by Dunn, Matt
‘This was your idea, remember?’ he shouted, above the screaming that was coming from the other people on the ride. And, to her embarrassment, from Lisa herself.
‘I didn’t think . . .’ She clamped her mouth shut as their plane suddenly spun violently upside down, wondering why on earth people paid for this. She shut her eyes, hoping it’d make the spinning seem less frantic, but it only seemed to make her dizzier. ‘Oh god, oh god, oh god!’ she squeaked, then she felt Simon reach for her hand and she squeezed his gratefully.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Make it stop!’
‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘You’ll just have to see it through to the end. A bit like I’m doing as regards this date.’
Lisa would have shot him a withering look if she’d been brave enough to open her eyes. ‘I want to get off!’
‘Well, you can’t. So think about something else.’
‘That’s helpful!’ she said, doing her best to convey the exact opposite with her tone. ‘And how, exactly, when I’m being thrown about like a boat in a storm?’
‘Maybe we should have stayed in the harbour?’
Lisa detected a trace of irony in Simon’s voice, so she squeezed his hand a little more tightly than perhaps was pleasant, for throwing her earlier ‘sailing boat’ analogy back in her face. His grip was firm, she noticed, and when she dared to sneak a quick peek at him, he looked like he was . . . well, ‘enjoying the ride’ would be over-egging it a bit. But for the first time since they’d met, he at least seemed to be a little less tense.
Eventually, mercifully, after another thirty seconds or so (even though it felt like a lifetime), the ride began to slow down, the planes returned to the horizontal and Lisa opened her eyes. Her breathing was just about normal again when she heard Simon clearing his throat beside her.
‘What?’
‘You’re still, you know . . .’
Lisa followed his gaze and saw she still had a rather firm grip on his fingers. ‘Oh. Right.’ She let go of him, feeling a little guilty when he began massaging his knuckles. ‘Sorry.’
‘Not at all. That’s a firm grip you’ve got. Perhaps not on reality, but . . . Ow!’
Lisa rubbed her elbow where it had just connected with Simon’s ribs. ‘Yes, well, terror does that to you.’
She sat back as the safety bar lifted, then – slightly jelly-legged – allowed Simon to help her back to ground level.
‘Now that was fun!’ he said, and she glared at him.
‘If you mean seeing me like that, then that’s not a very nice thing to say.’
‘I meant the ride,’ he said, jabbing a thumb back over his shoulder, then he clapped his hands together in anticipation. ‘What’s next?’
Lisa shook her head in disbelief. Not for the first time today, she didn’t have a clue.
Chapter 21
Simon stared at Lisa as she marched across the park for the umpteenth time, though with a fair bit of admiration. She’d plainly hated that first ride, so he’d asked ‘What’s next?’ – sure she’d say ‘Home’ or something similar. Instead she’d led him on a loop of the funfair to check out the rest of the attractions, then picked a ride called Pendulum, which looked even scarier than the one they’d just been on.
So he’d allowed himself to be strapped into the seat next to her, prepared for the bones in his other hand to be crushed, and braced himself as the ride gathered momentum, swinging – and eventually suspending – them some hundred or so feet above the ground. But while Lisa (along with the ride’s other passengers) had screamed her head off again, this time she’d kept her eyes open, even when they were upside down. And, even though he’d offered it, she’d left his hand un-held – and therefore uncrushed.
They’d jumped off Pendulum and made straight for Pinball X, where the two of them were thrown around in a manner befitting the ride’s name, and Lisa’s screams of terror turned into ones of delight, so much so that as soon as they got off, she made them rejoin the queue and ride the thing again. From there, it had been Dreamland Drop, a ride that lived up to its name when Simon lost most of the loose change from his pockets (he’d wondered why a group of young boys had been hanging around underneath when they were plainly too small to go on it, but when he saw them scrabbling around on the ground for his coins as he sat, helpless, a hundred feet above them, he got it). Lisa’s whoop of combined terror and excitement as they were catapulted upwards had made him laugh, though, and he’d had to remind himself he wasn’t supposed to be enjoying himself.
