Free The Catalyst by Angela Jardine Page A

him away. Once back in the kitchen he let go of her hand, turning away to stare silently through the grime of the windows at the overgrown shrubbery. She understood his rejection of her and left him to his thoughts.
    It had been wrong to come, there was still too much of the past here. They were here because of her and it made her feel guilty. He had suggested they come here because she had wanted to confide in him but now was hardly the time to tell him about her problems.
    ‘Shall we go back to town?’ She found she was whispering.
    ‘No … I’ll be okay … just give me a minute. I have to face this place sometime.’
    Finding an old newspaper on the kitchen table and a few sticks of kindling that must have been put to dry in the rusty oven of the old kitchen range, she thought about trying to light the fire. There were logs stacked on the hearth and despite the coldness of the room they seemed dry enough. Perhaps a fire might make the place seem more welcoming, more as it had been before his mother died.
    The initial blaze faltered and she propped an old coal shovel between the grate and the top of the fireplace to spread a sheet of newspaper against it. The flames roared into life as the draught pushed up from underneath, intensifying the heat until it lit the wood but, watching Jasper’s back as the fire blazed, she didn’t notice a large scorch mark appear on the paper in front of her. Suddenly aware of flames she hastily scrambled to get the burning paper onto the fire before she set fire to herself and the farm.
    The next instant Jasper was beside her, grabbing a kitchen chair and lifting it as if to smash it down on the floor and break it into little pieces.
    ‘Here, let’s burn this too … in fact, why don’t we just burn the whole sodding place down.’ His unexpected rage alarmed her and she rushed to soothe him.
    ‘Jasper, no!’
    She wrested the chair away from him and tried to calm him with a hand on his chest. She could feel the furious thudding of his heart beneath it before he pulled her towards him and clung tightly to her. They stood like that for a long time, each wrapped up in their own thoughts, almost unaware they held each other close, aware only of the comfort that contact afforded.
    Gradually the gloomy kitchen became transformed by the firelight and, as if in a trance, Jenny watched their combined shadow waver against the back wall of the kitchen. She waited until she could feel his anger had truly subsided before speaking.
    ‘Jazz, y’know … this place ... maybe you should get rid of it. It’s obviously far too painful for you to keep coming back here.’ Gently she pushed him away from her, holding him at arm’s length to look into his face.
    ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ He slumped down wearily into one of the battered old armchairs that stood either side of the fireplace. ‘I think maybe I’ve underestimated just how painful the memories were going to be. It just feels as if I’ve never been away.’ He paused as they both absorbed the truth of his statement. ‘And I can’t see Amanda ever wanting to come down here with me … it’s way too far from Harvey Nicks.’
    The attempted humour was to reassure Jenny. The shock he had seen on her face had upset him and he felt he needed to get back some control.
    ‘Amanda … that’s your partner’s name?’ she asked. He gave a brief nod. ‘Want to talk about her?’
    ‘Nope. I think it’s far more important that you should tell me why you wanted to talk to me alone.’
    She looked at him doubtfully, wavering against her own self-interest. Did she really want to lumber Jasper with the pain of her own life when he already had so much emotional stuff to deal with? You need help, an inner voice told her, Jasper is that help.
    ‘The man I live with ... Jimmy Fisher ... is an artist.’ She felt like she was starting some sort of group therapy. My name is Jennifer Lawrence and I’m a Jimmy Fisher addict, she thought