The Little Vintage Carousel by the Sea: A gorgeously uplifting festive romance!. Jaimie Admans

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СКАЧАТЬ carousel.’ And the guy restoring it. Well, maybe not that forthright.

      ‘Did you get my text last night? I thought I’d better check to make sure I hadn’t bored you into a coma the night before.’

      ‘Yeah. Sorry, I’d gone to bed because I knew I’d have to get up early for the train, and I got your text this morning, but I didn’t answer because …’ Right, forthright. ‘I didn’t know how to say I was on my way here without sounding like I was stalking you.’

      ‘Well, I wasn’t joking when I asked you. I tried to pretend I was because it’s a bit weird to talk complete strangers into holidaying with you … I mean, not with me but in the same place I am …’ He twists one blackened finger around the other. ‘When I said I was going to stop making an idiot of myself earlier, I clearly meant now, not then. Now I’m going to stop making an idiot of myself. Just as soon as I finish the ice cream you’ve been forced to feed to me because I can’t get my hands clean.’

      I giggle again, and I really am going to have to stop all this nervous giggling, I’m even annoying myself, but the thought that he actually wanted me to come … that it wasn’t a joke … It’s making me feel all fluttery and light, like in the movies when you see the heroine twirling down the street in a floaty pink dress after a wonderful romantic date with a handsome man who’s too good to be true.

      I look over at Nathan again and his eyes meet mine and we both smile at the same time. Until he takes a bite out of the cornet and sends crumbs fluttering everywhere.

      ‘So, is “will you feed it to me” the worst chat-up line you’ve ever heard? Not that it was a chat-up line or anything – I am not interested in that kind of thing – I just meant it sounds like something a leery drunk in a pub would think was a clever chat-up line, doesn’t it?’

      ‘I don’t know, but “hold it and I’ll lick it like a dog” is right up there.’

      He laughs and groans at the same time. ‘Oh God, I hadn’t even thought of that one. See? I’m terrible at having conversations with people. I’m not even trying to chat you up and I’ve tried out the worst chat-up line you’ve ever heard in your life.’

      ‘Nah … A bloke outside the tube station told me he’d like to eat my ovaries once. Not quite sure what he expected the outcome to be.’

      Nathan puts a non-greasy wrist to his forehead and pretends to swoon. ‘Oh, finally, your prince has been found?’

      ‘Exactly. Now that’s setting the bar high for bad chat-up lines.’ I laugh. ‘I always wonder how many women he tried it on and if any of them ever said, “Oh, lovely, that sounds like a jolly good way to spend an afternoon.”’

      He dissolves into a fit of laughter and the fact that he’s nervous and giggly too makes me feel a bit more normal.

      ‘So what’s the worst chat-up line you’ve ever had then? It’s not some girl turning up on a beach and ramming an ice cream down your throat, is it?’

      ‘Are you kidding?’ He meets my eyes and raises both dark eyebrows. ‘This is the highlight of my day. No, my month. Although that’s a bit unfair because we’re only a week into June and I doubt anything will beat a beautiful girl feeding me a 99 this side of Christmas.’

      I blush because he called me beautiful. I’ve never been called that before. Daphne is beautiful. I’m just plain and ordinary, the kind of person who would never stand out in a crowd.

      He seems to realise his slip-up because he continues quickly. ‘I mean, no, I’ve never been chatted up.’

      ‘You’ve never been chatted up?’ I ask in disbelief. I know I don’t know him at all, but on face value, I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t chat him up.

      ‘I think I put out a bit of a “not interested” vibe. I’m quite boring and I’m not looking for a relationship so I don’t go out and meet people. I generally just work and spend my evenings collapsed on the sofa in front of Netflix.’

      He doesn’t put out a ‘not interested’ vibe to me. He seems warm, and friendly, and so approachable that I nearly broke the unwritten rule of London transport and spoke to a stranger on the tube.

      ‘Ditto. On all things.’ I make a point to emphasise the ‘all’ just in case he gets the mistaken impression that I am looking for a relationship because I most definitely am not. ‘And hooray for Netflix – my evenings would be empty without it.’

      ‘I would offer you a hooray for Netflix high five, but …’ He wiggles his greasy fingers in front of us. ‘I also fear a high five might give away how desperately uncool I am. No one high fives anymore, right?’

      I grin at his self-deprecating humour. In person, he’s even funnier than he was on the phone and just as easy to talk to, but I’m more self-conscious because I can’t hide how much he’s making me laugh, and I’m all too aware of vanilla ice cream slowly dripping down my fingers because I’m not eating my own ice cream fast enough, and I can’t remember the last time a man was more interesting than an ice cream. That just doesn’t happen, right?

      He uses his teeth to take the bottom of the cone out of my hand in one go, and I can tell he’s making an effort not to touch me, but this time his barely there stubble does brush against my fingers, making me shiver despite the warm sun.

      Somehow, he manages to fit the whole thing in his mouth at once even though it’s so big he can barely chew it.

      ‘Impressive,’ I say, unable to take my eyes off him.

      He laughs despite the mouthful and nearly chokes.

      ‘Why, thank you.’ He pretends to bow when he can finally speak again. ‘My ability to feed myself is second to none.’ He pauses for a second. ‘I say while someone else feeds me.’

      It makes me giggle again. I’ve got to stop this – the giggling is getting ridiculous.

      ‘Did you find the place all right?’ He says while I try to furtively lick melted ice cream off my fingers after finishing my own cornet.

      ‘Not really, but I thought I’d have the full Pearlholme experience and ask a stranger for directions. The bloke selling newspapers outside the train station?’

      ‘Yep, I asked him as well.’

      ‘So he said. You weren’t joking when you said everyone knows everything around here, were you?’

      ‘Told ya.’ He winks at me. ‘Where are you staying? It’s not The Shell Hotel, is it?’

      I roll my eyes. ‘Oh, come on. Why are you the third person to say that to me today?’

      He looks worried. ‘I take it you are?’

      ‘Of course I am. I’m starting to wonder if they’ve changed the standard greeting in Pearlholme from “hello” to “you’re not staying at The Shell Hotel, are you?” in a sinister voice. Let me guess, the newspaper guy and a woman outside the pub asked you the same thing?’

      ‘Actually, it was the newspaper guy and an old gent who started talking to me on the bus when I went into the next town.’

      ‘Oh, СКАЧАТЬ