Page 50 of The Happy Hour
‘Which is?’ Roger was the first to crack, unable to hold Lola’s deliberate pause for long.
‘In No Vase Like Home,’ she said. ‘When Jess’s motivational prints are on display.’
Jess squirmed on the bench as everyone looked at her. She resisted the urge to put her hands over her eyes.
‘You’ve actually told Wendy, then?’ Kirsty asked. ‘That’s great. You should be putting your stuff out there.’
‘I’mgoingto tell her,’ Jess corrected. ‘Today. After...’ After she’d had her nerves soothed by Ash, was what she was thinking. She didn’t say it. ‘Hopefully she’ll let me stock a few, and the money we raise can go towards Enzo’s rent.’
Enzo fiddled with the top button of his shirt. ‘I do not know if I am comfortable with this.’
‘Why not?’ Jess asked gently. ‘You’re not asking people to give you handouts. We – your friends – are raising it legitimately. It isn’t even fundraising, it’s just straight-up selling.’
‘But the profits should be going to you, and to Wendy.’
‘This is what I want,’ Jess said. ‘And I’d bet you anything – a million pounds – that Wendy will feel the same.’ Her pulse raced every time she thought about speaking to her boss, asking to bring her frivolous designs into the real, physical world of No Vase Like Home.
‘I am almost out of stock,’ Enzo said. ‘Carolina is still not well enough to work, and if I have nothing to sell, then having rent money will make no difference.’
There was a beat of silence, and a rowdy hen party clattered past, the women wearing tight dresses in bold colours and gold feather boas.
‘Oh Enzo,’ Susie said, ‘I’m so sorry.’ She’d brought one of her fluffy ducklings with her, and was kneading it like a stress toy.
‘That’s raw, man,’ Spade added quietly.
‘There has to be something we can do.’ Kirsty sent her wide-eyed gaze around the table.
Enzo stirred his tea. ‘My wife’s sister, Sofia, can make the jewellery too: they learnt together, growing up. But she has three children, and works as a supply teacher four days a week. I can’t ask her to reduce her hours, or to pay for childcare, just to help us.’
‘She’s family, though. Surely she would want to help out?’ Susie squeezed the head of her duckling so tightly that Jess winced.
‘There’s a difference between wanting to and being able to.’ Spade shrugged. ‘The cost of living’s through the roof right now.’
‘So if we could raise enough money for you to pay Sofia, then she could reduce her school hours and make some pieces for you to sell?’ Jess said.
‘She could.’ Enzo rubbed his eyes. ‘I feel as ifIshould be doing it, that I should have got Carolina to teach me, but she has the fingers... the dexterity. I have always been in charge of the business side of things.’
‘You can’t do everything, Enzo.’ Lola covered his hand with hers. ‘And even if you could, there aren’t that many hours in the day.’
‘I’ve already sold some of my new designs online,’ Jess told him, her cheeks heating. She felt like an intruder, because all these people were so much more creative than she was, making a living from their work. ‘If Wendy lets me display some in the shop, and Lola and Spade do their TikTok thing, then we might be able to raise enough for you to offer Sofia some work.’
‘It’s a good plan,’ Kirsty said quietly.
‘We’ve got to give it a shot.’ Spade ruffled Enzo’s hair. ‘We’re here for you, dude.’
There were solemn nods around the table, and Enzo gave them a weak smile. Jess knew he was embarrassed, but what else could he do? He couldn’t risk losing his livelihood at a time when they were most in need of support. If Carolina’s arthritis was too bad, then getting Sofia to make their traditional jewellery until she had a working treatment plan in place was their best bet.
‘Bloody hell, have I stumbled on a wake?’
Jess’s head shot up, and despite the sombre mood she grinned and bounced out of her seat. Ash looked as casual as she’d ever seen him, in a Pop Art T-shirt and faded jeans. His forearms were tanned, and his hair looked wind-ruffled, as if he’d stood on the deck of the Clipper for the entire journey.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘Happy Sunday.’
‘Happy Sunday.’ Ash came round the table and squeezed her arm, then brushed his lips over her cheek. ‘Hey, everyone.’
There was a chorus of hellos, and Jess realised that he knew them all – apart from Lola.
‘Ash, this is my best friend, Lola. Lola, this is Ash.’
