Page 111 of The Happy Hour
‘Hey,’ he said. His smile was tentative. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
A shocked laugh slipped out of her. ‘You’re not late. Though I don’t... I hadn’t planned on... I didn’t know that you—’
‘Off you trot,’ Wendy said, waggling the sea-salt candle.
Jess mouthed ‘thank you’, then she walked over, took hold of Ash’s T-shirt, turned him round and manoeuvred him out of the doorway. He stuttered out a laugh, and let himself be pushed.
Her mind was a blur. She thought about the park, the riverside, the heath – all the places they’d been together, somewhere that would be quieter. But her heart was beating in her throat, and she couldn’t wait, so she stopped them almost immediately, in front of the large picture window of No Vase Like Home, the sparkly twigs visible through the glass, and turned to face him.
‘Have you thought of a subtle superpower that was too good to message me?’ She didn’t know how else to start this; what to say to him that wasn’t an overblown declaration of her feelings, which might well send him running back to Holborn.
‘Not me,’ Ash said. He was gripping the coffee carrier with both hands, and he looked tired, with his Sunday stubble and cracked lips. To her he’d never looked more beautiful. ‘I met someone this morning. A woman who told me her mini superpower was knowing when strangers needed advice.’
Jess’s mouth fell open. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously.’ Ash nodded. ‘Those were her exact words –a mini superpower. At first I was pissed off with her for even talking to me – for telling me off for swearing – but then she said that, and I realised.’
‘What did you realise?’ Jess croaked out. She was finding it difficult to breathe. A couple barged past them and she pulled Ash closer, tucking them against the front of the shop.
He held his hand out between them, his palm facing up. He had a graze there, and it looked recent. ‘I realisedthat I have been a monumental idiot, and that I have got this all so wrong: the whole “deciding to go through this on my own” thing. I am not cut out for martyrdom, as much as I felt like I shouldn’t ask for anyone’s help. Foryourhelp.’
Jess slid her hand on top of his. His skin was warm, and his fingers curved gently around her wrist. ‘I could have told you that,’ she said. ‘When we met last time, I told you I agreed with you that this wouldn’t work because of timing or circumstance or... whatever it was. But I realised, almost as soon as you left, that Ididn’tagree, but—’
‘You respected my wishes,’ Ash said. ‘Even though I was being obstinate.’
‘Themostobstinate. But you were hurting, too. I knew that.’
He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. ‘I was. But I-I’ve realised another thing, too, since then. That there is always going to be bad timing and difficult circumstances. Life doesn’t let you press pause so you can get to know a person without the real world getting in the way.’
‘If it did, then you wouldn’t be getting to know them properly, would you?’ Jess was warming to his theme, because it felt like all the conversations she’d been having in her own head over the last fortnight. ‘There is no relationship utopia. There’s only messy, everyday life, with all its ups and downs, its hurts and high points, and if you get to navigate it...’ She stopped.
‘Jess?’ He squeezed her hand, his gaze warm and concerned.
She swallowed, tried to even out her voice. ‘If you get to navigate it with people who you care about, and who care about you, then that’s so much better than doing it alone.’
‘Exactly. So.’ He let out a long, shuddering breath. ‘I came here to apologise for what I said, and the way I behaved: for upsetting you so much, and for not replying to your message about Felicity’s house sale.’
‘That’s OK.’
He squeezed her hand again. ‘It’s not. None of what I did was OK. And I also wanted to say that – well, to ask – if you might be prepared to forgive me? To take me on, with all my mess and my dark bits, my stubbornness, and also, if you’d let me take you on, too? Because I am here for all of you. I think that I mightloveall of you, and I don’t want to do these hours on Sunday, or any day, without you.’
Jess swayed, her shoulder pressing against the window. ‘You love me?’
‘I do.’ Ash dropped his head. ‘I just said that Imightlove you, but that isn’t right. It isn’t strong enough. Jessica Peacock, I am in love with you, and I’m sorry I walked away, and that I didn’t tell you about my dad, and for all the hundreds of things—’
‘I love you too,’ she rushed. She took the coffee carrier and put it on the floor against the wall, then closed the gap between them. ‘Let’s stop being sorry about things that have already happened, and be happy about this, instead.’ She pressed her hands on either side of his face, his stubble prickling her palms, and felt his arms come around her waist. She leaned up and in, her lips inches from his. ‘About the fact that we’re stupidly in love with each other, and we’re actually going toletourselves be, too.’
‘I’m down with celebrating being stupidly in love,’ he said. ‘But is now the right time—?’ She kissed the words out of his mouth, running her hands up into his hair, while he tightened his hold on her, bringing their bodies flush. They kissed to the soundtrack of the market at lunchtime, shouts and laughter and the melodious notes of a wooden wind chime on one of the stalls.
Eventually, she pulled back to look at him, his grey eyes shining and his cheeks flushed, his lips pink from where they’d been reminding each other how well they fitted together.
‘Do you know what?’ she said, lacing her fingers through his.
‘What?’ His voice was deep and rumbly and perfect, threaded through with the wonder that she was feeling like an earthquake.
‘I think for us, Ash – for you and me – all the time is the right time. It just took us a while to realise it.’
‘I’d agree with that,’ he murmured, and kissed her again.
