Chapter 8.

Jess hadn’t understood a word from the moment Anna took her arm. Anna’s fingers had slipped around her bicep and inadvertently stroked the side of her breast. The tingles that shot through her body rendered Jess immobile and her brain inert, in the best possible way.

Unexpected physical contact sometimes made Jess flinch, but this she welcomed. Dozy and relaxed in the warm sunshine and balm of Anna’s company, a glow thrummed through her body and if an inane smile spread across her face, then that couldn’t be helped. Such a small, innocent gesture, and Jess was captivated in this moment of accidental intimacy.

She stood snug next to Anna, hoping she would stay and keep the gap between them cosy. She tried, very hard indeed, to concentrate on the enviable London view that Anna presented – grand terraces, the park beyond, trees rich with autumn hues and the bright green jewel of a hill beyond that. But all she wanted was to take in Anna. She turned her head with the slow awkwardness of someone attempting the surreptitious to peek at her companion. The sunlight reflected off Anna’s hair in a multitude of colours. Golds glistened, subtle reds glowed and darker blonds contrasted with her natural highlights.

Anna had nice eyebrows. The thought tickled Jess. How often did she notice eyebrows? They were smooth and the colour of golden straw, the fine tips fading to nothing in the bright sunshine and a satisfying arc making them expressive. She couldn’t see Anna’s eyes clearly from this angle, but she could admire that sprinkle of freckles again across her nose and the plump lips that were open as if on the verge of speaking.

“So,” came Anna’s voice. And what a blissful lazy soothing sound it was. Jess may have literally sighed, before realising she was required to be present in a conversation.

“So?” What had she missed?

Those captivating lips curled in a smile. “Would you like breakfast?”

“Oh. Yes. Great. Please,” Jess replied. Maybe she hadn’t missed anything. Not any words at least.

Anna continued her gaze through the window, her amusement seeming to intensify.

“Perhaps you’d like to make yourself comfortable while I cook the pancakes. I’m not a fast cook I’m afraid, so make yourself at home.”

“Yeah. OK.” Jess still had the feeling she’d missed something. “But do you need some help? I mean if you’re slow?”

“Thank you,” Anna said. “The batter’s all made and everything’s on the table.”

Jess turned to see the island laid out with crockery, cutlery, sauces and fruits. She hadn’t noticed a thing when she stepped in the room. Anna had commanded every ounce of her attention.

“Oh, I see,” she said, grateful that her skin tone hid much of the blush that was warming her neck.

“But,” Anna looked over her shoulder, “you could pour the coffee. The cafetière’s ready on the top. I like mine with milk please.”

“Great,” Jess said, bouncing on her feet. “I’m on it.”

She didn’t have to ask for anything. The graded pantone mugs were hanging above the kettle. “Sugar, sugar,” she muttered, but that was in a scarlet storage pot with “sugar” written in enormous letters. Teaspoons were in a cutlery drawer beneath, as convenient as you’d expect in this well-ordered flat.

She dug out two heaped spoons of demerara sugar and dumped them in a mug, then glanced towards Anna beside her, warming a frying pan on the hob.

“I’ll eat you out of house and home when it comes to sugar,” Jess said. “I blame my dad.”

Anna raised an eyebrow.

“He’s a tall skinny bloke and been an electrician all his life. I swear he’s powered by sugary brews alone. He switched to decaf though so his heart rate doesn’t go through the roof.”

“Do you take after him?” Anna said, swirling a melting knob of butter carefully around the pan with a wooden spatula, not a careless movement indulged. She was always so elegant.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jess said, “That’s where I get my height from at least. The padding,” she slapped her thigh, “that’s all my mom’s side of the family. Here.” She pulled her dead phone from her pocket and pinched out a photo that was tucked inside the case.

“My nan gave me a print of the last family photo,” Jess explained, “so I don’t have to get my ‘bloody phone out’, as she says, to see her ‘beautiful face’, as she also says.” And Jess was glad of it now. She didn’t want to see the onslaught of notifications that she knew was imminent if she switched on her mobile.

Jess held the print in front of Anna then hesitated. “I don’t show anyone anymore.”

She hadn’t brought this picture out in a long time. She’d stopped talking about her family – too many anecdotes turned up in the media one way or another and she didn’t want them used as fodder for articles. But that was another part of herself she’d sacrificed. She clammed up whenever her family arose naturally in conversation and their powerful presence in her life dimmed. The realisation made her feel thinner and unsubstantial. She wanted to share this with Anna, this precious nugget of the real Jess.

She peeked up at Anna and found her bright blue eyes attentive. “I’d love to see,” Anna murmured, “if you want to show me,” and she stepped closer so that her thigh gently nudged into Jess's and she felt surrounded and bathed in Anna’s presence.

There they were again, in another accidental moment of intimacy, not just physical but where Jess felt like she was letting in another soul.

“Tell me about them?” Anna said, her voice quieter.

“So.” Jess engaged her brain. “So there’s Mom here.” She pointed to the quiet black lady with a large impact on Jess's life, although physically nearly a foot shorter. Eyes that didn’t miss a thing. Hair gloriously braided and beaded. She was at the end of the row of family in the garden in their village home. The leaves were gone for winter and the family wrapped up in scarves and new woollen jumpers.