Then he’d suggested they ride the Scenic Railway, which Lisa had complained was too sedate but Simon had insisted. It was a classic, he’d reminded her. The only original thing left in the park. They couldn’t possibly miss out on it. Though in reality, he didn’t really care about that. He just needed a break from being thrown around.
‘Slow down!’ he called after her, but Lisa just beckoned for him to keep up.
‘The park closes at six!’
Simon checked his watch as he jogged after her: half past five. ‘Thank god!’ he muttered under his breath.
‘I heard that!’
‘Sorry.’
‘No, you’re not.’
‘I am! Sorry you heard it, that is,’ he said, falling into step alongside her. ‘Okay. Onwards and upwards – for the next thirty minutes, at least, then photos. Then . . .’ Simon stopped talking. They both knew what ‘then’ meant, and he found himself strangely saddened by the prospect of saying goodbye.
‘Fine.’ Lisa narrowed her eyes and nodded at their destination. ‘Dreamcatcher.’
‘What on earth is that?’
‘Hard to describe, really.’ The ride was next to the first one they’d been on, and consisted of a large metal structure that reminded Simon of an umbrella that had been stripped of its waterproof material. Around the outside – in pairs, and set one behind the other – was a series of chairs. Ones that – given the large hinges and heavy-duty restraints – looked like they were built for punishment.
‘Okay. But I’m sitting in front.’ He nudged her. ‘Just in case you’re sick. The last thing I want is a face full.’
‘Whereas down the back of your neck is fine?’ Lisa mimed feeling ill. ‘Suit yourself,’ she said, grabbing him by the hand and half dragging him towards the ride, and Simon laughed.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘You are!’ He lengthened his stride as he struggled to keep up with her. ‘You quite obviously didn’t enjoy anything about that first ride. Then you forced yourself to go on the second, and the third, and so on, and now you can’t wait for the next one.’
‘May I refer you to my earlier point about intransigence?’
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah, Cancún, blah, blah, blah!’ he said, a smile on his face.
‘Don’t knock it. There’s a reason it’s called Cancún, and not Can’t-cún.’
‘They have that as their slogan, do they?’
Lisa ignored his sarcasm. ‘Saying yes to everything gives you a belief that you can do new things. It’s transformative.’
‘Sure it is,’ said Simon. ‘But the thing is . . .’
‘What?’
‘You’ve got to want to like whatever it is you’re trying to make yourself like.’
‘I’ll try not to take that personally!’
‘Oh god, Lisa, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean . . .’ Worried he’d offended her, Simon looked up guiltily, but Lisa had begun reeling him in with an imaginary fishing rod, so he smiled. ‘I just don’t think you should try everything simply for the sake of trying it.’
‘But that’s half the fun, surely?’ said Lisa. And try as he might, Simon couldn’t think of an appropriate response.
They’d reached the start of the line for Dreamcatcher, so – grateful for a change of focus – Simon stared up at the imposing skeletal structure.
‘Are you sure you want to go on this one?’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘It
looks a bit like something Skynet might control. You know, from Terminator.’
‘I have absolutely no idea what you just said.’
‘Plus, there’s no one in the queue.’
‘You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing.’
‘If no one wants to ride it, it can’t be all that good.’
‘Says the man who’s been single for two years!’ said Lisa quickly, then she clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Simon, I’m so sorry,’ she said guiltily. ‘In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about you and . . . you know . . . that she left you.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Simon, though he felt a little guilty too. Because for the last hour or so, or at least since they’d entered the park, he’d done exactly the same.
And, though he felt a little ashamed of the fact, it had actually been a bit of a relief.
Chapter 22
Lisa glanced at her watch as she led a slightly queasy-looking Simon away from Dreamcatcher. The park was due to close in fifteen minutes, and then they had to go and find the photographer down by the harbour, so they probably only had time for one more ride. But which one? She widened her eyes at Simon – and, as if reading her mind, he smiled.
‘You choose.’
‘How are you with heights?’ she said.
