The Happy Hour

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Ash appeared in the doorway of No Vase Like Home at ten to twelve on Sunday, wearing a black shirt over jeans and a grey trilby with a peacock feather sticking out of the band.

‘What’s this?’ Jess was smiling already. ‘Dress-up Sunday?’

‘Not quite.’ Ash had a coffee carrier in one hand and held out the other hand to her. ‘But this is for you.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Jess shook her head, a laugh spilling out of her. ‘A cherry red flat cap?’

‘It’s raspberry, actually.’ He waggled it and, reluctantly, Jess took it and put it on, pulling the brim down low. ‘How do I look?’

Ash’s smile was slow, his eyes lighting up. ‘Stunning,’ he said. ‘Shall we go?’

‘Have fun kids!’ Wendy called from behind the counter.

Ash led the way through the market, slipping easily past people while Jess stayed close behind him. Now they were together again, she felt an electric charge. She couldn’t stop thinking about last weekend, and how she’d recklessly manoeuvred his arms around her.

‘What’s with the hats?’ she asked, when they were clear of the market and Ash was leading her in the direction of the Queen’s House.

‘There’s a Greenwich film tour, did you know that?’ Ash slowed down so she could catch up with him, then handed her a coffee. The sun was hiding behind a slate-grey sky, a darker churn of clouds to the north threatening rain.

‘And it requires hats?’ Jess had heard of it. Greenwich, with all its stunning architecture and history, was a popular filming location for big budget productions, and the museum service ran a tour showing off the prime spots. She had never heard of participants needing costumes, though.

‘The original film tour doesn’t start until half twelve,’ Ash said, ‘and we only have an hour, so I’ve devised one of my own. Welcome to the Ash Faulkner tour of outstanding Greenwich filming locations.’ He doffed his trilby at her, bowing low over his outstretched leg, and a woman walking behind him muttered, ‘For God’s sake’, as she had to change course to avoid tripping over him.

‘You’re taking me on my own personal film tour,’ Jess said. ‘With hats.’

‘I thought, as the guide, that I needed to stand out somehow.’

‘From your audience of one?’ Jess sipped her coffee.

‘Exactly. And then I thought, how unfair that I got a great hat, and you didn’t. Thus, the raspberry baker-boy cap, which really suits you.’

‘A film tour with added flattery?’

‘Aren’t they the best kind? Come on.’ Ash walked up the wide gravel walkway between decorative hedges shaped like spirals, and Jess followed. The Queen’s House was starkly white even on this gloomy day, with blank windows and curved, symmetrical staircases leading up to the ground-floor veranda.

‘So, this is the Queen’s House.’ Ash kept glancing between his phone and her, managing to look both ridiculous and incredibly dashing in the ostentatious hat. ‘It was used in the recent Netflix production of Bridgerton, which I watched in great detail in preparation for today.’

Jess smirked. ‘Are you going to reenact the scene that was filmed here? All the best film tours have reenactments.’

‘They do?’

Jess nodded.

‘Right. OK, then. The – uh – main characters are arriving at a grand ball,’ Ash said. ‘It’s not one of the more intimate scenes. So we could...’ His brows pulled low as he turned in a slow circle. It was busy despite the weather, with groups of visitors dotting the golden pathways and manicured lawns. Ash’s smile widened and he pointed. ‘There.’

Jess followed his finger. A woman was pushing two children in a sleek black double buggy, a King Charles spaniel trotting happily on a lead at her side. ‘That’s your reenactment?’

‘Just imagine it.’ He tapped on his phone screen and a piece of music, familiar to Jess, filtered out of the tiny speakers. It was the string version of Taylor Swift’s ‘Wildest Dreams’ that she’d heard in the series. She glanced at him, but he was looking ahead.

‘The sky is darker, full of stars instead of clouds, and the pillars have vines and fairy lights wound around them. The air is filled with the summer scent of jasmine, and the string quartet are playing while champagne glasses clink like bells.’ He lowered his voice, and Jess had to strain to hear his words above the swoop of the violin. ‘There’s an undercurrent of anticipation. Everyone feels it, low in their stomachs, wondering who they’re going to meet tonight.’ He pointed at the mum pushing the buggy. ‘There’s Lady Violet Bridgerton.’

