Page 79 of The Happy Hour
By the end of the day, Jess was exhausted. Wendy had been keeping a close eye on her after she refused to go home early, providing her with an endless supply of hot drinks, enticing snacks and, when Jess allowed it, hugs.
‘Pamper yourself this evening,’ her boss said, as Jess got her handbag out of the storeroom at closing time. ‘Do something nice.’
‘Sure,’ Jess replied, giving her a smile, and let Wendy inflict a final hug on her before she left.
What she really wanted to do was go home and think of nothing much at all, maybe watch a Gerard Butler film with Terence. She said a weary goodbye to Olga and Susie, who were both tidying their stalls away. It always felt strange walking through the market when it was closing, the sounds of shutters being pulled down, items being put into boxes more prevalent than talking or laughter. Tonight it felt extra sombre, even though she knew – of course she did – that there would always be people who were less than kind about artists and small business owners, who got their fun from making others feel bad. She’d never been personally insulted before, that was all.
An afternoon rain shower had been and gone, and Jess put her head down and walked quickly along damp, shiny pavements. She didn’t usually get into her pyjamas straight after work, but today she might.
She took her key out of her bag, looked up, and came to a stumbling stop.
Ash was leaning against the door to her flat, typing something on his phone, his navy tie loosened over a white work shirt. Her body’s reaction was instant desire, but her brain stuttered.
‘Ash?’
He looked up, and even his smile couldn’t break through the emotional wall that had just come up. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘You look worn out.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Her bag slipped off her shoulder, and she hauled it back up.
‘I wanted to see you,’ he said. ‘I wanted to make sure you were OK.’
‘I’m fine. I told you not to come.’
His smile faltered, but didn’t fall. ‘I know, but I was worried about you. You sounded so upset, and we were going to see each other tomorrow anyway—’
‘I haven’t got any food in. I was going to get a takeaway.’
‘We could get one together, if you want. Or I could—’
‘I didn’t expect you to be here.’
Ash pushed off the door as she approached. Her fingers tingled with the urge to touch him, but she resisted.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,’ he said. ‘I thought it’d be a surprise. Agoodsurprise.’
‘It’s very thoughtful of you.’ She stopped in front of him, but she didn’t let herself reach for him.
‘You sound like a robot.’ Ash laughed, but some of the warmth had left his voice. ‘I’m sorry, are you busy tonight? I just thought, after what happened, that you might not want to be on your own. I wanted to check you were all right.’
‘You did check, though, on the phone. And I told you I was.’
‘Jess, I’m sorry—’
‘You keep saying that.’ She put her key in the lock and pushed the door open, then looked at him. ‘Are you coming up?’
He pressed his lips together, then nodded. She heard his steady footsteps behind her, could feel pressure building up inside her. This was all wrong. She’d told him not to come, and he’d come anyway, and she wanted to... to fold herself into him, but she couldn’t, could she? It was too much, too soon, and he hadn’t listened to her.
‘Do you want a beer?’ she asked him. ‘I have some Budweiser.’
Ash stopped just inside the door. ‘Am I staying?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t think that’s down to me, is it? I mean, I told you not to come, but here you are.’
‘I thought you’d want to see me. I thought our problem was finding time to see each other.’
‘Yes, but today has been hard, and—’
‘I know, and I thought I could comfort you, or take your mind off things, or...’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘When bad stuff happens, you usually want to be with the people closest to you.’
