We took the drinks over to a table near the edge of the boardwalk and I took a healthy gulp of the alcohol. ‘Who are your other siblings, then?’
‘You really want to know?’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’
She shrugged a little and licked some salt off her lips. ‘After Tim, it’s Sam, then the twins, Alfie and Teddy, then there’s Daisy, the baby – who is now thirteen.’
‘Are you close?’
‘There’s no option but to be close, growing up in a modestly sized house, as one of seven.’ She laughed.
‘Now, I’m not surethat’sstrictly true.’
She cocked her head at me like she didn’t understand, and it occurred to me that maybe she didn’t. For all her smarts about people, she couldn’t fathom not being close to her family. Something like envy filled me. I had my fair share of love with my immediate family, so I understood it, but I also knew that family didn’t always have to love you. That was the whole reason we were here after all.
‘It must have been a challenge, though. How did your parents manage when you were small?’
‘Oh, organised chaos I suppose you’d call it. And we all had to pitch in. We still do.’
‘You helped a lot with the younger ones?’
‘Helped, dangled them out of windows by their ankles, whatever you want to call it,’ she joked. Or I assumed she was joking and when she saw the concern in my expression, she laughed. ‘I’m kidding. I mean, that happened once, and it was Tim doing it to Sam, but we got there before he dropped him.’ She wrinkled her nose as she thought about it. ‘I think it was hardest for Sam, actually. He’s naturally quiet and kinda stuckin the middle. Lucy, Tim and I only have a year between us each. Then Sam’s four years younger than Tim. He’s closest in age to the twins but obviously they are their own little unit, too.’
‘What about Daisy?’
‘Yeah, she’s a lot younger, but Daisy…well, let’s just say, nothing fazes her. I reckon she could handle anyone or anything.’
She sounded a lot like another Kingston woman I knew. I looked around and experienced an odd sense of detachment. My father had been here. He’d walked by this beach and these rides. Worked on them. I drained the rest of my cocktail, eager for the sharp tang of citrus to cut through the dull feeling in my chest.
‘Take it easy there, bud.’ Elle raised her eyebrows. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to carry you back to the train if you drink too much on an empty stomach. Ready for a corn dog, yet?’
‘Is there nothing…healthier available?’
‘We’re at the funfair, Stephen, live a little.’
‘That’s why I like healthy food. To increase my probability of living a lot.’
‘Pssh. A little of what you fancy does you good too, y’know.’
‘Oh, I’m aware of that,’ I said softly, as my eyes grazed over her face. A pink flush stole across her cheekbones and my momentary thrill at her response immediately crashed as I remembered what I’d promised her. No flirting. I cleared my throat. ‘Look, I’ll eat the corn dog if it’s that important to you. But…only if you beat me at one of the games.’
Her eyes immediately lit up. ‘OK, you’ve got a deal. What game?’
‘You can choose.’
‘So sure you’re gonna win, huh?’
I just smiled. I had what I wanted from earlier – her excitement focused on me – so it felt like I already had.
She finish her drink and dragged me around the stalls, deliberating between hook a duck, the coconut shy, basketball tossing and the shooting gallery, finally settling on the latter. ‘Ladies first.’
‘Great.’ She picked up the rifle and tucked it into her shoulder, squinting down the barrel at the sliding targets inside the booth. She blew impatiently at the wisps of hair straying across her face and I reached out without thinking, smoothing them back and tucking them behind her ear.
Her eyes widened and caught mine. I dropped my hand and stepped back.
She took a deep breath and proceeded to shoot down every single target, like a secret assassin or the terminator I’d likened her to the other day. A siren went off, red lights flashing, proclaiming her as a winner. She lowered her weapon, an impression left from the butt of the rifle in the soft skin of her shoulder. She bit her lip, trying to control the huge, proud grin on her face.
‘You hustled me,’ I accused her, but I was smiling, too.
