Page 59 of The Happy Hour
‘That sounds great,’ Jess said, but she had to stifle her gasp when she stepped through the door. With high ceilings and a large bay window, it was a proud, elegant space that could have been gorgeous. As it was, she could just make out a sofa, one cushion exposed beneath the piles of things, a white cat lying on it, curled up asleep. There was the narrowest of walkways, a clear line of sight to a television, the screen covered with a thick layer of dust, and then books and papers, heaps of folded clothes, boxes of biscuits, crackers and chocolates everywhere, everything in high, teetering piles.
Jess thought there must be a fireplace against the far wall, but it was obscured by a row of dining chairs, several plastic storage crates resting on top of them.
‘This is...’ she started, then noticed one of Wendy’s hares standing on top of a box. Felicity must have bought it on a day when Jess wasn’t working. It looked smug, as if ending up here, overseeing this chaos, had been its goal all along.
‘Who’s this guy?’ Ash put the coffees on the floor and bent to stroke the white cat.
‘This is Twiggy,’ Felicity said. ‘He’s a sweetheart.’ She stood next to Ash and chucked the cat under the chin. ‘I don’t know where Bond and Artemis are.’ She smiled at Jess, then her shoulders sagged. ‘I do feel as if I could have been a better hostess, but I haven’t had the time to tidy, lately. Life gets so busy.’ Her laugh was high and anxious.
‘Have a coffee,’ Ash said. ‘I have cappuccino or Americano. I wasn’t sure if you took milk.’
‘Cappuccino would be wonderful,’ Felicity said.
‘Thank you.’
He handed her a cup. ‘I don’t think I spilled any of it on the way here.’
Jess gave Ash a secret smile as he handed her an Americano.
He returned it, then said, ‘Can I sit next to your cat, Felicity?’
‘Twiggy would love that.’ Felicity perched on a low pile of books, and Jess wondered if she knew the towers of stuff like a well-trodden obstacle course: which were safe to sit on, which were too precarious. Jess glanced around, looking for somewhere she could sit that wouldn’t be a catastrophe, and found a duvet bunched up in an opaque bin liner. She lowered herself gingerly onto it.
‘Tell me about the cats.’ Ash stroked Twiggy, his tanned hand dark against the cat’s white fur. ‘Are they rescues?’
‘Bond is,’ Felicity said. ‘My friend Coco found him, abandoned as a kitten outside her apartment block in Lambeth, and she isn’t allowed pets, so she asked if I’d like him. I’d recently lost one of my older cats, Marigold, and I was feeling all at sea.’
‘Losing pets is always hard,’ Ash said. ‘They’re part of the family.’
‘Do you have any?’
‘Unfortunately not. We’re not allowed them in my apartment block, either. I think my contract says I could have a goldfish, but they’re not the same, are they?’ He ruffled Twiggy behind the ears, and she purred loudly. ‘What about the other one? Twiggy, Bond and...’
‘Artemis,’ Felicity said. ‘Oh, now he is arealterror. The leader of the bunch.’
As they talked, Jess noticed the way Ash spoke to Felicity, gently teasing details from her while also making her feel comfortable, softening her apprehension. Outwardly, he seemed entirely relaxed, but she knew him well enough now that she could see a tightness in his jaw, as if he was on a mission; in professional mode, determined to help.
He was almost too good to be true: certainly too good to let go. This kind, funny man who wanted to spend his Sundays with her, who had so readily agreed to come here today. She didn’t want to rely on him – she didn’t want to rely on anyone, entirely – and even though he wouldn’t tell her what it was, she had a sense that, whatever he did after seeing her, the reason he was in Greenwich in the first place, wouldn’t go on for ever. She had let herself enjoy it because there was something about it that felt temporary.
But today he’d arrived at the shop looking so gorgeous and necessary, already an essential part of her Sundays, and she’d realised that giving him up would be like finding a winning lottery ticket and gifting it to someone else, or throwing it off a bridge so the wind caught it and snatched it away.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she heard Felicity say, and tuned back into their conversation.
‘Only if you fancy it,’ Ash said gently. ‘It’s impossible to know where to start, sometimes. You get focused on other things, and then the job seems too big. But three pairs of hands are better than one.’ His smile was so warm and inviting, Jess didn’t think anyone would be able to resist it, but Felicity had put her coffee down and was wringing her hands.
‘I’m not sure.’ She looked around with wide eyes, and Jess realised Ash had decided to tackle the hoarding head on. ‘I just... all these things, they have a purpose.’
Ash nodded. ‘Of course. They’re your belongings. We wouldn’t have to get rid of a thing, I just wondered if you’d like our help to organise them a bit better. We could focus on one space, perhaps clear these few bits off the sofa, so your cats could snuggle up together.’ He tapped the cushion next to him, which was buried under plastic takeaway containers.
Jess couldn’t imagine Felicity eating a chow mein or a vindaloo, but she could see what Ash was doing: framing it as a way to help her cats, her saviours. She decided that this man, who had stopped a thief and then approached her in the market all those weeks ago, was some kind of miracle. He sipped his coffee, stroked Twiggy, and waited.
‘I just...’ Felicity tapped her fingers on her knee. Ash stayed quiet, so Jess did, too. ‘I suppose we could,’ the older woman said eventually. ‘Justthese few things, if you think that Bond and Artemis would like it?’
‘I’m sure they would,’ Ash said evenly. ‘We’ll take it slowly.’
He waited... waited, until Felicity got up and wove through the clutter to the sofa, then stopped in front of the piles of boxes, a few tatty magazines sticking out like the most chaotic game of Jenga.
‘All right,’ Felicity said. ‘What shall I... how shall we...?’
