Chapter Eighteen
Although she’d been anxious about attending Alf’s party, it turned out that Effie putting in an appearance had been the best type of publicity for the bookshop.
On Thursday morning, Sue knocked on the door and waved to catch Effie’s attention.
She switched off the vacuum cleaner and headed over to unlock the door.
‘Morning,’ she greeted as she pulled the shop door open to let Sue in.
‘Thought I’d pop by and see how you’re getting on. Everything all right?’ Sue stepped inside and cast her eyes over the freshly painted shelves and walls.
‘Yes, it’s going as well as I could hope, still quite a bit to do though,’ Effie said, as she watched Sue glance over the interior as if measuring it up to see how it’d fit with her own committee plans.
She’d quickly learned that Sue was the driving force behind a lot of happenings in Polcarrow, so having her on side could only be a bonus.
‘Oh, doesn’t it look wonderful?’ Sue sighed as she made her way over to the window with the sea view. ‘I’m so glad to see the space being used. Such a waste to keep it closed. It looks so much bigger now it’s all white. Used to be dreadfully dark.’
‘Definitely,’ Effie agreed before admitting, ‘I had wondered what I’d taken on when I arrived here and if I’d get it done on time, but I’m pleased with how it’s turned out.
’ As she said the words, Effie realised it was true.
She felt an immense sense of pride that she had managed to turn the shop from drab to dazzling in such a short space of time.
Of course Jake had been invaluable help, and the Easter Saturday launch didn’t feel quite as daunting now.
All Effie was waiting for was the boxes of books to arrive and to add her own finishing touches.
She wanted the shop to look both spectacular and cosy, especially as it was situated next door to Lola’s café.
Effie planned for them to be in perfect harmony with each other, to create the ideal place for book lovers to flock to.
What more could anyone want than books, tea and cake?
Jake was out for the day catching up with to two old schoolfriends who were expecting a baby and wanted to book him for a pregnancy photoshoot, so Effie was glad of some company and the chance to take a break. ‘How long had it been empty?’
‘Oh years. It sold all sorts really, stuff for tourists, odds and ends for locals. I don’t think we’d ever thought of it opening up again.
People have been interested in it, but nothing ever came of it.
Too much work, never the right time, you know the sort, a shame to leave it empty,’ Sue explained.
‘I’m glad it’s going to be a bookshop. Feels very wholesome. ’
‘Me too. But I’m still a bit worried it’s too out of the way,’ Effie confessed.
Sue took a sip of her drink and shook her head. ‘Not at all. Not with social media. A bookshop with a sea view next to a vintage café, I think your business is going to be fine.’
‘I’m glad you think so but it’s not actually mine, although I wish it was,’ Effie said. ‘My boss took a chance on the location so I feel pressure to make sure it works out.’
‘Hmm, maybe, but you can only do your best and see what happens. Lola took a chance and look how that’s worked out,’ Sue reminded her. ‘Are you just selling books or other bits and pieces? I do like a knick-knack.’
Effie smiled. ‘Mostly books, but not just novels, we’ll be stocking photo books, local history, greetings cards, maps for walkers.
There’ll also be a small shelf for quality second-hand books.
I’m going to have a section at the back for kids’ books, too.
’ She pointed to the far corner. She’d ordered a brightly coloured rug and was waiting for its delivery.
It was the area of the shop she was most looking forward to transforming.
‘Oh Effie! That sounds so lovely! Very exciting! Are you going to do story time? My kids loved story time when they were little.’
It hadn’t occurred to Effie to offer anything of the sort, but now Sue had mentioned it, it seemed like a good way of getting people involved in the shop. ‘That’s a great idea, I don’t see why not.’
‘I’m sure the parents would love it. If you need any excitement drumming up, let me know.
People keep telling me they’re looking forward to the opening.
’ Her phone pinged. ‘Oh, is that the time, I better get going, nice to see it coming along well. Looking forward to the launch. I could contact local press if you want? And we must talk about the book club; I’ve been trying to organise one for ages. ’
‘Sure! That would be great,’ Effie said as she waved Sue off.
If the rest of the day was anything to go by, Effie wouldn’t need to drum up support via the village committee or local press because almost everyone in Polcarrow popped by to have a look at the shop, see how she was getting on and chat about their favourite books.
Steve liked ghost stories, the scarier, the better, so he could try and spook the punters.