‘It’s a bit late to ask that, isn’t it?’
‘I mean real heights.’
‘Do they involve drops?’
She grinned. ‘Not this time,’ she said, and Simon nodded.
‘In that case, I can do heights.’
‘Great.’
Lisa grabbed his arm and hustled him towards the Ferris wheel. While she might have preferred one last adrenaline-filled experience, she could tell Simon had probably had enough and was only going through the motions for her. Besides, they’d been thrown around, spun, turned upside down, lost their loose change (and nearly their lunch) more than enough times, and finishing off their date with a slow, made-for-Instagram, bird’s-eye view of the town was a lot more romantic. Or that’s how it would seem in print, at least.
The attendant was just closing the doors on one of the gondolas, so Lisa shouted to him to wait, then she and Simon jogged across and jumped inside. Another couple were in there already – mid-snog, she was embarrassed to see – so Lisa averted her eyes as she and Simon took the seat opposite. Though as the attendant locked the doors behind them and the wheel began its slow, circular journey up into the sky, Lisa suddenly found herself wishing she hadn’t been so hasty. The kissing pair had unclamped their faces and turned round to see who’d just joined them for the ride, and the male half of the couple was the last person she wanted to acknowledge. Let alone spend fifteen minutes trapped on a Ferris wheel with.
‘Chris?’
‘All right, Lise?’
At the sound of his gruff, Margate accent, Lisa shuddered. Chris Wilson. The guy she’d been seeing up until two months ago. The one who’d sent her tearfully scurrying off to Cancún to do some soul-searching, to work out what exactly it was she’d been doing wrong. Or – as Jess was fond of pointing out – the wrong who she’d been ‘doing’.
Lisa glanced nervously across at Simon. She and Chris had gone out for the best part of a year – though the actual ‘best’ part had turned out to be the first few weeks, when he’d been on his best behaviour while doing his utmost to get her into bed. Once he’d got what he wanted (and, to be fair, it was what Lisa had wanted too – right up until they actually slept together and Lisa realised the phrase ‘all mouth and no trousers’ pretty much summed up Chris’s seduction technique) then the majority of their relationship had fallen into the same old routine, with Lisa trying her best to be what she thought Chris wanted her to be (and, on occasion, what Chris specifically told her to be) and putting her own interests, her own passions, on the back burner as she did her best to turn the heat up on their relationship.
She’d assumed if she did this, then it would only be a matter of time before he realised she was ideal marriage material and got down on one knee. And, just when she’d been hoping it might happen, he did get down on one knee – in the ‘set’ position – then as if someone had fired a starting pistol, he’d made a run for the door and, she suspected, into someone else’s bed. When she’d confronted him, feeling cheated (even though he insisted he hadn’t), he’d told her this was just how he was, and that she was being ridiculous; that he didn’t want anything serious. So she’d told him the only ridiculous thing was their relationship and stormed out, and Lisa had never heard from him again. Never even seen him again, which in a town the size of Margate was quite a feat. He hadn’t answered her texts, or her phone calls – so much so that Lisa had realised she’d been well and truly ghosted. And yet now here he was, with another girl, the two of them looking like a ‘normal’ couple. And like they’d been one for a suspiciously long time.
‘This is a . . . surprise,’ was the best she could manage.
‘Yeah,’ said Chris, his arm looped tightly around the waist of the woman whose face he’d just been devouring. ‘How have you been?’ he said, as if none of the above had happened, and Lisa stared at him. It took a lot to make her speechless, but right now she couldn’t think of an appropriate response.
‘How have I been?’ she said, eventually.
‘Yeah.’
Fighting the impulse to reply with ‘Where have you been?’ Lisa cast her eyes around the interior of the gondola, desperate to get off. Maybe it had an emergency stop button like an elevator, or a handle like the one you pulled when you were on the Tube to alert the driver that some sweaty old pervert was groping you. Failing that, she could maybe make a jump for it – they weren’t that high yet – but the door looked like it was locked from the outside, and the bars that ran like a cage round the top of the gondola were a bit too closely spaced for her to squeeze through, and a little too high to climb.