‘Was that a guess?’ Jess asked loudly, trying to ignore the pit of anticipation he’d put in her stomach at his words. ‘Who are the children?’

‘Daphne, of course. And... Colin. The small boy playing with the plastic tractor is obviously Colin.’ They watched as the family walked slowly in front of the house, the little girl turning in her seat to say something to her mum.

‘You’ve actually seen Bridgerton?’

‘A good tour guide does his research,’ Ash told her. ‘And the dog is their faithful steed, Midnight.’

‘I don’t remember a horse being named.’

‘Everyone calls their horse Midnight, don’t they? That or Blaze.’

The family stopped in front of the wide steps and then, to Jess’s incredulity, the mum took her little girl’s tiny hand and, carefully, helped her out of the buggy. She was wearing a pink dress, the skirt floaty with a lace trim. The spaniel skittered on the gravel, letting out a single bark, as if cheering

her on.

‘There you go,’ Ash said smugly. ‘The Bridgerton family arriving at the ball. It would probably be a footman that helped Daphne out of the carriage, rather than Lady Violet, but let’s go with it.’

Jess laughed. ‘How could you possibly...?’

‘I’m just lucky.’ Ash grinned at her.

‘The dog is probably called Dave, you know.’

‘Dave sounds quite similar to Blaze,’ Ash pointed out, and Jess shook her head in mock despair. He adjusted his hat. ‘Right. Next stop, the colonnades.’ He pointed at the long walkways running either side of the Queen’s House, shaded by proud, sturdy pillars. ‘They’re used for a fight scene in Bridgerton, and also in the film adaptation of Sense and Sensibility. Follow me.’

Ash kept up a happy patter of information – some of which Jess was sure he was making up – as they strolled along the colonnades and then down to the Old Royal Naval College, which stood between the Queen’s House and the Thames, a gap left between the buildings so whichever monarch was on the throne would have an unobstructed view of the water. Today it was gunmetal grey and slow moving, devoid of shimmer.

‘There’s a huge fight scene in Thor: The Dark World that was filmed over here,’ Ash said, leading her towards the baroque buildings.

‘Are you going to reenact that one, too?’

Ash circled his right shoulder slowly. ‘I hurt my rotator cuff playing rugby, so flipping cars might be a step too far today.’

‘Such a shame,’ Jess said.

People were glancing at them, probably because of their hats, but she didn’t mind: her cap was warm and smelled comforting, and Ash had said she looked stunning in it.

‘Do you know what else was filmed here?’ He spread his arms wide. ‘One of the greatest movies of all time.’

‘Les Misérables? The Queen? Sherlock Holmes?’

Ash narrowed his eyes. ‘Have you been on the film tour before?’

‘No,’ Jess told him. ‘And definitely not this film tour. I don’t care about the other one – there’s no way this one isn’t the best.’

‘I’m glad you think so, because I bet the other tour doesn’t talk about Muppets Most Wanted.’

Jess almost choked on her coffee. ‘Seriously?’

‘They used the Old Royal Naval College as a stand-in for Berlin. If we’re talking about films I have seen, then Muppets Most Wanted is near the top of my list of all-time favourites.’

Jess clutched her hand to her heart. ‘I’m giving up my Sundays to spend time with a Muppets fan?’

Ash looked affronted, and Jess’s stomach flipped at the stern expression, his eyes shadowed beneath the hat, which suddenly didn’t look ridiculous at all. She let her gaze trail over his wide shoulders, the way his black shirt clung to him. She wondered if he’d meant it about his rotator cuff, and if so, how sore it was.

‘Do you prefer horror films?’ he asked.

‘I would argue that all Muppets films fit into that category. Apart from The Muppet Christmas Carol, which is a yearly tradition, obviously.’

