Page 38 of The Happy Hour
‘You could go to social services,’ her dad said, tentatively. ‘The council? It must be a fire risk.’
‘It’s all kinds of risks,’ Jess said. ‘But I don’t want to get this... person in trouble, either. They live on their own with their cats, and I think if they were told they were doing something wrong, it would mortify her.’
‘What’s the alternative, then?’ her dad said. ‘If she needs help?’
Jess was annoyed that, right at the end, she had revealed it was a woman. Not that her parents often came to the market, or would have an inkling who she was talking about, but still.
‘You help her,’ Edie said. ‘If you don’t want to get someone else involved, if you think that would be counterproductive, then it’s down to you, isn’t it?’ There was still an edge to her voice after Jess’s earlier barb.
‘But I have no clue what to do! I’ve never seen anything like this in real life, and I don’t think three half-watched episodes ofBritain’s Greatest Hoardersqualifies me to give advice. Besides, I don’t know her that well.’
‘You know her enough to care about her,’ her dad said.
‘You care about her enough to call us for help,’ her mum added, laughing. ‘That says a great deal.’
Jess winced. ‘Yeah, I guess. I’ll... have a think.’ She felt as if she’d done nothingbutthink since she’d stepped through Felicity’s door that morning. ‘Thanks Mum, Dad.’
‘Of course,’ her mum said briskly. ‘You know we’re here for you.’
‘And it might be nice to see you, once in a while,’ her dad added.
‘I’d like that,’ Jess said quietly, and for once it felt like it might be true. ‘It’s just hard, with me working on the weekends.’
‘You have evenings off.’
‘I do,’ Jess conceded. ‘I’ll look at some dates.’ Was there a more obvious brush-off than that? Still, it was all she could say right now.
They said goodbye, and she flung her phone aside and lay on her bed. She couldn’t help Felicity; she had no idea where to start. Until that morning, she had looked up to the older woman as a role model, someone independent, elegant and in control of her life. Jess had imagined that her home was as polished as her appearance, but it was clear that there were two very different sides to her, and now all she could think about was how unhappy Felicity must be, to live such a chaotic, fractured existence, and how she might somehow end up like her. Before, that thought had filled her with hope; now, she felt nothing but dread.
She would speak to Wendy tomorrow, see if, together, they could come up with a way to help her. And tomorrow was Friday, which meant that, in only a couple more days, she would get another hour with Ash. Ash, who was easy to talk to and made her laugh, who was a nice distraction during a busy morning. Ash, who she suddenly wanted to tell all her problems and fears to, who she was desperate to phone up on a Thursday night, so she could ask his advice, listen to him reassuring her in his deep voice.
Groaning, she got up and looked at the new quotes she had created. Did she have any about falling into a deep pit that she’d dug entirely on her own? About being sent off course from a perfectly acceptable life plan of relying solely on yourself by a man with grey eyes? If not, it might be time to add a couple more to her collection.
Chapter Fourteen
Ash appeared in the doorway of No Vase Like Home at ten to twelve on Sunday, wearing a black shirt over jeans and a grey trilby with a peacock feather sticking out of the band.
‘What’s this?’ Jess was smiling already. ‘Dress-up Sunday?’
‘Not quite.’ Ash had a coffee carrier in one hand and held out the other hand to her. ‘But this is for you.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Jess shook her head, a laugh spilling out of her. ‘A cherry red flat cap?’
‘It’s raspberry, actually.’ He waggled it and, reluctantly, Jess took it and put it on, pulling the brim down low. ‘How do I look?’
Ash’s smile was slow, his eyes lighting up. ‘Stunning,’ he said. ‘Shall we go?’
‘Have fun kids!’ Wendy called from behind the counter.
Ash led the way through the market, slipping easily past people while Jess stayed close behind him. Now they were together again, she felt an electric charge. She couldn’t stop thinking about last weekend, and how she’d recklessly manoeuvred his arms around her.
‘What’s with the hats?’ she asked, when they were clear of the market and Ash was leading her in the direction of the Queen’s House.
‘There’s a Greenwich film tour, did you know that?’ Ash slowed down so she could catch up with him, then handed her a coffee. The sun was hiding behind a slate-grey sky, a darker churn of clouds to the north threatening rain.
‘And it requires hats?’ Jess had heard of it. Greenwich, with all its stunning architecture and history, was a popular filming location for big budget productions, and the museum service ran a tour showing off the prime spots. She had never heard of participants needing costumes, though.
‘The original film tour doesn’t start until half twelve,’ Ash said, ‘and we only have an hour, so I’ve devised one of my own. Welcome to the Ash Faulkner tour of outstanding Greenwich filming locations.’ He doffed his trilby at her, bowing low over his outstretched leg, and a woman walking behind him muttered, ‘For God’s sake’, as she had to change course to avoid tripping over him.
