Page 71 of Sad Girl Hours
“And what’s one extra giant Yorkshire pudding when you’ve already eaten thirteen?”
“Boy math,” Vivvie says promptly.
“Come on then,” Jenna says. “Let’s get you number fourteen.”
Nell turns to me. “I don’t think they have veggie ones, so how about we…” She jerks her head up towards the Ferris wheel.
A smile stretches across my face. “Absolutely.”
The closer we get to the end of the queue, the more Nell fidgets around.
“You OK?” I ask. “Ants in your pants?”
“Yup, several, the tiny insect perverts. I’ve tried to get them out but no luck.” She shrugs, and that seems like the only answer I’m going to get until…
The fairground guy comes and shuts us into our pod. I wriggle in next to Nell on the bench and am about to say, “This is fun,” when the pod lurches upwards and Nell grabs on to my arm with a grip like a vice.
“Nell?” I say. “You OK?”
She attempts a smile but it looks pained. “Yep. Never better.”
“What’s wrong?” I say, mentally calling bullshit.
“Nothing.”
I just look at her, much in the way she has at me these past months.
We keep on heading up, everything beneath us growing smaller. The bulbs strung across the square look almost as small as the stars above us as we reach the top and the wheel comes to a halt for a few seconds.
“OK, so I might be a teensy bit afraid of heights.” The words come out of Nell in a rush, her hand still gripping my forearm.
I turn to face her fully. “You’re afraid of heights?” I ask incredulously.
“Kind of? It’s more a fear of falling from a great height than the actual height itself but colloquially, yes, I am very much afraid of heights.”
“Why on earth are we on a Ferris wheel then?” I say, laughing gently.
“Because I thought you’d like it. I put it on the list because I wanted you to feel— Oh my God, are we wobbling? We’re wobbling. Is this thing supposed to wobble?”
I put my own hand on her arm, trying to be reassuring. “Shh, it’s OK, Nell. This is fine – it’s perfectly safe, I promise.”
“Did you personally carry out their health-and-safety inspection or witness the report of somebody who did?”
“No, but—”
“Then you’re in no position to make that kind of promise, SAFFRON.”
I bite back my laugh. “I promise because I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. Look around: the view’s pretty. Hey.” I nudge her with my shoulder, trying to get her to open her eyes. “Take a look around.”
Bless her, she does open her eyes a millimetre, and shedoestake a look around.
I hope she’s seeing what I’m seeing. The city surrounding us is lit with pricks of silver light. All of it blurs into the background, however, as my eyes focus on Nell. Her round cheeks and pointed nose are pink and dotted with the ghosts of freckles from a sunkissed summer – her lips slightly chapped from the cold.
“Good Lord, we’re up high,” she says weakly, and I know she’s trying to pretend that she can’t feel our pod swaying in the wind.
“Just, whatever you do, don’t look down,” I say.
“I won’t,” she says, instead looking straight back at me, hazel eyes locked on to mine. Her soft smile adds another glowing thing to the sky tonight. “Why would I look down,” she says, voice quiet, even though it feels as though it’s only us two occupying the universe right now anyway, “when I could look at you instead?”
