Page 18 of The Happy Hour
Diamanté yapped and then raced to her owner, dancing at her feet. The woman bent down, held a treat out on her palm and secured the lead in one swift movement.
‘Sorry to have bothered you,’ she said.
‘You didn’t,’ Ash replied.
‘She’s cute,’ Jess added, ‘for a demon.’
The woman gave them a rueful smile and retreated down the hill with her unruly pet.
‘Diamanté the Demon Dog,’ Ash said. ‘It sounds like a West End musical.’
‘Or a nightmare,’ Jess replied. ‘Do you have any pets?’
Ash shook his head. ‘My apartment block is an animal-free zone, except that the guy with neck tattoos who lives on the ground floor has two Dobermanns – unless he walks them for a friend every day.’
‘He has neck tattoos and two Dobermanns?’ Jess shuddered. ‘I guess he’s not going to be called out on it any time soon.’
‘Certainly not by me.’ Ash’s grimace made Jess double over with laughter. ‘What about you?’
‘I have a Terence,’ Jess said.
‘Cat or dog?’
‘Housemate, actually. And, in fact, my landlord. He’s well-behaved most of the time.’
‘Oh,’ Ash said. ‘He’s... is he, uhm...’
Jess hid her amusement at Ash’s loss of composure. Did he think Terence was her boyfriend? Friend with benefits? The thought was laughable – there was zero attraction between them – but she was tempted to keep Ash dangling. ‘He’s mid-thirties, a postman, and mostly keeps to himself. Eats jam out of the jar with a spoon, no toast required.’
Ash’s pause seemed to last for eternity. ‘You get on, though?’
‘We don’t antagonise each other, but that’s mainly because we don’t spend much time together. He’s up and out really early, so he crashes early, too. My work days are more straightforward, but I spend a lot of time in my room.’ She didn’t know why she’d added that last bit, but spoken aloud it sounded lonely. ‘Working on my Etsy things,’ she clarified. She watched Diamanté and her owner disappear into the trees at the bottom of the hill.
Ash rubbed his hand over his jaw. He seemed distracted all of a sudden, no longer with her, then he glanced at his watch and his brows drew together.
‘I have to go,’ he told her. ‘How would you feel about...?’ He cleared his throat.
Jess realised she was sucking her cheeks in, that it must look like a bad impression of a duck. She released them. ‘Same time next week?’
‘Midday,’ he confirmed. ‘I promise I won’t be late again. I’ll bring you an Americano?’
‘I’ll get the drinks next time. What’s your favourite?’
‘Cappuccino.’
They made their way down the hill, along a narrow path that ran through the grass.
‘You were saying hello to people in the market,’ she said. ‘On our way here.’
‘I’ve talked to some of the stallholders,’ he admitted. ‘Just the last few weeks.’
‘Only a few weeks, and you already know them enough to say hello.’ It had taken her months to get to know the other vendors, but Ash had broken through boundaries in minutes.
‘Places like the market, it’s the people who hold it together, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘What they sell is important, sure, and the muffins and jewellery are a draw, but Olga’s hats are just hats without her jokes and the way she greets everyone like a long-lost relative. And the objects – they matter because you associate them with a happy memory, or they’re the perfect gift for someone important. None of the items matter in isolation, there’s always a story or a connection.’ They broke through the trees, onto the clear expanse of grass with the Queen’s House in all its splendour beyond. ‘I didn’t find your shop first, or get drawn in by the window display. I met you.’
‘Only because we both chased Braden.’
‘I would have found you,’ Ash said. It was such a simple statement, but it made Jess’s heart stutter and then start up again double time. ‘It’s not thethingsthat matter – not the money that my colleagues make in horrifying amounts; not the hares and vases and cushions you sell that make your customers’ homes cosy. It’s the people they surround themselves with.’ He shrugged, and she saw a tinge of pink on his cheeks. ‘I come for the company, not the muffins.’ He stopped on the path. ‘I’m sorry, I need to run.’
