Page 25 of The Last Saturday In July
‘We’ve separate interests, Kate. I don’t expect Simon to go out riding with me.’
Kate started to tidy up the counter. ‘Not all of us got riding lessons when we were kids, Jess. You wouldn’t catch me dead on a horse.’
‘Maybe you could be Simon’s opera buddy.’ Jess tried to make it sound like a joke. ‘Ignore me, sorry, I barely slept.’
‘God, you poor thing.’ Kate gave a small shake of her head. ‘Look, tell me to mind my own business, but all I’m saying is that it’s important for couples to have shared interests. And, you know, be careful not to take Simon for granted.’
‘I don’t.’ Jess belched loudly. ‘God, sorry, that was awful. Still, I feel a bit better after it.’
Kate grinned. ‘We’d better get back. By the way, I’ve offered to do the accounts for one of Úna’s charities.’
‘Are you getting paid?’
‘No, it’s voluntary.’
‘That was generous of you.’ Jess stretched carefully, hoping Kate hadn’t felt pressured.
‘Simon mentioned it, and I thought it’d be good to get involved in something outside work.’
Kate’s phone rang and she checked the caller ID.
‘It’s Carl, he probably wants to talk to me about those figures I sent him yesterday. I’m going to run, see you guys tonight.’
Back at the office, Jess mulled over what Kate had said. Obviously, Kate was wrong, because she didn’t take Simon for granted. Except for that one night. Which didn’t count, because she knew it had been a mistake, and she’d regretted it ever since. But she also had to stop thinking about it and put it behind her.
Turning to a new page of an A4 notepad, she doodled a quick sketch of a castle, with a driveway, a river and trees. She’d loved art at school, and even though she’d decided against art college, doodling usually helped her to brainstorm.
The problem was this time it wasn’t working. Marketing Linford Castle should be child’s play. Even Kate thought so. Especially now it was to host a celebrity wedding. But even that didn’t distinguish Linford from other beautiful old castles, now high-grade hotels, that offered lavish, fairy-tale weddings.
She wondered if they’d ever be able to use its history to their advantage. To date, no matter how cleverly she’d tried to present it, the general public tended to zero in on Lady Helen Linford’s non-wedding in July 1937.
Jess added a little figure in a wedding dress and veil, running out of the castle. Helen Linford’s disappearance was still a mystery. On the morning of her wedding, her maid went to help the twenty-one-year-old get ready. When her mother went to look for her a while later, the wedding dress was still on the bed, and both Helen and her maid were gone. Neither was ever found. Despite the family’s attempts to pretend that Helen had been taken ill and sent to a sanatorium, rumours quickly spread that she and her maid hadfled the country.
Most people nowadays speculated that the two young women had fallen in love and had lived abroad as ‘companions’ for the rest of their lives. Either way, Lady Helen Linford was the castle’s infamous runaway bride, and the Linford family never had another wedding at the castle.
Jess’s phone rang and she clicked out of the file, swiping to answer Simon’s call. ‘Hi.’
‘How are you feeling, darling?’
She smiled. Simon rarely rang during work, so he’d obviously been worried about her. ‘Much better, thank you.’
‘Are you sure? Because if you’re still feeling a bit sick, we can always skip tonight. I’m sure Finn will understand.’
Jess swivelled her chair around to look out the window. There was no sign of the swans on the canal. ‘I’d feel bad, Simon. I think they need as much support as possible.’
‘Oh, okay.’ Simon sounded resigned. ‘The thing is, I was talking with Kate last night and she agrees that Mum and Pops will probably hate it. So, it’s better they give it a miss.’
How had Kate managed to get herself in the middle of this? Although, knowing Kate, she’d have simply been honest with Simon if he’d asked.
Jess’s stomach rumbled loudly, and she pressed cautiously on it, as she attempted to sound reasonable. ‘Your parents are grown-ups,Simon, you should let them decide. I have to go. I’ll see you this evening.’
Jess hung up before Simon could say anything else and put her phone in her desk drawer. The only upside of a dodgy stomach was that she couldn’t face chocolate. Her tummy gave another rumble, and she pushed away from her desk. She’d buy some plain crackers, make herself some tea and grab a quiet ten minutes.
***
‘Jess, are you sure this is the right place?’ Simon stumbled on the winding stairs that led to Theatre Underground on the Quays that Friday evening. ‘Ouch, Christ!’
Jess, who was walking in front of him, turned and peered back around the curve of the steps. ‘You all right?’
