Page 70 of The Happy Hour
‘Before she’d even asked me!’ Wendy called from the storeroom.
Ash’s eyes widened. ‘You mean—’
‘It’s fine,’ Jess cut in. ‘I would have texted you if she’d said no.’
She hoisted her bag over her shoulder as they left the shop, emerging into a market with the frisson of almost-drink-o’clock, nearly at the end of its countdown to the weekend. The voices and laughter were boisterous, Olga showing a customer her Indiana Jones-style hats, Roger holding up one of his more expensive trinkets for another – a porcelain scene of a country house with a large oak tree outside, tiny porcelain people standing in front of the tiny front door.
Without his customary coffees, Ash had his hands deep in his jeans pockets, and Jess had the absurd thought that if he tripped, she would have to catch him.
‘So, Friday,’ she said unnecessarily. ‘Did it feel weird?’
‘Coming here?’ he asked.
She nodded.
‘I thought it would, but the journey has become like muscle memory. Except... it’s also the opposite.’ They stopped at the lights on Romney Road.
‘The opposite how?’
‘I always remember every step of it,’ he explained. ‘You know how you can take a familiar journey and your mind drifts, so you reach your destination without really noticing it? It’s easy to do on public transport, but I can also do it driving to see Mum or a friend, which is scary.’
‘I often don’t remember my walk to work,’ Jess said, ‘but that’s only ten minutes.’
‘Exactly. But with my trips here, whether I take the train or the boat, it’s as if I’m hyper-aware the entire time.’
‘Why is that, do you think?’ They were threading through groups of people on the busy pavement, grand buildings on either side of them.
‘Because I have stronger emotions associated with this place than I do with work, I guess.’
‘And why isthat,do you think?’ She glanced at him, expecting him to be smirking – that he’d been referring to her, and their kisses – but he looked anxious. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘The thing after.’
‘Not just that,’ Ash said hurriedly. ‘But... anyway. It didn’t feel weird coming here today, it just felt good. I’ve been looking forward to all this time with you.’ He gestured to the right, and Jess walked through the gate.
‘The Queen’s House? Are you going to reenact an entire episode ofBridgertonfor me this time?’
‘Did you know there’s a famous ghost here?’
‘One photo, taken in the Sixties.’ Jess laughed. ‘Is this your plan?’
Ash looked affronted. ‘I thought we could investigate the Tulip Stairs.’
‘For...’ she looked at her watch. ‘Forty-five minutes?’
‘A quick tour, then I’ll take you for dinner.’
‘Zombie tunnels, ghostly staircases.’ She shook her head. ‘Do I need to worry about you, Ash?’
‘And where have you been taking me for the last four weeks? Is that really date material?’ He brushed his hand down her back, leading her along the path to the beautiful white house. Greenwich park rose up behind it, visible in slices through the colonnades on either side. The grass was impossibly green, thesky blue with white clouds scudding through it. The rosy sun kissed the white stonework and turned it peachy pink, and the whole thing was glorious. Ash, most of all, with his dark hair and late-in-the-day stubble.
‘We’ve really helped Felicity.’ She didn’t regret it, but she had often wondered what they could have been doing if it was just the two of them; how much more they would know each other by now.
‘I’m joking,’ Ash said, gesturing for her to go first down the stairs that led into the basement, then up into the main house.
Inside, visitors were admiring the black-and-white tiled floor in the great hall, and the famed tulip staircase rising above it, its blue, wrought-iron banister shining in the afternoon light. The whole thing was magnificent, but Jess thought it was cold. It needed twinkly lights, some soft furnishings, a few well-placed prints on the walls. A guide gestured them to the start of the tour, the first information plaque, but neither she nor Ash was interested.
‘You do realise that we’ll have to leave long before it gets dark,’ she said. ‘Our ghost-hunting efforts aren’t going to be very credible.’
‘It’s a bit... echoey.’ Ash sounded disappointed.
