Chapter 14

When she got back to the B&B, Jess was alone at last in her own little room. But, disaster! She was right out of credit on her mobile. She couldn’t send Fred a furious text about that Rosie gag. If it was a gag. Being apart like this really sucked.

All night Jess tossed and turned. She hardly managed to sleep at all, and when she did, Fred was misbehaving in her dreams with whole hockey teams. Eventually dawn came, and Jess fell into a deep sleep. And then Mum knocked on her door and she had to drag herself up because it was time for breakfast, even though it still felt like the middle of the night.

Jess slouched down to the dining room like a zombie out of one of those old black and white movies. She was pretty black and white, herself. Her mood was dark and her face was pale and ghastly. She had meant to wake up early and rush out and buy some more credit for her phone, but of course she had failed dismally.

‘Jess!’ said Granny, ‘you look awful! What’s wrong?’

‘Couldn’t sleep,’ said Jess, sitting down.

‘Never mind, dear,’ said Granny, patting her hand. ‘Have some bacon and eggs. That’ll soon put you right.’

Granny squeezed her hand and stroked her hair. It was sweet of her, but kind of irritating as well. Jess declined the bacon and eggs. For the first time on the whole trip, she didn’t feel very hungry. She was sure bacon and eggs would taste of dust and ashes.

Speaking of dust and ashes, thank goodness Granny had left Grandpa’s urn upstairs this time. One does not want to see the mortal remains of one’s grandparent gracing the breakfast table.

‘Just toast will do today,’ Jess said sadly.

‘Right,’ said Jess’s mum, pouring out the tea with a secret smile which Jess just knew had something to do with history. Her heart would’ve sunk if it hadn’t already been reposing on the inky depths of the ocean floor. ‘Today’s a real highlight of our trip,’ Mum went on. ‘We’re going to see somebody’s grave.’

Oh yippee, thought Jess. Terrific. A grave. How life-enhancing. How delightful. I might have known it.

‘A grave?’ said Granny, brightening visibly. ‘Whose?’

‘Thomas Hardy’s,’ said Mum with an air of triumph. ‘Now, Jess, do you know anything about him?’

Jess was silent. Even if she had known all there was to know about Thomas Hardy, she wouldn’t have said a word. Even if she had babysat for him and eaten his toast and read his private letters.

‘Haven’t a clue,’ she croaked. ‘Pass the marmalade, please, Granny. Anyone got a headache pill?’ Perhaps if her mum thought she was ill, she would hold back on the history. Vain hope.

‘Thomas Hardy wrote a lot of novels, all set down here in Dorset,’ said Mum, with ridiculous excitement, as if she’d just found a winning lottery ticket. ‘He had quite a sad life, really.’

So what else is new? thought Jess. Everyone on this trip so far had had a tragic life. And it looked as if Jess’s was going to be no exception.

‘He married a woman called Emma, but he was so busy that he took her for granted, and then suddenly she died, and he was heartbroken. He felt so guilty that he hadn’t appreciated her enough, and he wrote loads of love poems to her after her death.’

Jess was quite struck with this idea. She made plans to die immediately, so that Fred would be convulsed with guilt and visit her tomb daily with a freshly written sonnet. And he would neglect his personal appearance, of course, even more than usual. Dramatically. Mushrooms would grow out of his ears. No girl would ever look at him again. And, of course, he would never look at another girl.

‘Anyway,’ said Mum, ‘when he died, he left instructions that his heart was to be removed and buried in his first wife’s grave.’

‘Gross!’ screamed Jess.

‘What did they do with the rest of him?’ asked Granny.

‘The rest of him was buried in Westminster Abbey. In Poets’ Corner.’

‘How bizarre,’ said Jess.

‘Did you say his first wife’s grave?’ asked Granny, with a Miss Marple-like pounce.

‘Oh yes. He did eventually marry again.’

‘What, he married again, but he asked for his heart to be buried with his first wife?’ said Jess.

‘Yes. Exactly.’

‘Weird,’ said Jess. What sort of second wife would put up with that kind of thing? If Fred ever told her he wanted his heart to be buried with a previous girlfriend, Jess would personally eat it with barbecue sauce and fries.

‘Oh, look!’ said Granny. ‘The sun’s just come out! It’s going to be another lovely day!’

Huh! Granny! What did she know? Nothing.