“U shone out there 2nite—I’m proud of u babe. Can u make it 2 my hotel?”
She texted back, furiously aware of Krishnan’s and Anjali’s gazes upon her.
“Can’t, bro is suspicious, taking me 2 Goose Fair.”
In the car on the way to Forest Fields, Jas received a second message from her beau.
“Goose Fair cd b fun. I’ll c u there. A xx”
She gasped, and Anjali craned her neck around from the passenger seat, her eyes avid with curiosity.
“Your man?” she asked archly as Jas threw the phone back into her handbag, not quite quickly enough.
“I don’t have a man.”
Krishnan snorted.
Jas threw herself back against the good leather and rolled her eyes. How the hell was all this going to work out?
“Oh, I love Goose Fair!” exclaimed Anjali, opening her arms wide and running through the car park towards the carnival of bright lights and screams that lay ahead. “Have you been before, Jas?”
“Never,” Jas admitted. The magnitude of its brightness reminded her of the Diwali Parade back home in Leicester. Huge, illuminated mechanical arms swung hither and thither, dizzying her, while a gigantic Ferris wheel turned slowly at the rear of it all.
“You’re in for a treat,” said Krishnan, taking her arm. “I’ll get us all some mushy peas with mint sauce.”
“Ugh,” said Jas, but Krishnan insisted, queuing up for a polystyrene tub each of this stunning, regional delicacy.
She regretted sampling it as soon as the three of them took their places in one car of a many-tentacled fairground ride, preparing to be hurled into space and swung around until their stomachs escaped through their mouths.
“I don’t like white knuckle rides,” she whimpered.
Krishnan put an arm around her, pulling her tight, to Anjali’s visible disgruntlement.
“Oh yes you do,” he crooned. “You’re a thrill seeker, Jas. You like a bit of danger.”
“Don’t be a baby,” said Anjali scornfully. “We’re just about the oldest people on this ride. The kids aren’t scared, are they?”
Maybe they weren’t, but Jas was grateful for Krishnan’s steadying arm around her as they were flung up and around, hurtling through the stars and lights, the ground with its milling swell of winter coats and candyfloss stalls far, far below.
Jas spent most of the ride with her eyes screwed tight shut, but as it began to slow, she risked opening them again. Down below, she noticed some extra lights, flashing brightly in a rough circle—photographers. Paparazzi! Photographing…Ajay! He stood in the centre of a growing throng, an ankle-length camel coat thrown over his shoulders, signing autographs.
Good grief. How am I going to handle this?
Stepping down from the ride into a drunken-style stagger, Jasmine tried to skirt around the eager fans, but Anjali worked out what was happening.
“It’s Ajay!” she cried. “Let’s join him. Maybe they’ll want our autographs too.”
She fought her way through the crowd, dragging Jas and Krish in her wake, determined to take her place in the spotlight.
Ajay’s face lit up as brightly as the fairground bulbs when he saw them break through.
“Two screen goddesses of the future!” he proclaimed, ignoring Krishnan. “Come and take your rightful places, girls.”
He nodded to Anjali as she fluttered over to his right side, then bent to whisper in Jas’ ear once she was ensconced at his left shoulder.
“Can you get away?”
Jas shook her head stiffly, maintaining a fixed grin in front of the local pressmen and their giant cameras.