Page 22 of The Spark

‘Theme-y. Exactly. I was worried about that.’

‘But you can nod to it. Don’t be afraid of vintage, but don’t flood the place with it either, you know? You could go for some reworked industrial pieces, which will give you enough of a modern twist.’

He is frowning, nodding. ‘Reworked pieces. Yes.’

I press my palm against a warm patch of sunlit brickwork. ‘And brick’s a gift, actually. It can carry bright colours really well, so don’t be afraid to be bold. It’s all quite monochrome in here. Plus, brass and steel always make a good textural contrast to brickwork, which you could achieve with lamps or picture frames.’ I glance at him, and he’s smiling. ‘What?’ I say, smiling uncertainly back at him.

‘No, it’s...’ He shakes his head. ‘I love how passionate you are. Carry on.’

‘Well, I always advise clients to experiment with texture – if you use different materials, it can help the place to feel cosy, even though it’s a big space.’ I spin round, taking in the scale of the room again. ‘So, you could use curtains in here, instead of blinds, for example. Oh, and you need a few lamps, to create a softer ambiance... and you could actually ask Parveen for ideas about art. She’s kind of our in-house expert.’

‘I could just buy more Hopper.’

I smile. ‘Definitely not. That much I do know. You need to mix it up.’

Ash walks over to the pendant lampshades suspended over the table and kitchen area. They’re a strange shade of bottle green that’s far too heavy for the airy space. ‘What about these?’

‘I’d actually recommend glass.’

‘The filament-style ones? I quite like those.’

I shake my head. ‘Too much. I’ll find you some good ones.’

He tops up our coffees and we go outside onto the balcony. The punchy scent of river water is drifting up towards us, mingled with the fragrance of blossom.

‘So, where did you live before this?’ I ask.

‘Actually, for a while... Airbnbs. Friends’ sofas. My parents’ place, for a few months.’ He lets out a breath. ‘My girlfriend and I were sharing a place together, but...’

I wait for the pause to unfold.

‘I found out... she’d been seeing someone else.’

‘I’m sorry. How long had you been—’

‘Two years. Missed all the signs.’ He shakes his head, sips his coffee. ‘How about you? Do you... live with anyone?’

‘No. I’ve... been focusing on work recently, really. I broke up with someone last year.’ I throw him a look of solidarity. ‘He was seeing a friend of mine, I think. They’re getting married now. He rang me a couple of weeks back, to tell me.’

Ash looks appalled. ‘God. That’s brutal. At least Tabitha had the decency to slink off and never contact me again.’

‘It’s fine,’ I assure him, with a smile. ‘I don’t think by the end I was really in love with him anyway.’

And then – maybe it is something about the way Ash returns my smile, that kilowatt gaze of his, that makes my mind pivot back to Jamie. I still can’t work out why Ash resembles him so closely. Is it linked to the accident, his lightning strike? I don’t see how it can be, and I have no idea yet how the dots join up. But something about it all is nagging at me. The personality change he says he went through.

‘Can I ask you something? If you don’t mind talking about it.’

‘Sure.’

I try not to picture Jamie, his twisted body in the road, being pummelled by falling rain. ‘What... happened on the night of your accident?’

He sips his coffee, takes a few moments to answer. ‘I don’t have massively clear memories of it, actually. But from what I can remember, and the stuff I’ve been told, it was this insane weather, like... the most apocalyptic storm you’ve ever seen. And I was at a mate’s flat, and he had this little balcony, and being the idiot I was, I thought I’d go outside and—’ He breaks off, shakes his head. ‘Actually, I honestly don’t know what I was doing. Squaring up to the lightning, or something.’

Despite myself, I smile. ‘Wow. Picking a fight with a thunderstorm?’

‘Like I said. I was an idiot back then. Anyway, that was when... I was hit.’

‘What did it feel like?’

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