Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
The sun shone all day on Friday, keeping the market, and No Vase Like Home, busier than usual. At four o’clock, the light was more intense than it had been at midday, and Ash was even more beautiful in the golden glow of an afternoon that was tripping towards evening, his skin tanned, threads of amber in his brown hair. He was wearing jeans, and a deep blue shirt in a fabric that looked soft enough to sink into. His hands were empty.
‘I thought we could get a drink after,’ he said, and she was pleased that his eyes swept up and down her body, and that there was a flicker of desire she recognised, because she was feeling it, too. She was wearing a red dress with a puffin print, and the curls she’d put in her hair that morning had mostly stayed in place.
‘After what?’ she asked.
‘After we’ve been where we’re going.’
She grinned. ‘Enlightening.’
‘It’s a surprise.’
‘I can’t wait.’
‘You don’t have to.’ He gestured to the shelf adorned with clocks. ‘You said you could get off at four.’
‘Before she’d even asked me!’ Wendy called from the storeroom.
Ash’s eyes widened. ‘You mean—’
‘It’s fine,’ Jess cut in. ‘I would have texted you if she’d said no.’
She hoisted her bag over her shoulder as they left the shop, emerging into a market with the frisson of almost-drink-o’clock, nearly at the end of its countdown to the weekend. The voices and laughter were boisterous, Olga showing a customer her Indiana Jones-style hats, Roger holding up one of his more expensive trinkets for another – a porcelain scene of a country house with a large oak tree outside, tiny porcelain people standing in front of the tiny front door.
Without his customary coffees, Ash had his hands deep in his jeans pockets, and Jess had the absurd thought that if he tripped, she would have to catch him.
‘So, Friday,’ she said unnecessarily. ‘Did it feel weird?’
‘Coming here?’ he asked.
She nodded.
‘I thought it would, but the journey has become like muscle memory. Except... it’s also the opposite.’ They stopped at the lights on Romney Road.
‘The opposite how?’
‘I always remember every step of it,’ he explained. ‘You know how you can take a familiar journey and your mind drifts, so you reach your destination without really noticing it? It’s easy to do on public transport, but I can also do it driving to see Mum or a friend, which is scary.’
‘I often don’t remember my walk to work,’ Jess said, ‘but that’s only ten minutes.’
‘Exactly. But with my trips here, whether I take the train or the boat, it’s as if I’m hyper-aware the entire time.’
‘Why is that, do you think?’ They were threading through groups of people on the busy pavement, grand buildings on either side of them.
‘Because I have stronger emotions associated with this place than I do with work, I guess.’
‘And why is that,do you think?’ She glanced at him, expecting him to be smirking – that he’d been referring to her, and their kisses – but he looked anxious. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘The thing after.’
‘Not just that,’ Ash said hurriedly. ‘But... anyway. It didn’t feel weird coming here today, it just felt good. I’ve been looking forward to all this time with you.’ He gestured to the right, and Jess walked through the gate.
‘The Queen’s House? Are you going to reenact an entire episode of Bridgerton for me this time?’
‘Did you know there’s a famous ghost here?’
‘One photo, taken in the Sixties.’ Jess laughed. ‘Is this your plan?’
Ash looked affronted. ‘I thought we could investigate the Tulip Stairs.’
‘For...’ she looked at her watch. ‘Forty-five minutes?’
‘A quick tour, then I’ll take you for dinner.’
‘Zombie tunnels, ghostly staircases.’ She shook her head. ‘Do I need to worry about you, Ash?’
‘And where have you been taking me for the last four weeks? Is that really date material?’ He brushed his hand down her back, leading her along the path to the beautiful white house. Greenwich park rose up behind it, visible in slices through the colonnades on either side. The grass was impossibly green, thesky blue with white clouds scudding through it. The rosy sun kissed the white stonework and turned it peachy pink, and the whole thing was glorious. Ash, most of all, with his dark hair and late-in-the-day stubble.
‘We’ve really helped Felicity.’ She didn’t regret it, but she had often wondered what they could have been doing if it was just the two of them; how much more they would know each other by now.
‘I’m joking,’ Ash said, gesturing for her to go first down the stairs that led into the basement, then up into the main house.
Inside, visitors were admiring the black-and-white tiled floor in the great hall, and the famed tulip staircase rising above it, its blue, wrought-iron banister shining in the afternoon light. The whole thing was magnificent, but Jess thought it was cold. It needed twinkly lights, some soft furnishings, a few well-placed prints on the walls. A guide gestured them to the start of the tour, the first information plaque, but neither she nor Ash was interested.
‘You do realise that we’ll have to leave long before it gets dark,’ she said. ‘Our ghost-hunting efforts aren’t going to be very credible.’
‘It’s a bit... echoey.’ Ash sounded disappointed.
‘It’s all very shiny,’ Jess said, as a group of teenagers in shorts and vest tops went past them, giggling. ‘And it’s important, historically. This staircase is the first of its kind.’
‘I should have taken you to the proper Bridgerton house.’
