Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Susie had had a disaster, followed swiftly by a meltdown, and Jess was trying to sort it out.
A teenager had gone past her stall on a skateboard, hit an uneven patch of floor, and let go of their coconut-and-lime smoothie, which had upended and landed in a giant, creamy splat all over her Better Babies stall. The girl had been apologetic, but Susie had turned up at No Vase Like Home with tears in her eyes. I’m sure Jess can help, Wendy had soothed, and Jess had glanced at all the clocks, seen it was only half an hour until Ash was due, and tried not to groan out loud.
She’d made a mad dash to the nearest hair salon, borrowed one of their water sprays and a hairdryer, and for the last forty minutes had been cleaning and then drying the cuddly toys, changing bags and soft blankets until she was overheated, Susie was smiling serenely, and the fluffy items looked as if they’d been through a round of electric-shock therapy. By the time she’d finished it was ten past twelve and panic had set in.
‘Thank you so much,’ Susie cooed. ‘Can I buy—’
‘I have to run,’ Jess said. ‘I need to get these back to the salon, and then...’ She swallowed. ‘And then I’ve got lunch, so—’
‘Another time?’
‘Another time,’ Jess agreed, though she didn’t know what, exactly, she was agreeing to. She pushed through the tourists, gritting her teeth – why was it so busy today? – and gave the salon back their things, thanked them profusely, and almost got a faceful of hairspray as she passed by the chair closest to the door on her way out.
By the time she got back to No Vase Like Home, she was flustered and frantic, and the look Wendy gave her did nothing to improve her mood.
‘I tried to tell him you wouldn’t be long, but it was so busy in here.’ They both looked around the empty shop. There were signs of a rush: items left haphazardly on shelves, a blanket pulled out and dumped in a heap. Someone had discarded a crumpled paper bag in the sparkly twigs by the door, but Jess didn’t care about that now.
‘He just left?’ He hadn’t waited for her.
Wendy looked apologetic. ‘I only managed to tell him you weren’t here. I didn’t have a chance to explain why.’
Jess bit her lip. She should go and get a muffin, try to forget about him. Clearly, it was a one-time – two-time – thing. But then.. . ‘He might still be in the market.’
‘You’d better go and find him then,’ Wendy said softly.
Jess grabbed her bag and raced out of the shop.
She didn’t know where to go. She stood, floundering, hoping the answer would come to her. He wasn’t trying on hats at Olga’s stall, and she knew he wasn’t in Susie’s aisle because she’d just come from there. She couldn’t see him down towards the food court, except it was all so busy, so how was she ever supposed to— She heard laughter, deep and rumbling, and her stomach flipped. That had to be Ash. She followed the sound, weaving between tourists and trying not to shove them out of the way, holding on to her last thread of patience. She rounded the corner, saw Spade’s familiar red fedora and also—
‘A kite?’ A laugh bubbled out of her, and the kite, which had legs, was lowered to reveal Ash. His dark hair was untidy, his grey eyes wide with surprise. Her breath caught.
‘Jess? I thought...’ His expression softened. ‘I thought you weren’t here.’
‘I had to help Susie at Better Babies,’ she said. ‘A smoothie disaster. It’s all sorted now, but I’m... I’m sorry I wasn’t there.’
‘You still want to spend time together?’
She stood in front of him, with the beautiful, brightly coloured kite between them. ‘If you do,’ she said. ‘Are we going to fly this?’
Ash’s smile tipped into a grin. ‘That was the plan.’
‘It’s nearly twenty past twelve.’
‘We can have an hour from now.’ His words came out in a rush. ‘But we’ll have to get going. Come on.’ He held the kite out, and she took it. He picked up the two coffees that Spade had balanced on Enzo’s stall.
‘Hey, Enzo,’ she said. ‘Hi, Spade.’
‘You have been busy then, Jess,’ Enzo said.
‘She’s always busy.’ Spade slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his traditional half-headlock. ‘Always helping someone out. She scowls about it, but she can’t stop herself. Ash is your man, eh? I always trust a man with a kite.’
Jess burst out laughing, but her heart skipped at his words. ‘What does that even mean, Spade? I’m sorry, but we have to go.’ She extracted herself from his grip.
