Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
At first, Jess hadn’t believed that a violin and a guitar could work in harmony. In her mind it had always sounded discordant, the bringing together of Lola’s melodious strings and the electrical twang of Spade’s Fender. The first video had swayed her – Lola had worked her magic with the composition, and Jess had been impressed – but now, sitting on a bench outside the pub in the corner of the market, their latest live performance was shattering all her assumptions like a boot through a pane of glass.
‘Oh my God,’squealed Susie, right in Jess’s ear. ‘I can feel it in my bones!’
Jess nodded vigorously. She didn’t want to talk; she wanted to listen.
Spade was wearing a glittery silver baseball cap and a blue velvet jacket, and Lola had her blonde hair tied back in a bun, a navy jacket with large brass buttons over her Where the Wild Things Are T-shirt, and a look of serene concentration on her face. Jess had always known her friend was talented, and had never tired of listening to her, even when she’d been part of a distinctly mediocre school orchestra. Lola had stood out, her confidence and skill palpable, treating the violin like an extension of her body and soul.
But here, standing in a small space between the picnic benches and the market stalls, with a crowd steadily gathering, she and Spade were a force of nature. Jess was sorry she’d suggested the Market Misfits – a name which they had told her they loved – because it didn’t seem right: they were musical magicians; melodious maestros. Misfits didn’t do them justice.
Lola’s composition soared to its crescendo, the sound so beautiful Jess found herself holding her breath, then the violin and guitar came tumbling down together, a thunderous finale of strings. Lola raised her bow in triumph as the final note reverberated through the market.
There was a beat of pure, stunned silence, then the applause and cheers erupted, Jess clapping above her head, Kirsty bouncing up and down from her position on one of the tables. Spade’s cameraman friend Deano was filming on his phone, even though this was a trial run.
‘If that was the practice,’ Jess said, leaning over the table so the others could hear her over the whoops, ‘then TikTok is going to have a meltdown.’
‘One hundred thousand views doesn’t seem entirely out of reach,’ Roger agreed.
‘It is amazing,’ Enzo added quietly, and Jess wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was: if the Misfits used their videos to promote the group’s fundraising ideas, then surely, soon, he would be able tostop worrying. Since their meeting on Tuesday, Jess had added five new print designs to her Etsy shop, and they were selling well – without any more marketing than she usually did. At this rate she would have to get Lola or Kirsty to come round and help her pack up orders.
The musicians put away their instruments, while customers asked them questions and showered them with praise. Eventually they extracted themselves, and Lola slid onto the bench next to Jess and accepted a coffee, her smile tinged with incredulity at all the attention. Spade sat opposite and Roger handed him a pint. It was a bright day, the light drizzle Jess had woken up to whisked off elsewhere, the intense blue sky peppered with fuzzy white clouds visible through the glass roof of the market.
‘You’re a genius, Lola,’ Kirsty said. ‘And you’re both crazy talented.’
‘When are you filming the final take?’ Susie asked.
‘After this,’ Lola said. ‘I just need to work out who’s going to be in the background, and get any additional release forms signed.’ She lifted a thin cardboard folder out of her battered leather satchel.
There were murmurs of assent round the table, and Jess said, ‘Sounds good.’ But she couldn’t stop her gaze wandering, looking for a familiar face, a head of thick dark hair in the crowd. Wendy had pushed her out of the door at twenty to twelve, clearly having had enough of her shifting things aimlessly around on the shelves and whistling tunelessly.
‘So,’ Lola said, ‘the plan is that we put up the second video today. I’ve changed my account name to the Market Misfits, so we won’t lose momentum from the first video. The market background as before, but we’ll perform most of it in front of Enzo’s stall.’
‘We could sliiiiiide aside at the end.’ Spade stretched his arms out wide.
‘Which will set things up nicely for our next performance.’ Lola grinned, cradling her mug in both hands.
‘Which is?’ Roger was the first to crack, unable to hold Lola’s deliberate pause for long.
‘In No Vase Like Home,’ she said. ‘When Jess’s motivational prints are on display.’
Jess squirmed on the bench as everyone looked at her. She resisted the urge to put her hands over her eyes.
‘You’ve actually told Wendy, then?’ Kirsty asked. ‘That’s great. You should be putting your stuff out there.’
‘I’m going to tell her,’ Jess corrected. ‘Today. After...’ After she’d had her nerves soothed by Ash, was what she was thinking. She didn’t say it. ‘Hopefully she’ll let me stock a few, and the money we raise can go towards Enzo’s rent.’
Enzo fiddled with the top button of his shirt. ‘I do not know if I am comfortable with this.’