‘The Ranger’s House? I wouldn’t have been bothered about that, either.’
Ash ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve got this all wrong.’ He looked so forlorn, Jess couldn’t bear it.
She noticed a closed doorway in the far corner of the hall, its heavy frame creating a deep alcove, the area in shadow. ‘Come on.’ She took his hand and led him to it.
‘What’s this?’ he asked, as she turned so her back was against the door. Ash hovered in front of her. ‘What are we...?’ She let go of his hand and grabbed his shirt, pulling him forwards. He smelled amazing, his aftershave smoky and delicious, and she watched his pupils dilate, the grey consumed by black as he looked down at her.
‘I’m interested in you,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t mind where we go, or what we do.’
‘Are we going to stay here until five o’clock,’ he murmured. ‘Hope nobody spots us and get ourselves locked in, so we can hunt for the ghost?’
She grinned up at him. ‘You don’t have to get back home?’
‘For who? Mack, or the cactus that lives on my windowsill? They’re mostly self-sufficient.’
‘Great,’ she whispered. ‘I wonder what the bedrooms are like here.’
‘If we really do get locked in, we can explore.’ He cupped her chin and tilted her face up, and then his lips were on hers, the kiss more gentle than usual, as if they were both aware of the evening stretching ahead of them. Jess felt every nerve ending in her body fizz to life, and she pulled him closer, biting back a moan as his body pressed so perfectly against hers.
‘This was a good idea,’ she said in between kisses, her hands sliding up his back, into the soft hair at his nape. She felt drugged, dizzy.
‘It’s a good doorway,’ he murmured.
‘I mean this,’she whispered. ‘Friday night. Seeing each other outside our hour.’
‘I think that was my idea.’
‘I’m looking forward to seeing what else you’ve got planned,’ she said.
Ash raised an eyebrow, and then kissed her so thoroughly that all her words were lost. They could have gone on for hours – Jess was getting worked up, wishing that she hadn’t started this in a fucking doorway of all places – if it hadn’t been for a very loud, very annoyed ‘Excuse me’ that echoed through the space behind them.
‘I’m not sure Henrietta Maria would have appreciated this behaviour.’ It was the guide they’d passed on their way in. ‘And we’re closing shortly.’
‘We got carried away,’ Ash said, stepping back from Jess. ‘It’s a very romantic building. Henrietta Maria wouldn’t have begrudged us a few stolen kisses, surely?’
‘That may well be.’ The guide hoisted his belt up, as if he was a small-town sheriff with a gun instead of a walkie-talkie. ‘But my boss will have my guts if he finds out I’ve let you engage in illicit acts in here.’
‘Hardly illicit,’ Jess said, though she couldn’t believe that she, of all people, had been caught kissing in a historical building. Ash was addling her brain.
‘Hardly appropriate, either. There are kids here, pensioners. What if one of them has a heart attack?’
‘I don’t...’ Ash started.
‘That was pretty much rhetorical,’ the guide said. ‘Go and roll about on the grass in the park. It’s a gorgeous evening, and nobody will bat an eyelid there.’
‘Understood.’ Ash took Jess’s hand and pulled her towards the exit.
‘Thanks for not arresting us!’ Jess called behind her, and Ash picked up his pace until they were out in the sunshine again.
‘So, that went well,’ he said as they walked down the path, Jess getting her hand comfortable in his, not letting go. ‘Where next on our disastrous date?’
Jess traced a finger over her lips. ‘It was hardly disastrous.’ She gave him an impish grin.
‘Let’s go and get a drink. Do you know the Trafalgar Tavern? It’s got great views of the river, apparently.’
‘Oh, I love it there,’ Jess said.
‘Excellent. I’m going to stop trying to be quirky and just aim for traditional. Let’s pretend the last half-hour never happened, that I am capable of planning a vaguely successful date with a woman I care about.’
‘I don’t think I can do that,’ Jess said, but her heart skipped at his words. ‘Didn’t you enjoy – oh, hello Margaret!’
The woman who had bought her first-ever print in No Vase Like Home was walking towards them along the pavement, and Jess added a cheery wave to her greeting.
‘Hello...’ Margaret said, then her smile fell away, replaced by confusion. ‘Ash?’
Ash’s steps faltered, then he came to an abrupt halt, dropping Jess’s hand. ‘Peggy.’
Jess looked between them. Peggy?
‘It’s good to see you,’ Margaret said. ‘Both of you. I just hadn’t...’ She laughed awkwardly. ‘Things hadn’t clicked for me. But they should have. I should have realised – the print with the kite on it!’ She shook her head. ‘But I need to be off now, anyway. Take care.’ She hurried past Jess, their shoulders brushing, and Jess got a wave of peony perfume.
Once she’d gone, Jess and Ash stared at each other in silence. Jess couldn’t work it out. Ash knew Margaret. From the place he went after seeing her on Sundays? But wasn’t she a nurse? The uniform Jess had seen her in looked like a nurse’s uniform. She wished she knew more about her – but she didn’t need to wish: she could just ask.
