Page 56 of The Happy Hour
‘You need to be in the background,’ Lola said, as if she could read her mind.
‘I don’t,’ Jess protested. ‘Just focus on the prints. Nobody cares who made them.’
‘We care,’ Lola said. ‘And everyone else will too.’
‘What am I going to do, though? Just stand there like a lemon? Gesture to the pictures like some kind of QVC model?’
‘Hold one up,’ Lola suggested. ‘Smile for the camera.’
‘I don’t—’
‘Do you know what you’re doing, Braden?’ Lola asked him, cutting Jess off.
‘Fuck yeah I do!’ He punched the air, his fist hidden by his oversized sleeve.
‘What’s your role in all this?’ Jess asked, curiosity overriding her nerves. ‘Do you have an instrument, or are you their official cheerleader?’
‘Cheerleader!’ Braden scoffed, then tapped his cheek. ‘It’s all in here.’
‘You’re a singer?’
‘Nah, man. Beatboxer.’
‘Oh!’ Jess said. ‘OK. With a violin and a guitar?’
‘He’s really good,’ Lola told her. ‘We’ve made it work, our little trio of misfits. Right. Deano, are you all set up?’
‘Just about.’ Deano had long, dirty blond hair in a ponytail, and his skinny jeans looked painted on, but he clearly knew what he was doing.
Jess gritted her teeth, let herself be manoeuvred into position next to the display of her artworks, and hoped that Lola, Spade and Braden would block her from view.
Braden, it turned out, was a revelation. The moment he joined in, Jess wanted to stop him and ask how he did it. Did he have a tiny electronic speaker hidden in his cheek? She didn’t know how anyone could be a walking percussion section with only their tongue and soft palate.
Lola and Spade were unfazed, and Jess watched from her awkward spot as Deano panned round the shop, zoomed in on the prints, and hopefully left her out of it. Their music filledthe shop and reverberated through her bones, while the lights on Spade’s portable amp danced like a mini disco. It flowed through her like electricity, making her fingers and toes tingle: Lola’s soaring violin, the growling Fender, Braden adding structure with his beats. It made her think of her last kiss with Ash, the desire and desperation growing between them, her certainty that, if they had been somewhere more private than an alleyway, they wouldn’t have stopped.
The music cut off all of a sudden, and Jess swayed slightly on the spot.
‘That was marvellous.’ Wendy clapped, her voice raised as if the music was still ringing in her ears.
‘Thank you.’ Lola gave them a low bow, then straightened. ‘Is the landing page all ready to go?’
Jess nodded. She had written a blurb telling Enzo and Carolina’s story, the long tradition in their family of making delicate filigree jewellery, Carolina’s sudden illness and how sales of the prints would go towards getting them back on their feet. She had checked Enzo was happy with the wording, emphasising that it was a temporary measure to get them through a tough time,notbegging for handouts, and she hoped that a combination of the Misfits’ music, TikTok’s ability to latch onto the unusual, and some brightly coloured wall prints could make a difference to the couple’s future.
The Misfits left as noisily as they’d arrived, and then it was just Wendy and Jess and their empty shop, and the whole thing felt surreal and a bit anticlimactic.
‘You just wait,’ Wendy said. ‘In a few hours’ time there’ll be a mad rush, and you’ll have to leave early and make more of these for tomorrow.’
‘I doubt that,’ Jess replied, but she felt a small blossoming of hope. Maybe theywouldall sell out, and it wouldn’t only be Enzo’s business that got a boost, but Jess’s side hustle too.
‘Oh God, Ilovethese!’ The familiar voice snapped Jess’s head up. She had been sneakily looking at her phone below the counter, waiting for Lola to send through the video. The shop had been unusually quiet, as if laughing at Jess for letting herself believe she might make some sales.
‘Hi, Margaret,’ she said.
‘I adore these prints. You’ve got a new supplier?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Some of them are so funny!’ Margaret picked one up, and Jess’s palms prickled with sweat.