‘Get going, you young things.’ Spade shooed them away. ‘Great to meet you, Ash.’
‘You too,’ Ash called over his shoulder.
‘We’re going to Blackheath?’ Jess asked, once they could walk side by side. ‘Can I fold this up?’ She thought she’d already jabbed him in the arm with one of the kite’s corners.
‘Shit, of course,’ Ash said. It looked like he was about to balance one coffee on top of the other so he could help.
Laughing, Jess turned away from him and folded the kite, then wound its tail up so it couldn’t trip or stab anyone. They waited at the lights, the gusty wind pushing Jess’s hair into her face as they dodged people on the narrow pavement, then walked through the gateway into Greenwich Park.
Jess’s legs burned and her breaths shortened as they strode up the hill. They went past the observatory – too early for its ball drop today – then down the long, wide driveway, with parking spaces either side and trees framing the lawns that stretched away from them, leading to the bandstand and pond, the formal gardens.
‘Did you buy this specially?’ Jess asked, once the ground had evened out and her breathing had slowed.
‘There aren’t many places to fly a kite in Holborn,’ Ash said.
‘But you did when you were younger?’
He frowned. ‘I mean, we must have done, once or twice. I don’t really remember.’
‘So if you’re not doing this to show off your skills, then why did you bring it?’
Ash stopped suddenly, then turned to face her. A woman walking two sleek Dalmatians changed course, shooting them a glare over her shoulder. Ash didn’t notice, and Jess ignored it. ‘I have come here today with a brightly coloured kite, decked out with rainbow bows and ribbons, and you think I brought it so I could look cool in front of you?’
Jess laughed even as she shrugged. ‘OK. Maybe not.’
‘I made a friend on the boat,’ he said, as they started walking again. ‘She had pigtails and red patent shoes. I think she was five.’
Jess’s cheeks hurt from smiling. ‘OK,’ she said again.
‘I bought this because I thought it would be fun,’ he told her. ‘But if we get onto the heath and there’s some guy with a stunt kite, wearing proper sports gloves and mirrored sunglasses, you bet I’m going to try and compete with him. Get our kite to fly higher than his.’
‘Oh God,’ Jess said. ‘I really hope there’s a professional kite-flyer now. I would love to see that!’
Ash made a disgruntled noise, but when Jess glanced at him, he was smiling.
There were two other kites dancing in the sky above the heath, but neither looked like stunt kites. One was shaped like an octopus, with huge eyes and tentacles wiggling in the wind, and the other was a diamond like theirs, its red and blue design distinctly patriotic. They found a spot close to the park gates, the spire of Blackheath Church hazy in the distance, a cluster of rooks pecking through the grass nearby.
‘Are you going to challenge him?’ Jess pointed at the small boy in a blue parka, taking the reins of the octopus.
‘It wouldn’t be fair,’ Ash said. ‘He’s too young to be gifted the arrogance of flying against us. I’m not sure we’re even going to get this thing in the air.’
‘Of course we are,’ Jess said as she unfolded it. Even this low to the ground, the wind was whipping the tail into a fervour.
‘Here,’ Ash said. ‘Let’s swap. Americano.’
He passed Jess the cup, and she was surprised that there was no telltale leakage darkening the stiff cardboard. ‘Is this a skill of yours?’ She handed him the kite once he’d put his own cup on the grass. ‘Holding onto coffee in unstable situations?’
He unwound the kite’s string, gripping the handle firmly as he gave it more slack. ‘Maybe it is,’ he said. ‘I’ve never monitored my ability to not spill coffee, but I’m as surprised as you that we haven’t lost more. Now, I guess this is what we’re supposed to be doing?’ The kite was trailing along the ground, catching in the grass.
‘Didn’t you look it up?’ Jess was laughing again. ‘I think I should hold the kite until enough of the string’s unravelled, then... throw it up, see if the wind catches it?’
‘OK,’ Ash said, ‘that sounds good.’
Jess put her cup next to his and went to rescue the kite. She held it in both hands, and walked backwards while Ash unspooled the string. She could feel the wind tugging at the thin fabric in a hopeful sort of way.
‘Now?’ Ash called.
‘I’ll throw it up?’
