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

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СКАЧАТЬ in it, a tiny noodle of grease appearing in its wake.

      He wipes it on the cloth. ‘We’ve got fantastic gloves that are like a second skin, but nowt’s as good as actually feeling something this old with your fingers. I think you can almost feel the years that have passed.’ He rubs the bearing with the cloth and then shoves it quickly back into his pocket, suddenly seeming embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I’m sure you’re not even vaguely interested in my metal bits.’

      ‘No, I am, it’s fascinating. I love carousels but I’ve never thought about how they work, and I’ve definitely never met anyone who does something so interesting before.’

      ‘Ah, me and the word “interesting” don’t belong in a sentence together. You just don’t know me well enough yet.’

      There’s that ‘yet’ again. The butterflies that haven’t left my stomach since the train the other morning take off in another storm of fluttering.

      ‘And I am sorry about the mess.’ He holds his hands out in front of him and wiggles his fingers again. ‘Modern grease tends to come off with wet wipes. The old stuff that’s in this is like tar – they don’t make it like this anymore.’

      I look behind us at the tent. ‘How old is it then?’

      ‘Oh, I wish I knew.’ His face lights up, making laughter lines crinkle around his eyes again. ‘Usually they’re emblazoned with the name of the maker and the date, but this one isn’t. I can vaguely date it because the horses are solid wood, anything from the 1930s or Forties would’ve been aluminium, and it changed to fibreglass in the Fifties, but only pre-1930 would’ve been made solely of wood, so it’s definitely at least that old, but from the style, the trappings and just the way it’s carved … I’d say it’s older than that, the late 1800s to the turn of the century. It matches what you would’ve seen at that time, but it’s nothing like a commercial carousel, and it’s definitely never had commercial use— Sorry, I’m rambling. Simple answer: late Victorian era.’

      ‘Oh, please, ramble away, it’s fascinating.’

      ‘You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that, but fascinating is code for, “When will the boring bastard shut up? Oh God, is he still going? Kill me now”, usually accompanied by the distorted facial expressions of trying to hide a yawn.’

      It makes me laugh even though it probably shouldn’t. He gives me a smile when I meet his eyes, but I get the feeling that it covers something deeper. ‘I used to love going on these when I was little. There was one on the seafront where we went every summer and I always went on the same horse. Mum used to call it “my” horse.’

      ‘Me too. My nan and granddad used to take my brother and me for days out by the seaside when I was young and the carousel was the only thing my nan was brave enough to go on. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to fixing them … but seriously, everyone in my life knows better than to ask me questions about work because I get overexcited talking about it.’

      I tuck a leg under my thigh and turn towards him, trying to figure out why anyone would want him to shut up. ‘Do you know the film Carousel?’

      ‘The old Rodgers and Hammerstein musical from before The Sound of Music? The one that “You’ll Never Walk Alone” comes from and no one knows that?’

      I’m smiling again as I nod. ‘It’s one of my favourite films.’

      He screws his face up. ‘It’s about a dead guy who hits his wife and then gets a chance to go back to earth and make amends so he hits his daughter instead.’

      ‘It’s about a man who died before he could bring himself to tell his wife that he loved her because he thought she deserved better than him, when all she really wanted was for him to realise that he was good enough and always had been.’

      He hums the chorus of ‘If I Loved You’. ‘I’ve got about six copies on DVD. When you work on carousels, it’s a go-to present every Christmas and birthday regardless of the fact someone “goes to” it every year. It’s not exactly my favourite film but it has a certain charm.’

      ‘My best friend thinks I’m nuts for loving it.’

      ‘I like it because films were magical back then. Every movie meant something; they weren’t the action-packed blockbusters that are just like every other one of the hundred action-packed blockbusters that come out each week. They were a real experience to go and see. I love watching old films because they’re such a snapshot of times gone by.’

      I grin at him again and wave towards the giant structure behind me. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I saw all those photos of wooden horses on your phone. I mean, what are the chances?’

      When he smiles this time, I can see the tension drain from his shoulders. ‘Do you want to have a look? It’s mostly in pieces and a total mess, but if you wanted …’

      ‘I’d love to,’ I say, loving the way the lip he was biting as he asked spreads instantly into a wide smile.

      He jumps to his feet and holds a hand out to pull me up and I’m just about to slip mine into it when I look up and realise what I’m doing. ‘Better not, thanks.’

      He groans and rips his hand away, swiftly hiding them both behind his back. ‘I don’t know what’s got into me today. I keep wanting to explain that I’m not usually this much of an idiot, but I’ve needed to say it about ten times so far and every time just proves the point.’

      ‘You’re great,’ I say and then blush furiously. There’s forthright and there’s forthright. ‘I mean, this whole place is great, the beach, the carousel, the ice cream. I’m glad I came.’ I pretend to focus on getting to my feet and pulling the legs of my capri trousers down where they’ve ridden up my thick calves so I don’t have to look at his gorgeous face.

      My sandals tap on the wooden walkway as I follow him around the side of the tent and through a gap where the material is pulled aside.

      ‘Welcome to my humble abode,’ he says, and I smile at the way he drops the ‘h’. I love a Yorkshire accent.

      ‘Wow.’ I can’t help the intake of breath as I look around, even though it’s no more than the skeleton of a carousel at the moment. There’s a tall, thick pole in the centre, supported by diagonal posts, with rods extending out from the top of it like the arms of an umbrella. A rusty-looking engine is next to it, and an old pipe organ, but all the horses are stacked on the floor, and there are metal bars lying all over the place, and various piles of metal bits like the one Nathan showed me. ‘You did all this by yourself?’

      ‘What, took it apart?’ He continues when I nod. ‘That’s my job. I mean, the owner got the platform built and the tent’s been up for protection since he bought it, but my job is to strip carousels, fix them, and rebuild them. You can get them apart in half a day if you know what you’re doing.’

      ‘Where did it come from?’

      ‘That’s the most interesting part. No one knows. The guy who owns the fish and chip shop on the promenade is some millionaire fish and chip mogul. He won it in a blind auction and got planning permission to install it on the beach. Apparently he’s going to do free rides for everyone who buys food there or something.’

      ‘A millionaire fish and chip shop mogul … It’s not Ian Beale, is it?’

      ‘An СКАЧАТЬ