Page 95 of Out of the Shadows
Moments later, Cosmo’s diving into a huge slice of strudel and I pluck the piece from the fork he’s holding out to me, just a fraction away from my lips.
“Wuss,” he mutters under his breath, but there’s a smile in his eyes.
The strudel is rich and spicy, a pastry version of the glühwein. It’s covered in cream, and some clings to Cosmo’s lips. As I stare, he catches me, his eyes narrowing as the tip of his pink tongue sweeps the cream away.
I clamp down on the groan aching to escape my throat. This morning, me sprawled out on the bed with Cosmo kneeling on the floor between my spread legs, and licking his lips clean of something that was absolutely not cream.
He’s looking at me, his eyes no longer sparkling but fogged, his pupils huge and black.
“Daniel,” he rasps, “we should go home and—”
A kid, laughing and screaming, barrels into us, clutching a half-eaten sticky doughnut in his hand, his parents in hot pursuit. The dripping jam lands on Cosmo’s coat.
“Harry come here!”
The child’s dragged away amidst an explosion of cries and screams and foot stamping, and a muttered apology from the parents.
The intrusion has jerked us both out of our lust fogged state as the boy screams and cries as he throws himself to the ground in an explosive tantrum. We retreat as quickly as we can.
“Well, that was a good advert for contraception if I ever needed one. Not that I ever have.” Cosmo pulls a tissue from his pocket and wipes away the sticky blob of jam.
“It was a dousing of cold water, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. After all, we paid a tenner each to get into this so we need to get our money’s worth.”
Cosmo throws back his head and laughs. “Spoken like a true accountant.”
“Accountant? I’m an investments guru.”
“Whatevs. Come on.”
The fête is becoming uncomfortably crowded, and despite my comment about getting our money’s worth, I’m feeling ready to leave. Cosmo’s got other ideas as he comes to a sudden halt, his jaw dropping.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
And then I see it.
The carousel could be straight out of a costume drama.
Extravagant and colourful, the wooden horses circle around, rising and falling, sedate and serene. Every horse is white except for their tails and manes, which are either crimson or gold. Traditional carousel music plays, and the guy running it is dressed in Victorian costume, adding to the feeling that just for a moment we’ve stepped back in time.
“Oh, we havegotto have a go at this.” Cosmo drags me forward.
“You must be joking. It’s for kids.”
He won’t be deterred. “Not just for kids. Look, those guys are even older than you.”
I don’t even have time to huff before he’s pulling me into the queue in front of the little payment booth for the next ride.
“I don’t know, I’m not sure—”
“Of course you are. Two please,” he says to the attendant. “Too late to back out now.”
We trundle up the steps to the carousel.
“You can’t be scared. Didn’t you play at soldier boys a few years back? What’s scary about riding a camp looking wooden horse as it makes its regal way around the carousel that’s so slow even your granny would be okay with it?”
I snort. “It’s not very dignified.”