‘Yes! Go!’
She braced her legs wide and threw the kite into the air. It shimmied for a second then plummeted back to the ground. ‘Ouch,’ Jess said, on the kite’s behalf.
‘Never mind,’ Ash shouted. ‘We’ll try again. I’m not letting Mary Poppins get the better of us!’
‘No way!’ Jess agreed, fighting to make her voice carry above the wind. ‘Let’s do this!’
They tried again and again, Ash letting out more string, Jess waiting until she felt a tug of wind, then throwing the kite into the air. Sometimes it went up a few feet, then came crashing back down. Sometimes it didn’t even catch the wind, sinking sadly to the grass without even trying. A couple of times it swerved towards Jess and she had to jump out of the way.
By the time Ash came over to her, she was sweaty and giggling, and the kite was lying limply on the ground.
Ash flopped into the grass next to the forlorn toy, his breaths staccato. ‘This is harder than it looks,’ he said, as Jess sat next to him. ‘How are those kids doing it?’
She looked over at the young family with the octopus kite, their heads angled upwards, staring at their soaring sea creature. ‘Maybe they just believe they can do it?’
‘I think we can do it,’ Ash said, handing her her coffee. ‘It’s probably cold by now.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Jess took it gratefully. ‘A break, then we’ll try again in a minute?’
‘Definitely. I’m not giving up.’
‘It’s a good superpower to have,’ Jess said, after a minute.
‘Flying a kite?’ Ash asked. ‘Surely flying like a kite is better.’
‘No, the ability to not lose coffee. We came all the way from the market, up the hill, through the park, and my cup’s still full. It’s not life-changing, but it’s still impressive.’
Ash stretched his legs out on the grass. ‘Maybe everyone has a superpower, but most of us have small ones, like not spilling coffee, always arriving at the bus stop just as the bus turns up, being able to tie the perfect tie. Maybe it’s only a few, very select people who get the world-saving superpowers, like flying and X-ray vision.’
Jess grinned. ‘Aren’t these small superpowers you’re talking about just skills?’
Ash shook his head. ‘Turning up at the bus stop just as the bus pulls up isn’t something you can learn. I’m not talking about memorising the timetable, I mean you get there at the perfect time even when it’s late. And we dragged ourselves all the way up this hill, out here, and you were the one who pointed out that I’ve not lost you any coffee. Under the circumstances, it seems beyond the bounds of normal human skill.’
‘So it’s a mini-superpower?’
‘Yes! Or... how about a subtle superpower?’
‘I like that,’ Jess said. ‘A subtle superpower.’
‘What would yours be?’ Ash turned to face her, his knee unapologetically nudging hers where she was sitting cross-legged on the grass.
‘My subtle superpower?’ Jess asked, stalling for time.
‘What small but incredible thing are you able to do, to improve your life or other people’s?’
She had thought that it was to bother nobody, to exist quietly by herself, but that hadn’t been working out for her too well recently.
‘Do you know all the lyrics to a song after you’ve only heard it a couple of times?’ Ash suggested. ‘Can you tell what time it is without looking at a watch? I had a teacher who could do that; she instinctively knew what time it was, down to the minute. She wowed us all.’
‘Wowed you?’ Jess asked. ‘With being able to tell the time?’
‘Wowed the nerdy kids,’ Ash corrected with a sheepish smile. ‘Most of my fellow pupils didn’t give a shit, but I thought it was cool.’
‘Are you sure she wasn’t tricking you?’
‘She used to do it in the playground, with her hands behind her back.’
‘And there were no clock towers nearby? No classroom window she could see into that you, as small, impressionable children, didn’t notice?’
‘I don’t think...’ Ash frowned. ‘You’re about to turn my whole world on its head.’
‘Let’s forget about it,’ she said. ‘It was her subtle superpower, not a trick.’
Ash stared at her with a hurt expression.
Jess couldn’t help grinning. ‘Maybe my superpower is to break hearts, dash hopes, crush dreams?’
‘That’s not a superpower. And it’s not something you would do.’
‘I’m not sure you know me well enough to decide that,’ Jess said, and the teasing, jovial atmosphere evaporated.
