‘Watermelon gazpacho. I thought it’d be refreshing on a day like this.’
Mind you, the air conditioning seemed set to arctic, so maybe something hotter might have been a better choice.
‘Gazpacho? Sounds like a Mexican bandit. “My name is Gazpacho. You knew my father. Prepare to die.”’
Jenna laughed at his hammy Spanish accent.
‘Don’t you like it? I can ask for more bread, if you’d rather.’
‘No, it’s all right. Just . . . a bit weird.’ He spooned some up, nodding his head as he swallowed.
‘There’s so much I want to show you,’ said Jenna. ‘So many lovely things in this world. Beautiful places to visit . . .’
‘Where you get mobbed,’ finished Jason wryly.
‘Well, some of them are private,’ she said. ‘But . . .’ She sighed.
‘Yeah, well, I want to earn some money of my own before we start jet-setting anyway,’ he said, swirling his spoon about in his soup.
‘You will,’ Jenna insisted gently. ‘But it might take some time, and initially cost us more than we make. But you’ve got my services and contacts for free, and that will be worth thousands. We need to organise the exhibition first, and then—’
‘No,’ he cut in, rather harshly, so that Jenna was shocked into silence. ‘No, Jen, you don’t get what I’m saying. I need to earn some money now. I can’t go on living off you. I’m not a ponce.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think of you like that! God!’
‘You might not, but everyone else will. All they see is me, living the life of Riley, whoever he was, in your house, in your bed, on your cash. I’m not going to be your kept man. It was different when I had no choice. But I’ve got a choice now, and I’m going to work for a living.’
‘Why change the habit of a lifetime?’ said Jenna, stung by shock. She regretted the remark before it was out of her mouth.
He pushed away the gazpacho half-eaten and left the restaurant.
Jenna, swearing under her breath, more at herself than him, followed him to their room.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, slipping through the door after him. ‘All right? It just came out because you were being stroppy and I don’t really see why it’s a problem that your future brilliant career is funded by my money – just to start with. All the great artists had a patron, pretty much. It’s been that way throughout history.’
‘I’m not all the great artists,’ said Jason, standing by the picture window, looking down on London at sunset. ‘I’m Jason Watson. I’ve done nothing all my life and I think it’s time I changed that.’ He turned to face her. ‘It hurt me, what you said, because it’s true, Jen. I’ve spent twenty-eight years arsing around on benefits because I was scared to do anything with my life. I was scared. I’m not the kind of person who makes it. I’m not . . .’
He broke off and Jenna rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and crushing him to her.
‘It’s OK. Everything’s going to be OK. Come and sit down. Let’s have a drink.’
The suite contained a huge cream corner sofa, on which they settled with a bottle of wine from the minibar and two glasses.
Jason nibbled at his fingernails while she poured, staring moodily towards the panoramic view outside.
‘I could paint that,’ he said. ‘That’s just about the best view I’ve ever seen. So much life, so much going on. I could just stand looking at it for hours.’
Jenna smiled and handed him his glass. ‘That’s London,’ she said. ‘My first days here I was overwhelmed. I almost couldn’t face it. So much to take in all at once.’
‘Do people get used to it?’ he said. ‘Did you?’
‘I got used to it. And then, after that, every other place seemed incredibly, frustratingly slow. Until I went to LA. You become attuned to fast living, infinite choice, constant change. I never, ever thought I’d find myself back in Bledburn. I guess I had to crash for that to happen.’
‘Crash? You mean, the thing with Deano?’
‘The thing with Deano, yeah, and . . . just generally. I was so close to breakdown, Jason. I was this far away from it.’ She showed him her finger and thumb, almost touching. ‘I knew something bad was coming. I jumped before it jumped on me.’
‘Like, mental illness or something?’