Tristan was interested in local history and several teenage girls asked if there would be a romantasy section, their eyes wide as they swooned over fairy princes.
Effie found herself in a long conversation with the woman who cleaned the holiday lets about romance, both of them deciding that Vikings beat brooding dukes every time.
As she was about to close up for the evening, her phone rang. ‘Hello?’
‘Effie, how’s it going? Just wanted to touch base on a few things. Are you ready for the books to be brought down? Surely the paint’s dry by now,’ Clive fired away. ‘I’ve got the till to be installed, you ready for that too?’
Effie perched on the windowsill. ‘Yes, I’m ready for the books and the till.’
‘Excellent, the photos are looking fantastic. I knew you’d manage to transform the space. How’s it going with the locals? Are they keen? Or obstructive?’
‘Oh definitely keen,’ Effie replied, ‘they’re full of suggestions for what they want to see. I’ve been asked about running a story time for kids and one of them wants me to help with a book club.’
‘A book club, why didn’t I think of that?
That’s an excellent idea. Maybe we could extend it to this branch?
Glad they’re keen,’ he said, ‘just do what you need to make it a success. Not so sure about story time though, I don’t want us running a crèche, we’re a shop.
But you know, I trust you, Effie, just do what you can to get the public through the door. ’
Before Effie could respond she heard the sound of Clive clicking his computer mouse. ‘What’s this about an order for two armchairs? Yellow? Our colour is blue.’
Worried her plans might be thwarted, she made her case.
‘For the window. Yellow is nice and bright. Perfect for a spring launch. Trust me. It’ll complement the décor really well.
Blue looks great in Penzance but Polcarrow is a much more gentle place, I really think the yellow will be perfect.
There’s a view over the sea. It’ll be nice for readers to sit and look through what they want to buy. ’
Clive gave a dissatisfied grunt. ‘Are you sure? I get that it’s a good space, but we want people buying books, not just lounging around.’
Effie steeled herself. She was not going to back down where the chairs were concerned.
‘What we need is customers. Polcarrow is a little out of the way but the shop is next door to an adorable café. If we create a cosy atmosphere with a sea view the shop will end up all over social media and that’ll draw the customers in. ’
‘Hadn’t thought of that, good thing you’re setting this up, not me.
You’ve clearly got your finger on the pulse.
Do what you need, Effie, but I want books sold not just girls posing on armchairs with them, all right?
Gotta go, keep me posted, send some more photos.
I’ll let you know when I’m popping down with the till. ’
Effie hung up and glanced around the shop.
She snapped a few pictures then fired them off to Clive.
Sometimes she wondered why on earth he ran a bookshop, as he wasn’t much of a reader.
He’d inherited the shop from his father, who had been a bookworm, the business having been started by Clive’s grandfather.
Clive was keeping it running through a sense of sentimentality, which was admirable.
However, Clive didn’t seem to understand that book lovers liked to linger among the shelves, pulling off books, inspecting the covers, reading the blurbs, flicking through the pages, sometimes giving them a surreptitious sniff.
Clive wanted sales. Effie, who loved a wander around a cute characteristic bookshop, who followed lots of them on social media, understood what readers wanted.
Books were a safe haven, an escape and the shops that sold them needed to reflect this.
She wanted this shop to provide a place of comfort and wonder to readers, to have them step through the door and feel as if they’d been gathered into a gentle, bookish hug.
Effie closed up and let herself out into the cool evening air, twilight already starting to draw in over the bay.
Locking the door, she wished the shop goodnight.
As she pulled away, her hand ran down the door.
Stepping back, she took in the dull, flaking red paint, which gave off the unkempt, unloved vibe of an abandoned shop.
Effie picked off some more of the paint, exposing the wood beneath.
Painting the door was next on her list of jobs.
Taking a few steps backwards, the ethereal evening light softening the village around her, Effie took in the shop, the vacant window, the empty shelves, a locked-up shell of potential.
She thought of the two yellow armchairs, as bright as the spring sun, as joyful as a daffodil.
Her mind fell to the tin of navy door paint she’d ordered, which remained unopened in the kitchen.
Nothing about the heavy night-time shade felt right.
Could she extend her yellow theme out here?
A door the colour of the sun to greet the dawn?
Clive said he trusted her. Would this be step too far?
Yellow was warm, welcoming and hopeful, everything she wanted the shop to be.