Ash looked at her a beat longer, and Jess turned away, gazing at the expanse of the heath. There were lines of cars queuing like shiny ants on the roads that cut through the space, and the couple with the blue and red kite were packing up, folding their toy into a swanky-looking carrying case.
‘OK,’ Jess said, desperate to recapture the lightness Ash brought with him. ‘Let’s do quickfire questions. What’s your favourite holiday destination?’
‘Seattle, no question,’ he said. ‘Yours?’
‘Aldeburgh,’ she replied, even though her trips to the Greek Islands growing up had been more exotic.
‘In Suffolk?’
‘I like the bleak East Anglian coast. And this is quickfire: no time to dwell or delve. Your favourite TV show.’
‘Friends,’ Ash said, his smile widening when Jess opened her mouth, desperate to know more, but was banjaxed by her own rule. ‘Yours?’
‘Antiques Roadshow,’ she admitted. ‘When they get those people who’ve paid twenty pence for something at a jumble sale, and it turns out to be worth fifty thousand.’
‘Deeply satisfying,’ Ash agreed. ‘Right, my turn. Favourite food?’
‘Japanese gyozas,’ Jess said. There was a stall in the market that she visited far too often on her way home. ‘Yours?’
‘It depends if we’re doing a single item or a whole meal. If it’s a meal then a Sunday roast with beef, Yorkshire puddings, thick gravy and golden roast potatoes. If it’s a single item, then Yorkshire puddings.’
‘All on their own?’ Jess laughed.
‘If they’re crispy, they need no embellishments.’
‘You don’t have a hint of a Yorkshire accent, but maybe you lost it working with all those posh bankers. Are you a secret northerner?’
‘I’m actually half Italian,’ Ash said.
‘Oooh.’ Jess used his admission as an excuse to stare at him. His brown hair was glossy, but not as dark as hers, and his grey eyes were undoubtedly striking, but even though his skin looked as though it would tan easily, she wasn’t sure she would have picked Italian heritage for him. But then, she wasn’t an expert, by any means: she didn’t know much about her own background, had found it too painful to go looking for more after that first, horrible revelation. Edie and Graeme had both been brought up in southeast London, so that was how she thought of herself, too. ‘On your dad’s side, or your mum’s?’ she asked him.
‘Dad’s.’ He ran a hand from the top of his head, down over his neck. ‘But I got more of Mum’s features. My dad didn’t get much of a look-in.’ His smile was tight and quick, gone in a second. ‘What about you?’
Jess tensed automatically. ‘I’m adopted,’ she told him. ‘I don’t know a whole lot about my birth parents.’ She sipped her tepid Americano.
‘Have you... do you want to look for them? Find out more?’
‘I did, once,’ she said, the memory tightening her throat. She swallowed. ‘I haven’t really got that far.’ She didn’t want to tell Ash the whole sorry story – not now.
‘Do you feel part of a family, though?’ Ash asked. ‘With your adopted parents?’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘A glowing endorsement,’ Ash said, but he wasn’t laughing. His gaze was sharper than it had been a moment ago. ‘It must be tough, growing up like that. I mean – if you’re happy, then they’re as real as any family could be. But still, I know that my dad is from a village on the Amalfi coast, just outside Positano, and that my mum grew up an only child in Stratford-upon-Avon. I can’t imagine not having those pieces of my history.’
‘It’s not so bad,’ Jess said. ‘You can invent your own history, if you want to: pretend you’re the daughter of film stars whose affair was secret and then scandalous, who couldn’t possibly keep you. Or that you were left on a church doorstep in a snowstorm, after your mum had an affair with the lord of the local manor. Maybe I’ll discover that I’m the progeny of a world-class opera singer, and that with some coaching I could have an incredible voice.’
‘You think that’s likely?’ Ash asked. ‘Because I am here for having a famous opera-singing friend. I’d want VIP tickets to all your concerts.’
‘If karaoke nights with my friend Lola are anything to go by, that might not be my origin story.’
‘Shame,’ Ash said. ‘And I’m sorry.’
‘What for?’
‘Despite your insistence that it gives you freedom, I don’t think being adopted can be all sweetness and light. All families have their issues – believe me, I know.’ His laugh sounded slightly bitter. ‘But adoption, I always thought it must add another layer of complication, of... rough edges, to the family dynamic.’
