The Happy Hour

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

It’s Felicity’s house sale on Saturday if you’re about. It wouldn’t be happening without you, and I know Felicity would love to see you. I would too, of course – that goes without saying. Jess. xx

The message sat on her phone, unanswered. She’d sent it on Tuesday evening, when she’d got back to her flat after seeing her parents, her stomach full of chicken fajitas that her dad had cooked with an expertise that had surprised her. The whole visit had surprised her, and it had made her think that, if she could lower her walls and be more open, then perhaps Ash could, too.

But now it was Saturday, and Braden was warming up his voice in the corner of Felicity’s living room, which was in a state of organised chaos that was entirely different to the piles of clutter Jess had been greeted with all those weeks ago. Early morning sunlight streamed in through the French doors, which had been cleaned and polished in preparation for today, highlighting the period features: the solid fireplace, the cornicing, the forget-me-not wallpaper below the dado rail.

There was brightly coloured bunting hanging above the front door, the beautiful white rose bush next to it was covered in delicately scented blooms, and the hallway was bright and welcoming, the black-and-white tiled floor –

a feature Jess hadn’t even noticed until today – uncovered and gleaming. Felicity had suggested that Kirsty bake her muffins in the kitchen, and while Jess had been concerned about the cleanliness, and whether any of the neglected appliances even worked any more, it seemed Felicity had had the oven serviced, and the whole house smelled of chocolate and vanilla, of slowly rising batter and strong, steaming coffee.

Of the cats, only Twiggy was curled up asleep on the clutter-free sofa, unconcerned that his house was about to be invaded by strangers. Bond and Artemis were nowhere in sight.

Jess rearranged the wooden boxes, trinket dishes and brass ornaments on the display next to hers, then moved to her own table. The spacious living room had four of these mini-stalls, with more in the back garden, and even though this was about selling Felicity’s unwanted possessions, she had insisted Jess had a stand of her prints, too.

There were a lot of items in this displaced, scaled-down version of the market that could make good money, as long as they had enough interest, but Roger had already agreed to help Felicity sell whatever was left over, and Jess – after Lola had planted the idea – was thinking of this more as a party, a celebration of everything Felicity had achieved. Even if nobody came, or they only made ten pounds, it was already a success.

Because of that, Jess had made an effort, wearing her black, bee-print dress, and styling her hair in tousled waves. She had done it for Felicity, and not because she believed Ash should be here – though of course he should be – or that she was holding onto a glimmer of hope that he might turn up, despite not replying to her message.

She picked up her latest design. It was a photo of the cherry trees in Greenwich Park, two neat rows standing guard either side of the wide walkway that was perfect for strolling along. Down the middle she’d added, in a bold pink font: Hanging onto things for too long will hold you back – unless you’re dangling over the edge of a cliff, in which case hold on tight! She was trying to take it to heart.

‘OK?’ Lola stopped in front of her table, violin in hand. Her blonde hair was loose around her shoulders, her eye make-up dramatic. ‘These are going to sell like hot cakes.’

‘I hope so.’ Jess forced a smile. ‘You all prepared?’

‘Yeah, just waiting for Spade to decide which of his many guitars will be in the spotlight today.’ She rolled her eyes fondly. ‘Sure you’re doing all right?’

‘Of course,’ Jess said. ‘But Ash should be here.’

‘I know he should. Have you heard from him at all?’

‘Not a peep. I know that being here, helping Felicity, wasn’t easy for him, even though he hid it most of the time.’ She’d made the connection a couple of days after their fight at her flat, the way Felicity’s ex-husband’s behaviour had mirrored Ash’s dad’s – leaving to travel the world while his family were discarded. It had made sense of the moment in Felicity’s back garden, and so many other, tiny, things: his clenched jaw, the occasional distant looks, the way his kisses, after their Sundays here, had seemed desperate, somehow.

‘I am very sorry Ash isn’t here.’ Jess jumped. She hadn’t noticed Felicity come up behind her. ‘I wouldn’t have got here without him, or you. Or some other people.’ She gestured at Spade, dressed in leather trousers and a Garfield T-shirt, his chosen guitar a glittering red. ‘But it’s still early, and you shouldn’t give up hope.’

Jess nodded, her eyes darting to the doorway into the hall.

‘You both need to have one of Kirsty’s muffins before they all go,’ Felicity went on, holding out a plate. ‘These are bacon and maple syrup, and they taste as divine as they smell.’ She forced Jess and Lola to each take one, then sashayed through her living room, talking to everyone who had turned up to support her.