‘At least there’s one thing we both agree on. We have one more stop, but it’s a bit of a walk.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I think we have time.’

‘I’m up for it,’ Jess said, and they fell into step alongside each other, walking a few paces in silence.

‘How has your week been?’ Ash asked, and Jess felt a strange mix of relief and sadness that he’d dropped his tour guide persona.

‘It’s been all right,’ she told him. ‘Though I had a shock, the other day.’

Ash’s steps faltered as he looked over at her. ‘What kind of shock? Are you OK?’

‘I’mfine. But I found something out about someone, and it’s shaken me a bit, I suppose. Made me re-evaluate things.’

‘Do you want to share?’ he asked gently. He moved closer to her as a cyclist clad in shiny red Lycra sped down the inside of the road, next to the pavement.

‘I don’t want to betray any confidences.’

‘I don’t know everyoneat the market,’ Ash said. ‘But if it’s someone you know I’ve met, then don’t tell me.’

‘You haven’t, as far as I’m aware.’

‘You can unburden yourself, then.’

‘OK,’ Jess said. ‘I’m going to call her... Tina, just to make things easier.’

‘Disguising her identity like in a Panorama documentary.’ Ash nodded. ‘Very wise.’

‘Shush. This is serious.’ She fought a smile. ‘Behave.’

‘I always behave,’ Ash said, in a low rumble that suggested exactly the opposite.

Jess’s breath quickened. ‘And stop distracting me. I’d actually love to know what you think, as a psychologist. You might be able to help.’

‘Shoot,’ Ash said, his teasing tone gone.

So Jess told him everything about Felicity – Tina – from their interactions in the shop, her longing for the mirror, then the water-feature purchase, followed by Jess’s trip to her house. They were skirting round the market, heading towards the river, and she wondered if Ash even remembered he was supposed to be taking her to a final film destination. He offered the odd comment, a couple of murmured swearwords when Jess described the state of Felicity’s house.

‘What did Wendy say?’ he asked, when she’d finished.

‘Wendy said, “hmmmm” a lot, then told me I had to give her time to think.’

‘Entirely noncommittal, then.’

‘The thing is, I’m not sure it’s really any of our business. It’s Tina’s life, and she hasn’t asked for help. She didn’t want to talk about it when I tried to bring it up while I was there.’

Ash took a few moments to reply. ‘It could be that her inviting you to her house, to deliver this item, was her way of asking for help. You said she was quite strange about it – specific about the time and date?’

Jess nodded.

‘She would obviously have known that you’d see how she’s living, so it might have been her first attempt at trying to do something about it.’ He sipped his coffee, his brows furrowed. ‘The main thing is to keep the dialogue going, keep talking to her, show her that she can trust you. That way, she might get to the point where she wants to bring it up herself.’

‘What if she doesn’t come into the shop again? What if she panics?’

Ash shook his head. ‘If you go down the what-ifs path, you’ll send yourself round the bend. Give it a couple of weeks, and if she hasn’t been into the shop again, we’ll rethink. Maybe plan a follow-up visit to see how the water feature’s working. It’s got moving parts, so it’s not a totally stupid idea.’

‘It would definitely be harder if she’d bought a statue,’ Jess agreed. ‘Although, if it had been one of the hares, I could have done a welfare check to make sure it hadn’t murdered her.’

Ash’s laughter burst out of him. ‘I’m going to have to examine those hares properly. I’m always so keen to see you, I forget that the shop exists.’

‘Oh.’ Jess’s cheeks burned. ‘It’s so kind of you to help, with Tina.I feel better now I’ve shared it with you: it’s like a weight’s been lifted.’ She hadn’t missed that he’d said we’ll rethink. He’d made it sound like it was theirproblem, not just hers.

‘I’ll always help, if I can.’

Jess glanced at him, and all her nerve endings tingled to life. Their laughter had faded, and even though they were down by the river, the Cutty Sark a proud silhouette behind Ash, the space busy with visitors, Jess felt like it was just the two of them. She wanted to step closer to him, to find another way to orchestrate herself into his arms.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

‘Of course,’ Ash whispered. Then he looked around him, as if he’d forgotten where they were, and cleared his throat. ‘Here we are.’