‘Like when people put crushed biscuit in tiramisu?’
‘Exactly like that. Who puts biscuit in tiramisu?’
‘Do you have a nonna who makes it for you? I bet proper Italian tiramisu is very different to what you get in Prezzo.’
‘My nonna died when I was little,’ Ash said. ‘I have had tiramisu in Italy, though. A long time ago.’ Jess watched him swallow, and then, a second later, he was on his feet, holding out his hands to her. ‘Come on, we haven’t got much time left, and I’m determined to get this kite in the air.’
Jess let him pull her to her feet, and this time she took the handle, making sure there were no kinks in the string as Ash walked backwards, holding the kite in both hands, its ribboned tail trying to wrap around his long legs. Jess didn’t blame it.
They tried again, Ash thrusting the kite into the air when there was a strong gust of wind, then darting out of the way when it came slicing back down, its sharp edges aiming for his head. He sighed at it, his hands on his hips, as if he was a forlorn parent who had been let down. Jess started laughing again, and this time she found it hard to stop, every gesture or expression Ash made setting her off again. By the time they were on their fourth try, she was struggling to focus, holding the handle limply, her gaze fixed firmly on him, so when the kite tugged and then lifted, she almost let go. She had to use both hands to get it under control, staring as the bright diamond soared up into the sky.
‘Yes!’ Ash punched the air and raced towards her, glancing back every few seconds to check it was still flying. ‘You did it!’
‘We did it,’ Jess said. He stood next to her, and they gazed up at their achievement, the ribbons dancing happily against the blue.
‘Here.’ Jess’s heart was in her throat as she took Ash’s right hand – the one furthest from her – and placed it over hers on the handle. It felt clichéd, like something out of a film, and it made his position awkward, unless he came to stand behind her, which was what he did.
‘This OK?’ he asked gently, bringing his left hand round her too, until she was cradled in his arms, her back pressed to his front, while they both held onto the kite’s handle. She tipped her head up, nestling against his chest. He smelled like coffee and chocolate, something dark and spicy underneath.
‘Yeah.’ It came out scratchy. She could feel her limbs softening, while everything inside her tightened, tingled, at the sensation of Ash’s strong body around hers, sheltering her from the wind. ‘Yeah, this is good.’
They watched the kite in silence for a few moments, then Ash said, ‘Can I have another one of your quotes?’
Jess inhaled. ‘You’re putting me on the spot. It usually takes me ages to come up with them.’ She didn’t tell him that her brain was entirely scrambled from being so close to him, even though she’d orchestrated it.
‘OK,’ he murmured, his breath warm against her head. Jess stared at his feet. He was wearing a pair of battered blue Vans, and she wondered how long he’d had them, where they’d been. To Italy, perhaps? Up and down the river a few times, certainly. And to his next appointment, which she still knew nothing about. ‘How about... Flying isn’t as hard as it looks; just make sure a part of you stays tethered to the ground.’
Jess smiled. ‘That’s pretty good, considering you just came up with it.’
‘Or... We all have superpowers, you just need to believe in yourself to discover what yours is.’
Jess sucked in a breath. She let go of the kite’s handle, and turned in his arms. ‘That one’s great. Please let me have it? Let me use it in my shop?’ She stared up at him, his jaw dusted with stubble, his grey eyes close to hers as he looked down at her, surprised. ‘We’ll seal the deal with this kiss.’
‘What?’ Ash swallowed. ‘Jess—’
Before he could say anything else, she pressed her hands into his chest, leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, brushing her lips against his warm, slightly prickly skin. ‘There,’ she said, feeling bold and terrified all at once. ‘It’s mine now.’
‘Really?’ he whispered. His eyes had dropped to her mouth. ‘You realise I almost let go of the kite?’
‘I would have bought us another one,’ Jess told him, and as Ash smiled down at her, some of the surprise leaving his face, she had to work very hard not to kiss him again, not to tuck herself against him and let his arms come properly around her, letting the kite fly off into the sky, no longer tethered to the ground. ‘For next time.’
‘Next time,’ Ash echoed, as he started to pull the kite in, letting it down gently. It felt like a promise.