Page 46 of Breaking the Dark

SEBASTIAN HIMSELF GREETS Jessica at the door to his house that evening. He’s wearing a Nirvana T-shirt and jeans, and Jessica is taken aback by the fact that he is a full inch shorter than her. She thinks of the twins’ fine-boned mother with her tiny dolly feet, and she cannot fathom where those children got their height from.

“Good evening, Jessica!” he says, taking her hand into his and pumping it up and down twice. “Please excuse the chaos.” He leads her into a huge living room with four sofas in it and a fire burning behind a grate the size of a small car. “We’re renovating.”

Jessica glances around at her opulent surroundings and says, “Truly, I would happily swap you my entire apartment for the worst room in this house.”

“Oh, thank you. But it’s a huge job and I’m struggling to keep on top of it all. There’s always wind whistling through a window or rain pouring down the walls or something threatening to collapse in the night.” He smiles and heads toward a drink tray on a cabinet. “What can I get you? I have all the usual”—he waves his hand across a row of sparkling decanters—“or I can whip you up a spicy margarita?”

Jessica grimaces and Sebastian misreads her face and says, “Or wine? Beer? Tea?”

“Tea! Yes, tea. Thank you.”

Jessica hopes that she might finally get proper English tea and half expects Sebastian to ring a bell and for an old man to appear with a big silver tray, but instead he nods and says, “I’ll be back in a tick,” and disappears through a door.

He reappears a moment later with no tray, no teapot, just a big white mug, which he places in front of her. “Oh,” says Jessica, staring down into the circle of milky brown liquid. “Thank you.”

“So, you’re writing a novel,” Sebastian says, pouring himself a large scotch and bringing it to the sofa with him. “That’s very exciting. Tell me all about it.”

Sebastian is disarmingly pleasant, and Jessica feels strangely guilty to be playing him like this. But needs must, and she fixes him with a sincere look. “Well, there’s not a lot to tell yet. I’m calling this a research trip, but really, it’s more of an inspiration trip. I’m just taking a lot of photos and soaking up the feelings.”

“And why Essex? I mean, you’re a New Yorker, I hear?”

“Yes. I am.”

“So what on earth makes a former cop—?”

“Well, not a former cop, just a number cruncher.”

“But still, you worked in that environment, which must be a very particular environment, and then you chose to set a novel here.” He arcs his arm around the room, suggesting his living room, but meaning the village of Barton Wallop.

“What can I tell you. I had a dream.”

“You dreamed of Barton Wallop?”

“Yeah. Kind of. Or somewhere just like it. And I was reading about this house earlier, up at the historical place in the village? It’s got quite a colorful history, got me feeling super inspired, and then, like, ten minutes later, I get your invite to come visit. Perfect timing. Thank you so much.” She raises her mug of brown tea toward Sebastian, who raises his scotch back in return.

“You’re quite welcome,” he says. “I’m always keen to meet fellow writers.”

“So is it true, what they told me in the pub last night, that you published a novel yourself?”

“Yes! Yes, indeed I did! It was…well, let us say it did not bother the bestsellers in any way, shape, or form. But it was a great experience, and I’m always fantasizing about writing another one. But that will have to wait until I’ve got this money pit under control.” He smiles and Jessica smiles back.

“I hear you have children in New York,” she says.

“Yes, I do. Lark and Fox. Twins. Apples of my eye.”

“You must miss them?”

“Well, yes. I don’t see nearly enough of them, it’s true. But they were both here for the summer. Four weeks.”

“That must have been fun,” says Jessica. “How old are they?”

“Sixteen.”

“What kind of kids are they?”

“Oh, they’re great kids. Very cool. Too cool for school. But fun as well. Here…”

He pulls out his phone and swipes the screen a few times before showing his camera roll to Jessica. “These are from the summer.”

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