Jago Rackham and Lowena Hearn’s gothic getaway

East End power couple Jago Rackham and Lowena Hearn are posing for selfies by the ancient rock formations of Bridestones Moor. Occasionally, they peck one another on the lips, giggling and whispering sweet nothings. In front of them, Yorkshire stretches on for miles, obscured by fog. You’d recognise the dramatic location: it’s where Cathy Earnshaw is caught (cough, cough) off guard by Heathcliff in Emerald Fennell’s new ​“Wuthering Heights”, which is in cinemas now.

Despite the pair’s usual programming of Sessions Arts Club dinners and esoteric private views, these surroundings are anything but unfamiliar. Jago and Lowena both grew up in the countryside of Devon, making them a natural fit for a rural – if not a little forlorn – staycay in the country’s heartlands. (If you’re yearning for the moors, you can take a trip on Airbnb too.)

For context, Jago and Lowena are a constant in London’s fine art and food circles. Jago even has a pub named after him in Dalston. You might have caught them skulking in the back of Charles Jeffrey’s Loverboy parties way back in the early teenies. These days, if they’re not rubbing shoulders with bestie, artist Issy Wood, or fawning over their cat, Andromeda (who walked for Dilara Findikoglu), they’re documenting their shoestring snobbery in real time.

The same approach applies in the South Pennines. As Lowena mews in a coquettish Simone Rocha frock, Jago appears deep in pontification, dressed in a hardy natural-fabric blazer and trouser combo. Their Wellingtons match. On the trip, they make stops everywhere from Stoodley Pike’s Grade-II-listed spike monument (also in the film) through to the Brontë Parsonage, a museum of the Wuthering author Emily Brontë’s family home in Haworth. Amongst a bevvy of locations, they also stop by Holdsworth House – a Jacobean manor where Margot and Jacob stayed during filming of the new filmic adaptation – for afternoon tea and a tour of Cathy’s trippy bedroom, as recreated by Airbnb. Designed with veiny walls and a plaited headboard, it mimics Cathy’s complexion and even has her ​“birthmark” on the wall.

Jago and Lowena soak up the gothic architecture, grazing in old country pubs and decking their home for the week – Cobble House, a 19^th-century cottage equipped with a logburner – with secondhand finds, such as broderie anglaise table cloths and clay plates. Fresh produce is in the fridge, picked up in Hebden Bridge. Jeff, the cottage’s Airbnb host, has left them some firewood, which gets used up sharpish after long days hiking in the chilly Calder Valley. He recommends plenty of pit-stops, too: ​“Hebden is great for wandering. The canal walk is lovely; especially if it’s a clear winter day. Go all the way to the Stubbing Wharf pub, made famous by [poet and lover to Sylvia Plath] Ted Hughes – he wrote a poem about it.” Amongst all, Jago gets plenty of use from the kitchen, where he prepares a hearty dinner for two.

Like Cathy and Heathcliff (but with a happy ending), Jago and Lowena are childhood sweethearts, together since age 13. Their love for madcap interiors and collectables quickly cemented their bond. ​“We went to school in a town that used to have loads of antique shops that we’d go to on our breaks,” remembers Jago. ​“Touching and feeling those things was a good way of understanding old objects.” Jago sees their closed-in, pre-social-media upbringing (“there was Myspace and stuff”) as a pivotal period in building their signature world – think feral, bohemian, romantic. Sure, it was stifling coming of age in a 400-person village, but ​“I think that it meant that Lowena and I had to develop our own ways of thinking. We were just by ourselves.”

Lowena comes from a family of artists and started life in Bodmin Moor, Cornwall. At age two, she moved to San Francisco with her mother, Lyalya Horsky, who studied at the legendary and now-defunct art institute. Before Jago came into the picture, Lowena also lived with Horsky in a Californian commune. Eventually, she and her mother returned to the UK’s countryside. Merging her practice as a sculptor, painter and highly successful CSM dropout – she’s shown work with The Approach and Kupfer, and been snapped by Ryan McGinley and Sharna Osborne – with a singular sense of style, Lowena responds to her surroundings with acute sensitivity. Local flowers and hangings are meticulously draped across the cottage, and every snapshot this week is executed with an air of theatricality. ​“It’s really important that everything I do is part of [a] world – dressing included,” she says, content with the mud climbing up her designer dress. ​“I find it hard to see painting or sculpture as this other, separate thing,” she adds, elaborating on her space-making tendencies.

She and Jago certainly look the part. But their literary musings? Bang on. Below, are some pithy notes from their travels in Yorkshire. Margot and Jacob, you’ve got competition.

LH: ​“Arriving in Hebden [Bridge], off the busy train, was like stepping back in time – all heavy stones and smiling people.”

JR: ​“Lo’ prancing about in front of the [cottage’s] fire.”

LH: ​“I love baths. When I was a teenager my friends used to come to my house and chat to me while I was in the bath.” [This one’s inside the Airbnb cottage.]

JR: ​“Me stuffing my face [with afternoon tea at Holdsworth House]. Lo’ looking beautiful. It was ever thus.”

LH: ​“An assault of sweet things.”

JR: ​“Examining the library [in the Brontë Parsonage].

JR: ​“When I see 18^th-century newspapers, I can only feel glad the newspapers I write for have bigger print.”

LH: ​“Dream doorway. One day? Probably not…”

JR: ​“Lo’ doing her face in a room [that has replicated] Margot Robbie’s ​‘skin’… something there for the culture.”

JR: ​“Me looking a bit like I’m going to eat Lowena.”

JR: ​“You can’t see it, but I was explaining how canal locks worked to Lo’ here, at great length…”

JR: ​“A friendly Dales Pony’s.”

LH: ​“I took my coat off soon after – [I got] hot.”

LH: ​“It was so misty that we couldn’t see these stones until they were right in front of us. And then they loomed out, mystic.”

JR: ​“Shock and awe at Stoodley Pike! Again, near obscured by the mist. Ghostly. Like someone’s imagination.”

LH: ​“Sparse flowers [back at the cottage] to reflect the moorland.”

LH: ​“I think red meat is the most romantic [food] – there’s something visceral about the blood taste.