‘You know Margaret?’
Ash had stiffened, his curls blowing in the breeze the only soft part of him. ‘I know her as Peggy.’
‘From where?’
‘From the thing I...’ He glanced behind him, but Margaret – Peggy – had disappeared into the Friday evening crowd.
‘What is your thing?’ Jess asked. ‘Can you tell me now? I feel as if we’ve gone way beyond stolen moments of time.’
‘What about back there?’ He thumbed in the direction of the Queen’s House. ‘That doorway felt like a stolen moment.’
‘You know what I mean.’ They were in the middle of the path, people swarming around them, and Ash took her arm and pulled them to the side, against the metal fence that surrounded the grounds of the Old Royal Naval College.
He looked away from her for several long moments, his jaw tight. Then he met her gaze. ‘I don’t want to tell you.’
Jess scrunched her hands into fists. ‘Why not?’
‘Because tonight is about us.’ Ash sounded as frustrated as she felt. ‘And I don’t want that to... to infect this.’
‘Infect it?’ She laughed. ‘Are you part of a disease control study? A strain of blood poisoning that turns people into zombies to be used as weapons for the state? Are you, Ash Faulkner, part zombie? Is that why you wanted to take me into the tunnel?’
‘Don’t be flippant!’ he snapped.
‘Don’t keep things from me,’ she shot back.
He leaned against the fence. ‘This is our time, Jess. We don’t get enough as it is, and I don’t think it’s wrong of me to keep this to myself.’
She swallowed. She didn’t want this to fall apart. ‘But if tonight is about us,then don’t you think we should be sharing more of ourselves? I don’t want...’
‘What?’ His voice was softer.
‘I don’t want you to be the version of yourself that you think I need.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I want all of you, Ash. I know I have this need for self-preservation, and that I like being on my own sometimes, but I’ve opened up to you more than I have to anyone else in a long time. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me to do the same.’ She took his hand and squeezed it gently.
He huffed out a breath. ‘I am comfortable with you. I don’t hold anything back, except...’ He shook his head. ‘Look, you don’t want me to talk about this, believe me. It isn’t first-date material, and I don’t want to... to burden you with it, or the part of me you’ll get when I open the floodgates.’
‘I just said I want all of you. And I know we haven’t had much time, but tonight’s supposed to change that.’
‘It ischanging it,’Ash said. ‘The Queen’s House was a crap idea. Let’s go and get a drink in the Trafalgar, start again.’
Jess looked past him, to where the sun had fallen further, burning amber around the edges of the statuesque buildings. ‘But it’s obviously a big thing for you,’ she said. ‘I want you to trust me with it.’ Edie Peacock’s words from two years before echoed in her head. It’s hard to feel loved when you’re not wanted or needed. She wanted Ash to want her, to want to tell her.
‘I will,’ he said. ‘But not now.’
‘And Peggy?’
He shook his head. ‘Not now, Jess.’
Her chest tightened, her nose prickling with the telltale warning of impending tears. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Sorry to take up your time. Have a safe journey back.’
‘What? Jess, no!’
She was already walking away, wishing that she could get swallowed up by the crowds, become invisible just like Margaret had.
‘Jess!’ Ash was following her, calling her name, and she heard him swear when he met the same wall of tourists she had, but couldn’t get through them as quickly.
She had almost reached the market when he caught up with her, his warm hand finding hers. She had been anticipating it, but his touch made her jump, and she bashed into someone with a sharp-cornered briefcase.
‘Ow!’ She bent and rubbed her shin, but Ash didn’t let go of her hand. ‘Go away, Ash.’
‘I’m not going anywhere. Are you OK?’
‘I don’t want to do this with you.’
‘And I don’t want our first real date to be this much of a disaster. I thought I’d hit a pretty low point with the stupid ghost-hunt idea, but this is... this is so much worse.’
‘So you’ll tell me where you go on Sundays, after you’ve seen me?’
He swallowed. ‘I will, I promise. But can we – can we not do that tonight? It’s fucking miserable, and I just...’ He made a low growl in his throat. ‘I need this, us, to be stronger before I land it on you.’
‘What—’
‘But I’m not a criminal,’ he said hurriedly. ‘And I’m not already married, or with someone else. It’s family shit, and I just want to have fun with you tonight.’
She couldn’t look away from him, could see nothing but honesty in his grey eyes. He was desperate, and she knew that partly because she was, too. She didn’t want to walk away from him; not really. She just hated the low, whispering voice that said she wasn’t important enough: how could she be, if he didn’t trust her with his secrets? But he’d told her he would, in time.
‘OK,’ she said, and took his other hand.
‘OK?’ He sounded as if he didn’t believe her.
‘OK.’ She stepped closer to him.
‘God, Jess—’ He bent his head, brushed his lips over hers.
‘One day soon, if we’re not careful, we’re going to get arrested.’
‘What do you suggest?’
She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. ‘I have an idea. I hope you’re going to like it.’