‘Why not?’ Jess asked gently. ‘You’re not asking people to give you handouts. We – your friends – are raising it legitimately. It isn’t even fundraising, it’s just straight-up selling.’
‘But the profits should be going to you, and to Wendy.’
‘This is what I want,’ Jess said. ‘And I’d bet you anything – a million pounds – that Wendy will feel the same.’ Her pulse raced every time she thought about speaking to her boss, asking to bring her frivolous designs into the real, physical world of No Vase Like Home.
‘I am almost out of stock,’ Enzo said. ‘Carolina is still not well enough to work, and if I have nothing to sell, then having rent money will make no difference.’
There was a beat of silence, and a rowdy hen party clattered past, the women wearing tight dresses in bold colours and gold feather boas.
‘Oh Enzo,’ Susie said, ‘I’m so sorry.’ She’d brought one of her fluffy ducklings with her, and was kneading it like a stress toy.
‘That’s raw, man,’ Spade added quietly.
‘There has to be something we can do.’ Kirsty sent her wide-eyed gaze around the table.
Enzo stirred his tea. ‘My wife’s sister, Sofia, can make the jewellery too: they learnt together, growing up. But she has three children, and works as a supply teacher four days a week. I can’t ask her to reduce her hours, or to pay for childcare, just to help us.’
‘She’s family, though. Surely she would want to help out?’ Susie squeezed the head of her duckling so tightly that Jess winced.
‘There’s a difference between wanting to and being able to.’ Spade shrugged. ‘The cost of living’s through the roof right now.’
‘So if we could raise enough money for you to pay Sofia, then she could reduce her school hours and make some pieces for you to sell?’ Jess said.
‘She could.’ Enzo rubbed his eyes. ‘I feel as if I should be doing it, that I should have got Carolina to teach me, but she has the fingers... the dexterity. I have always been in charge of the business side of things.’
‘You can’t do everything, Enzo.’ Lola covered his hand with hers. ‘And even if you could, there aren’t that many hours in the day.’
‘I’ve already sold some of my new designs online,’ Jess told him, her cheeks heating. She felt like an intruder, because all these people were so much more creative than she was, making a living from their work. ‘If Wendy lets me display some in the shop, and Lola and Spade do their TikTok thing, then we might be able to raise enough for you to offer Sofia some work.’
‘It’s a good plan,’ Kirsty said quietly.
‘We’ve got to give it a shot.’ Spade ruffled Enzo’s hair. ‘We’re here for you, dude.’
There were solemn nods around the table, and Enzo gave them a weak smile. Jess knew he was embarrassed, but what else could he do? He couldn’t risk losing his livelihood at a time when they were most in need of support. If Carolina’s arthritis was too bad, then getting Sofia to make their traditional jewellery until she had a working treatment plan in place was their best bet.
‘Bloody hell, have I stumbled on a wake?’
Jess’s head shot up, and despite the sombre mood she grinned and bounced out of her seat. Ash looked as casual as she’d ever seen him, in a Pop Art T-shirt and faded jeans. His forearms were tanned, and his hair looked wind-ruffled, as if he’d stood on the deck of the Clipper for the entire journey.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘Happy Sunday.’
‘Happy Sunday.’ Ash came round the table and squeezed her arm, then brushed his lips over her cheek. ‘Hey, everyone.’
There was a chorus of hellos, and Jess realised that he knew them all – apart from Lola.
‘Ash, this is my best friend, Lola. Lola, this is Ash.’
‘Hello, Ash.’ Lola stood and gave his hand a firm shake. ‘Jess has told me a whole lot about you.’
‘You, too,’ Ash said. ‘I’m glad I found you: I didn’t realise this was our activity for today.’
‘I asked Wendy to send you here when you got to the shop. Lola and Spade are planning a new TikTok video, and we’re going to... uhm, I’m going to see if Wendy will let me sell some of my prints in the shop, to help Enzo out.’
It had been after their kite-flying on the heath, as they’d been walking back to the market, that she’d told Ash about Lola’s music, and the way her plans had expanded once Spade had got involved and Enzo’s predicament had become clear.
‘You’re going to sell your work in the shop?’ His face lit up. ‘Jess, that’s brilliant.’
‘Only if Wendy agrees to it.’
‘Of course she will,’ he said. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘You can sign a release form, in case your pretty face ends up in one of our videos and we start getting international acclaim.’ Lola waggled a piece of paper at Ash.
He took it with a rueful grin. ‘Of course. Wouldn’t want me suing you for a cut when you get your five-album record deal.’
Lola laughed. ‘He’s smart, your man.’
Jess felt her cheeks flame. ‘We’re nearly done here,’ she said to Ash. ‘You don’t mind?’