“It was taken at Christmas, although not last Christmas.” Or in fact the one before. “Too busy last year,” Jess added soberly. “Then this lady,” she said brightening, “this is my Nan. The spitting image of my mom, but with the gift of the gab.”

White streaks smoked through a mass of black curls, and Nan was always a reminder of what lay in store for Jess's mother.

“Then me of course.” Jess pointed to the middle. “Then the skinny white dude is Dad,” the only one who matched Jess's height, “and this scrawny git is my little brother who’s pissed off that he’s not as tall as me, even though he’s fourteen.”

Oh god he might be now, she suddenly thought. And a coolness swept through her as she realised how much he’d likely changed since she’d last been home.

“Where are they? Where’s home?” Anna asked.

“Middle of nowhere in the middle of England.” Jess laughed. “Seriously. South of Birmingham. Nowhere tourists would go. Just fields, woods and villages of old brick cottages and not much else.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is,” Jess said. And a longing for both family and the ordinary sat heavy in her heart. “It is.”

Then she looked at Anna, who’d started to carefully ladle mixture into the pan, swirling the batter round into pools of pancakes so equal that Jess couldn’t have done it better with the aid of a ruler.

This had the magic of the ordinary too, a treat breakfast in a real home in the company of someone who didn’t know her from Eve. Jess sighed watching bubbles form on the surface of the pancakes and again when Anna flipped them over perfectly golden.

“Those look wonderful,” Jess said.

“Shouldn’t be long,” Anna replied. “Sorry, I did warn you I was slow. But speaking of slow, how about that coffee?”

“Ha! Yes.” Jess shone an apologetic grin at Anna. “Milk next. So fridge…?”

A turn to the left. Jess didn’t need to take a step, she simply swivelled round. She opened the larder fridge door to the most systematised sight. Rows upon rows of Tupperware of every colour. Little boxes on the top shelf of butter and cheese. Larger boxes containing small yogurts. Three containers the next shelf down for strawberries, apples and grapes in different states. The same meticulous order applied to a shelf of pickles and jars. Even the bottles and cartons in the fridge door had stickers on, for a reason Jess couldn’t fathom, but knew would be logical in a way beyond her.

“Jesus. Do you alphabetise the contents of your fridge too?”

It wasn’t considered, and it wasn’t subtle, but this was a whole new level of regulation and Jess couldn’t have held back if she’d tried.

It was fortunate that Anna burst out laughing, and when Jess turned Anna was pinching her lips together.

“Which relative do you get your tact from?” she said.

Jess grinned. “My nan.”

“The current milk is closest,” Anna said, her smile irrepressible. “Pancakes are ready.”

Until the pile of pancakes was laid in front of her, steam rising in a fragrant swirl, Jess hadn’t realised how hungry she was. She’d plonked herself on a stool opposite Anna and didn’t wait to be invited to start. She squirted cream in a fluffy nest then liberally spiralled chocolate sauce on top.

“This is amazing.”

“Tuck in,” Anna said, the pinch in the side of her mouth poorly hiding her amusement again.

Warm buttery pancakes with silky cream and velvety chocolate melted in her mouth. Jess audibly hummed this time. Several bites in she managed to mumble through a divine mouthful, “This is delicious.”

Anna rested her elbows on the table, her chin elegantly propped on her entwined fingers.

“And which relative is responsible for your eating habits?” she said, a plummy accent coming to the fore.

Jess was unapologetic. “That’s all my own. I’m going to blame that on having to work out for two hours a day, several months of the year.”

Anna’s brow pinched in a frown. It was a revealing detail and they both seemed to know it. Jess stared at Anna afraid of what she might have given away. Neither moved, but unlike Jess, Anna was the epitome of tact. Not a word escaped her.

Jess slowly put down her cutlery, the clatter on the plate deafening in the silence. Where could she start with this?

“Your earring,” Anna said.

“Sorry?” Jess replied. Anna was staring to the side of her face.

“Don’t move. Your earring’s coming out.” Anna slid off her seat. “If it falls, you’ll lose it down the floorboards.”

Before Jess could react, Anna had leant forward with her thighs pressed into Jess's and reached up to cup her hand beneath her ear. The warmth of her body this close was difficult to ignore. Jess could feel the intimacy once again. Anna’s breath on her face, the heat of her body over hers, her fingertip delicate on her earlobe. Jess swallowed, acutely aware of Anna’s touch. Such a tender fragile moment, the sensation of Anna’s skin at that tiny point of contact. Her whole body thrummed alert at that sensitive nakedness and the thrill radiated down her neck.

Anna removed her earring, the slight tug on Jess's earlobe exquisite.

“There,” Anna said, offering the gold ring in her palm. She stood, still snug against Jess's thigh, very much in her personal space. Jess was aware of her own breathing, deeper and slow, her chest rising in the small space between them, almost touching.

“Thank you,” Jess said quietly. She took a moment or two to meet Anna’s gaze.

“Sorry,” Anna whispered, blinking over those startling blue eyes. “I’m naturally a physical person, although I understand that not everyone is comfortable with that. When I’m feeling confident I tend to relax into my old ways. Tell me if I overstep the mark.”

Would kissing her be overstepping the mark? Would Jess slipping her hand behind Anna’s back and pulling their bodies close be inappropriate? She couldn’t speak.