‘She’s amazing,’ Lola murmured.

‘The most amazing,’ Jess agreed, and took a huge bite of her muffin. Maybe if she ate enough of them, she would stop feeling quite so hollow.

An hour later, and there were a few strangers milling about, browsing the items for sale, eating muffins and drinking coffee from mismatched mugs, while the Misfits played a surprisingly mellow set. Roger was standing at the large table in the bay window, in charge of Felicity’s considerable collection of jewellery, and was fielding the most interest from visitors.

‘The problem,’ Susie said, ‘is that TikTok is international. You can’t really focus promotion on a particular location, so even if a hundred thousand people saw the promo about today, not many of them will be close enough to come.’

‘True,’ Jess said. ‘But I don’t think Felicity was expecting to be swamped. This is more cathartic for her than anything. And it’s good for us, being here all together.’

‘Let loose from the market,’ Susie said with a smile. ‘I’m in charge of the blanket collection, and I already know that I’m going to end up buying whatever’s left. I can use them in my new Better Babies designs.’

Jess narrowed her eyes at Felicity, who was on the other side of the room, laughing at something Olga was saying. ‘I wonder why she put you in charge of the soft furnishings.’

Susie gasped. ‘You don’t think—’

‘I do,’ Jess said. ‘Roger’s in charge of the jewellery, and I noticed a few elegant watches on that table. If there are no takers, then...’

‘That sly old feline,’ Susie said, with a mixture of annoyance and respect that nearly dragged a laugh out of Jess. She went back to her blankets, and Jess smiled as a young couple approached her table.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘See anything you fancy?’

The woman was blonde and smiling, and the man was handsome, with eyes that were a very particular shade of blue.

‘Let’s just have a look,’ the woman said. ‘Did you make these?’

‘I did. I sell them in a shop in the market, and online too. Today is a special sale.’

‘I’d quite like one of everything,’ the woman said with a laugh. ‘My parents live in Blackheath, and Jake and I are moving into a new flat, so we’re looking for some things to decorate it with.’

‘A few things,’ the man – Jake – added. ‘It’s about the size of this room, not the whole house. Hester’s getting a bit carried away.’

‘It’s more space than we had in New York.’ Hester gave Jake an adoring gaze that made Jess’s stomach twist with envy. ‘And look at this! Have you ever seen anything more perfect?’ She held up a frame, and Jess thought that the universe was really laughing at her now, because it was one of Ash’s quotes – the same one Peggy had bought that day in the shop. Flying isn’t as hard as it looks, just make sure a part of you stays tethered to the ground.

Jake laughed loudly, and a couple of people turned to look at him. ‘Flying isn’t as hard as it looks,’ he repeated. ‘You’re right: this has to go up on our wall.’ He took his wallet out, handed Jess a ten-pound note, then kissed Hester on the lips.

Jess busied herself wrapping the frame, and tried not to think about the very real possibility that she would never get to kiss Ash again.

When the band took a breather, Lola, Braden and Spade congregated at Jess’s table, drinking coffee and orange juice, and dissecting their set. Spade saw something over Jess’s shoulder, and his grin split his face.

‘My dudes,’ he said, as Enzo and Carolina came to join them. Enzo’s wife looked just the same as Jess remembered her, except that her dark hair was cut into a bob, tucked chicly behind her ears. Another woman, slightly shorter and slimmer than Carolina, could only be her sister.

‘Enzo, Carolina, hi,’ Jess said. ‘And you must be Sofia. It’s so lovely to meet you.’

‘You too.’ Sofia gave them all a shy wave.

‘Lovely Jess!’ Carolina wrapped her in a gentle, vanilla-scented hug.

‘And this is Lola,’ Jess said. ‘And Spade and Braden. They’re the Market Misfits.’

‘We can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done,’ Carolina said. ‘Sofia has admitted that she prefers making jewellery to organising teenagers. Our business of two is now a business of three.’

‘My hands were made for delicate work.’ Sofia waggled her long, thin fingers. ‘Sometimes the worst situations lead you in the right direction, eh?’

‘Absolutely,’ Lola said. ‘I’m going to buy a necklace to celebrate. Which pieces have you enjoyed making the most?’ As they talked, Enzo flashed Jess a carefree smile. It was the happiest she could remember seeing him.

They called time on the sale at three o’clock, when there hadn’t been any visitors through the door for half an hour.