His gaze softened, his voice low when he said, ‘As long as I’m with you, I don’t mind what we do.’ Then, to the whole table, ‘Anyone want a drink? I could do with a coffee.’
‘Treat yourself, get a beer.’ Spade pointed at the pub. ‘They do a great local ale.’
Ash glanced at his watch. ‘Better not, but I’m happy to get one for anyone else.’ He collected tea orders from Susie and Kirsty, and went inside the pub.
‘OK,’ Lola murmured to Jess while Spade regaled the others with a story about a brewery tour that had got out of hand, ‘you didn’ttell me he was utterly gorgeous.’
‘I thought it would be better for you to see for yourself,’ Jess said, her insides fluttering.
‘Are you going to take it outside your hour, like we talked about?’
‘At the very least, I’m going to get his number.’ There had been so many tiny, inconsequential things Jess had wanted to tell him over the last week, and not being able to had felt like an emotional strait-jacket. She was on the verge of having to start a Dear Ash journal.
He returned with the drinks and sat next to her, sliding his long legs over the bench.
‘Hey.’ She turned towards him.
‘Hello.’ He smiled. ‘Good week?’
‘It’s been full of meetings,’ she said. ‘This is our second in six days, so I’m worn out.’
Ash laughed. ‘That’s far too many meetings. What about—’
‘Felicity!’ Jess blurted, cutting Ash off. The other woman had appeared behind Spade and Kirsty.
‘Hello, my dears,’ she said. ‘This looks like fun.’
‘Come and sit down, Felicity,’ Susie said. ‘We’re helping Enzo out, having a nice chat. You should join us.’
‘Oh, I...’ Felicity clutched the collar of her jacket.
Jess tried to quell her panic. It wasn’t surprising that the other traders knew her; it made sense that Felicity didn’t just visit No Vase Like Home when she came here. But the confirmation made Jess nervous because of what she knew, and now here was Ash – who she’d told everything to – and Felicity in the same place. But what could she do? She didn’t want to leave her out. ‘We’d love you to join us,’ she said firmly.
Spade patted the bench next to him. ‘I’ve seen you around. Are you another market ghoul, like me and Ash?’
‘A ghoul?’ Felicity looked shocked.
‘We haunt the market,’ Ash explained. ‘Because it’s more interesting than our own lives.’
‘There is nothing ghoulish about me,’ Felicity said, lifting her skirt to step over the bench. ‘I would much prefer to be a wraith. Hello, everyone. I know most of you, but not all.’ Shesmiled and gave Jess a little nod. Spade jumped up and went inside the pub without asking her what she wanted.
‘Do you want to be in our TikTok video, Felicity?’ Lola asked. ‘We’re shooting it here in a little while. We need people in the background, to show the market off to its full potential. Would you be up for it?’
‘I’d love to be a part of it,’ Felicity said. ‘As long as you allow me to do a little touching up beforehand.’ She patted her perfect bob, and Jess marvelled again at her poise and elegance here, how at odds it was with the chaos of her house. But she could see a long dark smudge on Felicity’s peach shirt, visible beneath her jacket when she shifted in her seat.
Jess glanced at Ash, and saw that he was frowning. He’d worked it out already?
‘Jessica,’ Felicity said, once Spade had placed a cup of Earl Grey tea reverently in front of her, ‘I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind another little visit to my house?’
Jess froze. Below the table, she put her hand on Ash’s thigh. It felt bold, but she had to convey, somehow, that he shouldn’t say anything. She had to treat Felicity like a rabbit frozen in headlights, so they could tiptoe in slowly and catch her, not let her run off into the darkness where she’d be alone.
‘Of course,’ she said. Ash pressed his warm hand over hers, slid his fingers between hers, and it felt equal parts reassuring and incendiary, so she had to concentrate extra hard on the conversation. ‘When would you like me to come round? Is everything all right with the, uh...?’
‘The water feature is marvellous,’ Felicity said. ‘Twiggy, Bond and Artemis love it. They paw at the stream, and have started to drink from there rather than their water bowls.’
‘Your cats,’ Jess said.
‘My companions,’ Felicity corrected. ‘Since being on my own, they’re invaluable to me.’
‘I bet.’ Jess’s voice came out scratchy.
How many cats would she end up having in her future, solitary life? She’d always pictured being by the seaside, running her own gift shop, selling trinkets for families to adorn their homes with. But the picture had changed recently, and in the living room of her imagined house, instead of a cosy sofa and polished coffee table, there were piles of newspapers, old towels, broken Tupperware boxes. Her dream was slowly morphing into a nightmare, and the thought of not helping Felicity made her feel frantic.
