full, Effie gave him a thumbs up. As she ate, Effie watched Jake inspect her work and tried to quell the irritation he ignited in her.
Too good looking, too kind, too much like the boys she’d unrequitedly lusted after.
She took a sip of her drink. She would not be lusting after Jake, despite the fact he was constantly showing up in crisp white T-shirts that highlighted his nicely tanned and toned arms.
‘Do you own any T-shirts that aren’t white?’ It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. ‘I mean, it can’t be the same one worn three times, it’s spotless.’
Jake tugged the T-shirt away from his body, ‘I have a few. I thought you were too busy glowering at me to notice what I’m wearing.’
‘Oi,’ Effie spluttered, startled by the flirtatious gleam in his eyes.
Cramming the last bit of the scone into her mouth, she wandered over to him.
Dared herself to stand as close as possible.
Side by side, they surveyed the shelves before turning at the same time towards each other.
Effie’s breath caught as his blue eyes roamed over her face, raising colour in her cheeks.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
‘You have paint here.’ He reached towards her face as if he was going to wipe the paint away before withdrawing his hand.
Effie froze. The few seconds they stared at each other stretched out longer than was comfortable. Effie broke his gaze and wiped at the paint. It was dried on. ‘Ugh, I’ll sort it later,’ she said with a sigh.
‘Effie, let me help. My dad is a painter and decorator. I used to help him in the school holidays. I actually quite enjoy painting. Instant results, the subject doesn’t complain if they don’t like the lighting.’
‘You’d help me? Why?’
‘I still feel so awful about taking your photo, plus, I’m at a bit of a loose end.
I’m trying to start a photography business but it’s still very early days,’ he explained.
‘I hate not having anything to do. Also, Effie, I hate to say this—’ he tapped the shelf she’d started on ‘—but with all the will in the world, I don’t think you know enough about decorating to get this to a properly professional standard. ’
Effie knew she should be insulted, that she should protest, but Jake was right, not only did she not have the ability, but she also lacked the will.
Usually she hated asking for help, felt it flagged up a weakness in her, but as she looked at Jake, so openly offering a hand, she knew she’d be a fool to refuse.
‘OK, Jake, if you want to help, that would be great.’ More than great, she thought as she smiled shyly at him, but she didn’t want him to think she needed him that much.