‘Not too bad,’ Felicity said, surveying what was left. ‘Roger and I will sell the rest of the jewellery, then I’ve got a home clearance man coming round to give me a price for everything else I don’t want. I think he’s under the impression that Mrs Felicity Chester is deceased, and he’s coming to rake over her possessions.’

Susie looked aghast. ‘That’s horrible.’

‘It’s true, in a way,’ Felicity said. ‘The old Felicity Chester is gone, replaced by a shiny new version.’

‘I love both versions,’ Spade said, slinging his arm around her shoulder, his headlock-hug much more gentle than usual. ‘But this one has space for my guitar collection.’

‘We’re going to raise a toast,’ Wendy said, carrying a tray of champagne flutes into the living room.

‘Jess, what are you doing over there?’ Lola called.

‘Nothing.’ Jess had been standing in the bay window for the last half-hour, when it was clear she’d sold all the prints she was going to. She was sure that Lola, and probably every single person in that room – including all three cats, because Artemis and Bond had emerged at some point and joined Twiggy on the sofa – knew what she was doing there. She came over and took a flute.

‘Cheers!’ Spade said, and everyone clinked glasses.

‘I want to thank you for all your generosity over these last months,’ Enzo said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. ‘I do not know what we would have done without you, but we are put back together now, if that is the right expression.’

‘It’s an excellent expression,’ Roger said.

‘So, Felicity, you must keep your money from today’s sale. And Jess – it goes without saying that your profits are yours. I am just glad we could come, to be here with you all. We will repay your kindness.’

‘Thank you,’ Carolina added, holding her glass aloft. There was another round of clinks.

‘I want to do one an’ all,’ Braden said. ‘If it weren’t for you lot, I’d be fucking up somewhere, getting in the shit. This is much more fun.’

‘You’re not old enough to drink champagne,’ Wendy said.

Braden grinned at her, then took a defiant sip. ‘Mind you, if I hadn’t stolen that watch then none of you’d have had the joy of my creative prowess. How’s that for dictionary corner, eh? My creative prowess.’

‘That’s great, dude.’ Spade took his green fedora off and put it on Braden’s head. ‘The Misfits wouldn’t be the same without you. But you need to move onto orange juice now, capiche?’

‘Dictionary corner,’ Jess whispered, her eyes straying to the window again. She didn’t know how many people she’d watched walk past the house now, but none of them had had dark hair and grey eyes, and a smile that felt like her own, personal lightbulb, lighting her up from the inside.

The doorbell rang and her stomach twisted, her palms prickling with sweat. She exchanged a wide-eyed look with Lola, then leaned forward to try and see out of the narrow side window as Felicity, who had shut the front door at three, went to open it.

‘Oh, hello,’ she said. ‘Come in, please.’

‘Thanks.’ It was a male voice, but Jess could barely hear it over her heart pounding in her ears. ‘I didn’t know if I’d be too late, or...’

Jess’s shoulders slumped. It was Milo, Lola’s boss at the Gipsy Moth. Lola had told her that he was a car-boot junkie, and had been thrilled at the prospect of Felicity’s house sale.

‘Milo,’ Lola said. ‘I thought you couldn’t make it!’

‘Problem with our keg delivery,’ he said. ‘Sometimes I think my staff couldn’t organise a piss-up in a pub, which is pretty worrying considering they all work in one.’

As the landlord’s larger-than-life personality absorbed everyone’s attention, Jess slipped into the hallway and sat on the fifth stair up. It smelled of furniture polish and carpet cleaner, the white-painted banisters glistening. She wrapped her arms around her legs and watched as Twiggy stalked up the stairs to join her. He pressed his soft, warm body against her side, his purr reverberating through her hip.

It was clear, now, that Ash wasn’t coming. He knew how important this was to Felicity, and to her, and Jess thought he would have been here if he could. But he needed to prioritise himself right now, and facing up to Felicity’s predicament – being reminded of everything that connected them – was probably too hard on top of everything else.

She should have let go of that sliver of hope hours ago, but she did it now, and the disappointment that took its place was a heavy weight on her chest. This, along with her unanswered message, marked the full-stop to her summer with Ash, those stolen hours that had ended up meaning so much.

Still, tomorrow was Sunday, her busiest day at the market, and she was starting afresh: a shop redesign, clearing out the old, bringing in the new. As she went back into the living room, let Wendy top up her glass, slipped her arm through Susie’s and asked Sofia about her children, she realised that she thought of them all as friends, now. She had other people to light her up, and she wasn’t going to take them for granted any more. Friendships, like time, could be fleeting, and she was going to be better at holding onto the ones that mattered.