‘But there are some things they’re unable to do,’ Felicity went on, ‘so I wondered if you might help me decide where... where I could put that mirror, should I end up buying it from No Vase Like Home?’
Jess sucked in a breath. This, surely, was her asking for help.
‘I love a frothy mirror,’ Spade said. ‘The snazzier the frame, the better.’
‘This one is intricate and beautiful,’ Felicity told him. ‘It’s unlike anything else I’ve seen. But I am hopeless at knowing where to place things, and Jess is the expert.’
‘Oh, I don’t know...’ Jess started, and Ash squeezed her hand. ‘But of course, I’d love to help you decide.’
‘You can come too, Ash, if you’d like.’ Felicity gave him a warm smile. ‘If you’re at that inseparable stage.’
‘We’re not—’
‘You look super cute together,’ Susie said, holding the fluffy duckling against her chest.
Jess swallowed. ‘It’s just that—’
‘I’m afraid I can only get down here on Sundays,’ Ash said. ‘And only for this hour: I’m bookended either side. Although, for a special occasion, I could get here a little earlier.’
‘And I would be a special occasion?’ Felicity asked.
Ash’s laugh was so warm that Jess wanted to press herself against him and feel it rumble through his chest and into hers. ‘You and Jess don’t need my help with the mirror – she’s the expert, as you say, and it’s your home – but if you’re inviting me, I won’t say no.’
‘Well I... I am!’ Felicity said, and Jess watched her expression go from pleased, to horrified, to uncertain in the space of a few seconds. She must know what she was opening herself up to, but maybe she’d found the courage to tackle it. And Jess knew the impression Ash could have on people, because she’d fallen under his spell, too.
‘That’s settled, then,’ she said.
‘Next Sunday,’ Felicity confirmed. ‘Around eleven?’
‘I could do eleven,’ Ash said. ‘Count me in.’
By the time the meeting had broken up, they had fifteen minutes left. Lola gathered up the completed release forms and shot Jess an amused glance as Ash took her hand and dragged her away, to the narrow alley that led from the market to the busy roar of Nelson Street.
‘Felicity trusts you,’ Jess said, as he pulled her against him, even though it was one o’clock on a Sunday afternoon and their alleyway was a popular cut-through. ‘It took her two seconds to realise you were a good person.’
‘Well, I’m glad,’ he said. ‘Felicity’s your friend “Tina”, obviously.’
‘Was it the mention of the water feature that gave it away?’ Jess raised her eyebrows.
Ash laughed. ‘I’m a veritable Sherlock,’ he murmured, as he lowered his head. ‘This feels way too short.’
‘I’m sorry, it was out of my hands. I tried to get them to have their meeting at any other time, and in the end there wasn’t even much to do. You missed Lola and Spade’s practice run, which was insane.’
‘You don’t need to apologise,’ Ash said. ‘And I saw their first video: I downloaded TikTok specially. It’s great that you’re going to sell your prints in the shop.’
Jess groaned. ‘Is it, though? My silly side hustle, it’s—’
‘Not silly,’ Ash said. ‘You know it isn’t. Come on, Jess. Don’t underestimate yourself.’
‘So you... you’d like one, then?’
He frowned. ‘Like one what?’
She reached into her handbag and took out the item that had been sitting there all morning, almost burning a hole through the leather. It was wrapped in her favourite tissue paper fromthe shop: blue with little gold clocks on it. She handed it to him.
‘What’s this?’
Jess laughed. ‘Open it and you’ll see.’
She watched him unwrap the tissue paper, watched his brows rise, his mouth fall open as he revealed the print, secured in a chunky white frame. ‘We all have superpowers, you just need to believe in yourself to discover yours,’ he read out. ‘Jess, this is—’
‘I went back to the heath,’ she told him. ‘I waited for a windy day, and there was someone else flying a kite, so the photo – it’s not our kite, but it’s similar.’ It was another diamond, the panels gold, green and red, its shimmery fabric glowing. It looked, almost, like a superhero costume. She’d put the text next to it, over the blue sky, but matched the font colours to the kite. The design was one of her boldest, the words were Ash’s, and it was selling well online, already making money for Enzo.
‘You made this for me?’ he asked.
‘I did,’ she said. ‘I’ll put it in the shop, too. I hope you don’t mind, but—’
‘Of course I don’t.’ Ash laughed. ‘Thank you. I love it. I’m going to put it up at home, and it’ll always remind me of you. Of that day on the heath.’ There was something sad about his smile, and Jess had the urge to push; to get him to open up.
‘You have to go to your next appointment in a bit?’ she asked.
