Page 95 of The Happy Hour
He made himself a cup of tea and pulled up their messages, reading through the last few she’d sent.
Ash, I’m so sorry. Are you doing OK? I’m here if you want to talk.
I never should have said the things I did. I know you have so much to deal with right now, but one day I’d love the chance to apologise properly.
Please just send me a thumbs up, so I know you’re OK. This caring about people business is messing with my head.??xx
He typed a reply:
Hey, Jess. Peggy told me that you know my dad died.
I haven’t felt able to get in touch before now, but I owe you an explanation. You said you want to apologise, but that’s what I need to do. How about the bench in the park? You say when. xx
He flung his phone aside and scrolled through the streaming services until he found one of his favourite films, hoping it would distract him. It took her less than half an hour to reply.
Oh Ash I’m so glad to hear from you! I am so sorry about your dad. Yes to meeting up – I’d love that. Are you off work at the moment? What about Tuesday afternoon? It’s my day off, so we could take some lunch to the park. xx
He rubbed his eyes, the knots tightening in his shoulders as he replied.
Tuesday’s fine. Midday? I’ll meet you in the food hall, then we can go together. Ax
Perfect. And I really am sorry. I need you to know that now, before I see you. xx
He puffed out a breath, ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes for a moment before he replied, hoping she would look at this message in the future, and know that he meant it.
I know. I’m really sorry, too. For all of it. See you Tuesday.
Chapter Thirty-Five
When she saw him on Tuesday, standing against one of the pillars at the entrance to the market, his dark hair slightly too long, his navy T-shirt hugging him in all the right places and his jeans faded at the knee, Jess felt sadness and longing and relief. It hadn’t been that long, but she’d missed him, and it had hurt even more knowing what he was going through.
He noticed her and raised a hand in greeting. She could see he was attempting a smile, but it wasn’t quite working.
‘Hello.’ She stopped in front of him.
‘Jess,’ he said. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m OK.’ She exhaled. ‘Better than you, I imagine? I’m so sorry, Ash. I’m sorry about—’
‘Hey.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘Let’s get some food, talk somewhere that’s less of a thoroughfare.’
‘You’re right. Japanese?’
‘Great.’
They got their food and walked through the market, which was much emptier than at the weekends but still humming quietly with activity.
‘Ash!’ Olga held her arms out. ‘You’re back!’
‘Just for today.’ He waited while she came round her stall and hugged him, but Jess could see the stiffness in his shoulders, like he was refusing to give into her easy warmth. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘You too,’ Olga said. ‘I’m glad Jess tracked you down.’
‘Oh, I didn’t—’
‘I know Spade goes on about market ghouls, but what would this place be, what wouldwebe, without our customers? Even if you don’t buy anything, just lingering here will make other people turn and look, see?’
‘Sure,’ Ash said.