‘The final stop on your film tour?’

‘I’ve saved the best until last.’ Ash strode over to the small, red-brick tower with the glass-domed roof.

Jess followed, intrigued. ‘Who used the foot tunnelin a film?’

It was a historic piece of Greenwich architecture, joining the south and north banks of the river, and was used every day by pedestrians and cyclists. But while Jess appreciated its purpose, and the engineering that must have gone into it, it wasn’t her favourite place. It was cold and bleak, and she wouldn’t even think about using it at night. Then she remembered what Ash had said by the naval college. ‘Ah. A horror film.’

‘A little-known zombie film called Twenty-Eight Days Later.’

Jess grimaced. ‘Are you going to go down into the tunnel and chase people as if you were a zombie? Because I’d have to film that.’

Ash laughed. ‘It would make a grand finale for my tour. Has Hollywood done a zombie in a trilby?’

‘I don’t know, but I do know the tunnel is supposed to be haunted. People see ghostly Victorian figures, rather than flesh-eating zombies.’

‘Are you a secret ghost hunter?’ Ash asked. ‘There’s a lot of important history around here. Maybe I should have done a ghost walk instead.’

‘Maybe,’ Jess murmured, but she didn’t want to go into the tunnel, to get submerged in the gloom.

A tourist boat was gliding serenely down the grey river, and an aeroplane powered overhead on its way to City Airport. ‘Do you know what’s been missing on your tour?’ she asked.

‘What’s that?’ Ash had stepped closer, and it didn’t look like he had any intention of taking the stairs that led into the tunnel either.

‘A kissing scene,’ Jess said, her heart lodged in her throat. ‘We’ve had sparkling balls and superhero fights and Muppets and zombies, but Greenwich is romantic, too. Why aren’t there any kissing scenes on your tour?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ash said. ‘Maybe I didn’t visit the right websites. Maybe—’

‘We could create one of our own?’ Jess finished.

A smile lifted Ash’s lips. ‘That would be a better grand finale. And I’ve been thinking about last week, on the heath. I know it was just a peck, but—’

‘Me too,’ she cut in, elation and relief shortening her breath. ‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot, too.’

‘You can live off happy memories all week,’ he murmured.

Jess huffed out a laugh. ‘Ash Faulkner, are you inventing more quotes for me? I’m going to have to start paying you commission.’

‘One kiss is worth a thousand words,’ he whispered.

‘Sometimes the anticipation is better than the reality,’ she said, feeling a flicker of uncertainty, now that she’d set this in motion.

Ash’s soft expression hardened into intent, into something that looked a lot like desire. ‘Let’s see if I can prove you wrong with that one.’

He tipped her cap back, the cool air rushing to her forehead, and with his other hand, adjusted his own hat. Jess thought how ridiculous this was: their silly hats, Ash using children in a buggy to represent a scene from a show he might or might not have watched; but the truth was she’d loved every single, stupid minute, had thought about nothing but Ash and what he was telling her, what was coming next and how much she was laughing, and then he leaned forward, his fingers stroking down her arm, and pressed his mouth against hers.

He tasted of coffee and certainty, and Jess, so overcome by how good he felt, how the sensation of his lips and his hands on her body woke it up in ways she hadn’t thought about for eons, let her mind empty. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closed the gap he had left between them, and felt his palms press into her lower back.

They were cinched tight, the kiss slow and exploring, and Jess thought that if he let go of her now, she wouldn’t be able to stay upright. She felt as if Ash had some kind of power over her, some fundamental element within him that she was unable to resist. Spending time with him had been bad enough, but now she knew what he felt like pressed against her – all those important bits of him; lips and fingers, the jut of his hips – she was worried she wouldn’t be able to let him go.

An hour, she thought frantically, as he pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a dazed, happy incredulity that she knew she was mirroring, was soon going to feel like nowhere near enough.