‘Yeah.’ He exhaled.
‘You’re not looking forward to it?’
‘It’s not a whole lot of fun,’ he admitted.
‘So what—’
‘But I’m glad we get this time, now. Before I have to go.’
Jess paused. The subject change had been obvious, but they’d had so little time on their own, and she didn’t want to ruin their goodbye. ‘And next week,’ she said instead, ‘we’ll have two whole hours.’ She felt giddy at the thought. ‘Though we won’t be alone, and it’s going to be challenging, helping Felicity face her demons.’ She leaned into him, and he brought his arm around her waist. ‘You didn’t have to offer to help.’
‘Felicity invited me,’ Ash said, his mouth close to hers. ‘And I don’t want youto have to do it alone. If we can work together to make things easier for her, then why not? And, like I said earlier, I don’t mind what we’re doing, as long as I get to spend time with you.’
Jess’s throat squeezed. ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice that Felicity got you to sacrifice your coffee date with Mack, while I haven’t been able to.’
Ash grinned. ‘I’m testing the boundaries. I can see Mack any evening after work, whereas this time in Greenwich – it’s only on a Sunday. An hour isn’t enough any more. Not because of Felicity, but because of you.’
‘So you’re saying,’ Jess said, as two small boys flew through the alley on scooters, followed by their jogging, harassed-looking dad, ‘that you would have given me two hours next weekend whatever?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’ Ash cupped her face, his touch delicate, fingers brushing her cheek. His kiss, when it came, made her feel weightless and beautiful.
‘I need your number,’ he said, pulling back an inch. ‘I can’t believe I don’t have it already.’
Jess laughed. ‘I was thinking the same.’
They swapped phones, typed in their numbers, then handed them back with the new, precious information safely stored.
‘So many boundaries broken,’ Ash said.
‘So many,’ Jess agreed. ‘Maybe one day you’ll be able to stay with me past one o’clock.’ She smiled up at him, and while Ash returned it, there was something in his grey eyes, a haunted look, that echoed what he’d told her a moment ago. It’s not a whole lot of fun.
‘Maybe,’ he murmured. ‘But this week, I have to go.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, if—’
‘Don’t apologise.’ He brushed her hair behind her ear. ‘Please. Just leave me with another kiss?’
‘Not a total hardship,’ Jess said, trying to take them back to light and flirtatious, to dissolve the black cloud that had fallen over them.
Their goodbye kiss started out gentle, then Ash slid his fingers into her hair, and she twisted hers in his T-shirt,
and it was only a loud ‘harrumph’ that broke them apart, both of them flushing under the glare of the sturdy older woman with a shopping trolley, who had stopped in front of them as if they were blocking the entire alleyway.
‘Sorry,’ Jess murmured.
‘Please.’ Ash pressed himself against the wall and gestured for her to go past them.
The woman kept her eyes trained on them as she walked slowly past, the wheels of her tartan trolley squeaking painfully.
Once she had gone, they dissolved into laughter, Ash pressing his head into Jess’s neck, his warm breath dampening the collar of her dress.
‘We should make it our aim to appal old ladies as often as possible,’ she said.
‘For as long as possible,’ Ash added.
‘Agreed.’ His words made her pulse dance unsteadily in her throat.
‘Same time next week?’
‘Nope,’ she replied gleefully. ‘An hour earlier than usual.’
‘Of course!’ He laughed. ‘Your kiss wiped my mind clear.’
‘Exactly my plan.’ Jess blew him a final one to send him on his way.
At the end of the alley, he turned and held up her print, which he’d carefully wrapped up again. ‘Thank you for this.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she called, and watched him turn right and disappear from view.
Jess walked back into the market high on desire, her mind still scrambled by their unexpectedly earth-shattering kiss. Most of the other traders had gone back to their stalls, and Lola and Spade had their instruments out and their heads close together, debating something with Enzo, while Deano set up his large, professional-looking camera on a sturdy tripod.
Other people were sitting at the picnic tables outside the pub, full pints in front of them, and Jess’s eyes were drawn to the blackboard next to the door, the scratchy chalk writing in pink and blue, the penmanship slightly slanted.
Written at the top, in capitals, were the words ‘HAPPY HOUR!’ Beneath it, instead of the deals for two-for-one cocktails and a pint and a chaser for ￡7, she wanted to write Jess Peacock and Ash Faulkner, because that was exactly what she had with him. A time of the week she looked forward to, where she could feel lighter and less inhibited, drunk on laughter and lust, her whole body flushed with enjoyment. Being with Ash on Sunday mornings – that was her happy hour. She wouldn’t replace it for all the Espresso Martinis in the world.