Chapter Five
‘Heathcliff …’
A bell began to chime, its notes long and melodious. A golden sound. There was also a golden shimmer to the air, like a fine mist of rain without the wetness. As if someone had suddenly sprinkled fairy dust down from the mezzanine level.
Tess appreciated the theatrics. The spectacle of it all. She was already thinking about how she’d write this up for an article. If Sarah didn’t want it, she’d pitch it somewhere else. Maybe …
A set of double doors at the far end of the library, which she hadn’t even noticed, suddenly swung open and she saw a figure in silhouette.
Ah, the AI, 3D hologram thingy had arrived!
He strode nearer. Hold on. There was no way that ChatGPT could do this; conjure up a man of such presence, such animal magnetism. Like a big cat, a panther once confined to chains and a cage but now set free.
Because he was Heathcliff. There was absolutely no mistaking him for anyone else.
Ella had rather blindsided Tess when she’d suggested Heathcliff.
Tess hadn’t read Wuthering Heights for a good decade and a change – it wasn’t one of her recent rereads as it had been one of her A-level set texts and the post-traumatic stress was still strong.
She’d had Post-it notes stuck all over the house with quotes written on them.
So Emily Bronte’s description of Heathcliff, even after all these years, was still etched into her cerebral cortex. Along with the lyrics to every Busted song ever recorded and the cheerleader chant from the beginning of Bring It On.
He had grown a tall, athletic, well-formed man; beside whom my master seemed quite slender and youth-like …
His countenance was much older in expression and decision of feature than Mr Linton’s; it looked intelligent, and retained no marks of former degradation.
A half-civilised ferocity lurked yet in the depressed brows and eyes full of black fire, but it was subdued; and his manner was even dignified: quite divested of roughness, though too stern for grace!
In other words, he was fit AF.
Also, clearly an out-of-work actor. But kudos to whoever did the library’s casting.
‘Heathcliff’ came to a halt in the centre of the library to stand under the chandelier. As if he were disorientated and needed a moment to compose himself. Then his gaze came to rest on the three of them: Tess, Ella and her horrible brother.
He came nearer. ‘Ah, Sharma, still an absolute black-hearted wretch,’ he said harshly.
Next to her, Gabriel Sharma stiffened. ‘Now, Heathcliff, we don’t want any trouble,’ he said coolly. ‘Not like last time. And certainly not like the time before that.’
Tess recalled, as she saw the way that Heathcliff, or the actor playing him, stared at the grumpy librarian that he’d also looked at Edward Linton with a similar ‘expression of mortal hate’, and she gave a nervous little start.
The slight movement drew Heathcliff’s attention.
Now Tess was clearly in his sights. But she wasn’t a librarian with a stick up his arse.
And she wasn’t Edward Linton, some over-privileged trust fund kid.
Now his dark eyes were nothing but appreciative as they looked Tess up and down and lingered on her cleavage.
She had wondered if her gingham wrap dress was a little too gapey, but Heathcliff seemed to be enjoying the view.
‘Madam,’ he said, his voice deep and raspy. ‘I am but a low-born slave not fit to look upon your beauty and majesty.’
Then he bowed. A man actually bowing to Tess, like he was honoured to be in her presence.
Tess didn’t care if this man’s only previous acting experience was on Holby City. This was the stuff, Oscar-worthy stuff.
‘You don’t have to call me madam. I’m Tess,’ she said in a voice that trembled slightly. As did the hand she held out as Heathcliff approached her with his feline grace. Like it was just the two of them and the rest of the world could go and do one. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you.’
He didn’t shake Tess’s hand but lifted it to his lips, so he could press a kiss to it, his eyes never leaving hers.
‘The pleasure is all mine,’ he said in that husky voice, still holding Tess’s hand. She was vaguely aware of Ella standing next to her, her own hands clasped together in glee. ‘Unless you’re going to plague me with infernal enquiries as to my moral failings like the other young ladies?’
This kind of immersive experience was absolutely wasted on the PhD students.
‘Well, I thought we’d go for something to eat. Do you like pizza?’
Heathcliff finally dropped Tess’s hand so he could frown. ‘Pizza? What is this pizza of which you speak?’
He was really committing to the bit. What did they eat back then? ‘Maybe some meat and ale then?’
When he was doing the bad boy thing, his dark eyes flashing, his posture all panther-y, Heathcliff was devastatingly handsome. When he smiled, he was still handsome, but also kind of goofy. Smiling really didn’t suit him. ‘I like ale,’ he announced. ‘I like it very much.’
It was Tess’s turn to run her eyes up and down Heathcliff’s body.
His firm physique probably wasn’t from tramping over the moors as they wuthered.
He was wearing dark clothing. Trousers, rather than breeches, a white shirt that clearly hadn’t known the touch of Persil or a forty-degree wash and a pair of black boots that had seen better days.
A bit unkempt but he wouldn’t look that out of place in Soho. In the hipster paradise of Hackney, he’d fit right in.
‘I guess we could jump on the tube and go to …’
‘You are not leaving the library,’ intoned Gabriel the buzzkill, who seemed to think that he was in charge of Tess. Which he wasn’t. Compared to her actual boss, Claire, he was amateur hour and so it was easy to ignore him. Anyway, his sister was very much on her side.
‘Of course they can leave the library,’ Ella insisted, shouldering her brother out of the way. ‘Just have him back by midnight.’
Tess grinned. ‘Like Cinderella.’
Heathcliff was glowering again but looking foxy again. ‘Madam, I am no character from a fairy tale, designed to soothe the fears of babes as they lie in their cradles. Rather, I am the creature of their nightmares.’
‘OK,’ Tess said slowly. She liked that he was staying in character but it wasn’t very romantic. Maybe once they got out of here and no longer had Gabriel Sharma looming over them, he’d loosen up a bit. Probably be boring her with his showreel before the evening was out. ‘Shall we head out then?’
Her least favourite Sharma sibling was suddenly barring their way. When it came to brooding intensity, he was giving Heathcliff a run for his money. ‘But you haven’t read the terms and conditions. Or signed the form. Any of the forms!’
‘Tess is a professional,’ Ella said, tucking her arm into Tess’s as she led her out of the library, Heathcliff walking alongside them, his eyes wide as they stepped into the hall and he spied the big wooden door, which separated him from his freedom.
‘Allow me,’ he said, easily shouldering open the heavy door like it was made of feathers, but just as Tess was about to get this date properly going, she was held back by a hand on her arm.
‘My number, if there are any problems. Call me immediately,’ Gabriel Sharma said, forcing a piece of paper into Tess’s hand.
Tess stuffed the paper into her bag. ‘Honestly, it will be fine,’ she said impatiently. ‘I’ve got everything under control.’
He actually made the sign of the cross, like a great big drama queen. ‘Any trouble and you must call me. I’ll come at once.’
Well, she definitely wouldn’t be doing that.