‘Hi.’ Simon’s voice made her jump. ‘I’m Simon.’
‘Chris,’ said Chris as they shook hands.
‘Lisa said. And you are?’
Interesting to see how you answer that, thought Lisa, then she realised Simon had addressed the question to Chris’s (literal) squeeze. The girl was looking at her – she could tell something wasn’t quite right, Lisa knew. Though why she was feeling embarrassed, Lisa didn’t have the faintest idea.
‘I’m Cat,’ said the girl, finally switching her gaze back to Simon, so he shook her by the hand too.
‘Short for “Catherine”,’ said Chris, and Cat nodded.
‘He doesn’t like “Catherine”,’ she said.
‘You could have fooled me!’ said Lisa, following it up with a little-too-loud laugh.
Simon was looking obliviously at the three of them, and Lisa knew what was surely coming next. Please don’t say it, please don’t say it, she willed him, even though she suspected it was inevitable, and when Simon’s, ‘So, Chris, how do you and Lisa know each other?’ broke the uncomfortable silence, Chris hesitated.
‘We, um, used to . . .’
He looked at Lisa, evidently hoping she’d be able to supply an appropriate definition. And, while she could think of several, she decided to go with something tame.
‘See each other. That’s about right, wouldn’t you say, Chris?’
Chris let out a nervous laugh. ‘See each other. Yeah.’
‘Oh. Right,’ said Simon. ‘You’re that Chris.’
‘Yeah,’ said Chris, then his smile faltered a little, perhaps because he was wondering what ‘that Chris’ actually meant.
Simon had a look on his face that suggested he immediately regretted asking, and Lisa was staring at him, hoping that might mean his enquiries would stop. But whether it was the awkwardness of the confined space, or the fact that he was trying to make polite conversation, he couldn’t seem to help himself.
‘And you two are . . .’ Simon seemed to be searching for an appropriate term. ‘. . . going out now?’
‘Well . . .’ Chris swallowed
so hard that Lisa could hear it even above the noise of the funfair beneath them. ‘Actually . . .’ He was sounding increasingly uncomfortable. Though so was Simon. And Cat wasn’t looking like this was her favourite fairground ride either.
‘We’re not “going out”,’ she said. ‘Not anymore, at least.’
Lisa paled. Cat was gripping Chris’s arm tightly with her left hand – and on the third finger she could quite clearly see what appeared to be an engagement ring. Before she could help herself, she felt the tears spring to her eyes.
‘You’re kidding!’
Chris shook his head. ‘I just asked her. And she said yes.’
‘You just asked her?’
Chris changed his headshake to a rapid nodding. ‘Right before you two got in. I was going to wait until we got to the top, but then I saw someone else was about to join us, and thought it might be a little awkward.’
‘Unlike it is now?’ said Simon, and Chris chuckled nervously.
‘I don’t believe it!’ was the best Lisa could manage, though she’d meant to keep that to herself.
‘It’s true!’ Cat was grinning like her Cheshire namesake. She wiggled her ring almost under Lisa’s nose, and it was all Lisa could do not to grab her finger and snap it off.
‘And how long have the two of you been together, exactly?’
‘Since you and I, you know . . .’ mumbled Chris, and Lisa had to stop her jaw from hitting the floor.
‘Since you dumped me, you mean?’
Chris laughed nervously. ‘Uh . . . yeah!’
‘That’s . . . two months!’
‘Yeah. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind, to be honest.’
Lisa stared at her ex-boyfriend in disbelief. The man who ‘didn’t want anything serious’ had gone out and done the most serious thing you could do, and right after he’d dumped her. What was worse was that he’d done it with someone half her age, and half her weight. At a loss for what to say next, she put her head in her hands, not sure whether she wanted to punch something or scream.
Dimly, she became aware that Simon had edged a little closer to her, so she took a couple of breaths to centre herself and looked up. Cat was admiring the diamond on her ring, while Chris seemed to be eyeing the gondola’s bars, as if considering making a break for it.
