The Little Vintage Carousel by the Sea

by Jaimie Admans

  ‘Ouch!’ we both say in unison as our foreheads crash together and the sudden seriousness of the moment is lost as we both jump apart and Nathan scrambles away from me so quickly that he nearly slides off the bench.

  He groans and drops his head into his hands on the table, laughing again. ‘You even make a headache fun.’

  I laugh too, because there’s not much else you can do in this situation. Although if there was ever a choice between a kiss and a headache, I definitely wouldn’t have minded kissing him. And not just because it’s preferable to the headache.

  Chapter 16

  ‘You’re going to hate me after this.’ I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head. ‘You don’t know my mum, Nathan. She’ll probably arrive with an ovulation calendar and a homemade smoothie to increase your sperm count.’

  ‘Don’t worry so much. I’m prepared for anything. I’m looking forward to meeting them.’

  It’s Saturday morning and I’m sitting on the doorstep of the cottage, waiting for my parents to arrive, and he’s standing in the doorway behind me, his knee resting against my back. I don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose as a gesture of moral support or if I’m just in the way, but I like it there.

  ‘I suppose it will be nice to see them,’ I say. ‘I haven’t seen them since I came up for the Easter weekend.’

  ‘There you go, then. Isn’t it good that I invited them up?’

  ‘You didn’t invite them. My mum used mind-altering Uri Geller powers on you. Didn’t you notice all the cutlery had started to bend after her phone call?’

  He nudges his knee into my back and that simple touch makes me melt.

  ‘She thinks we’re together, Nath, and she won’t take no for an answer. It took her four months to accept I’d broken up with “poor Andrew” and that was only after he posted a picture of him snogging his new girlfriend. Until then, she thought we were winding her up, and that it was a cover for me being pregnant, and no, I could never make sense of where she got that idea either.’

  ‘There are worse things I could be than your boyfriend.’ Another knee nudge. ‘We know we’re just friends. If it makes your mum happy to believe otherwise, well, I’m not going to perpetuate it, but where’s the harm? In the most respectful way possible, she seems like the kind of woman who’s not going to believe owt until she’s decided it’s true in her own time. I’m sure she’ll see after spending the weekend with us.’

  ‘Well, don’t be surprised when she asks you for a DNA swab, and if she demands a sperm sample, for God’s sake, don’t give her one. She’s so desperate for a grandchild that she’s probably got rubber gloves and a turkey baster in the car.’

  ‘Oh my God, I love her already.’

  I look up at the fondness in his voice. He doesn’t know quite what a force of nature my mother is yet, but the fact he hasn’t already run screaming for the hills, and actually seems genuinely pleased at the idea of my parents coming to visit is really lovely. ‘Poor Andrew’ used to moan for weeks if they visited, and would deliberately book overtime at work to coincide with the dates we’d arranged to drive up to Nottingham and visit them.

  All thoughts of running screaming for the hills disappear as their little orange car pootles up the promenade towards us, right on time, as always. My mum is never late.

  Nathan steps across me and holds out a hand to pull me up from the step, and then he’s standing on the path outside the cottage, waving more enthusiastically than anyone has ever been to see my parents before.

  ‘Oh, Ness, isn’t it lovely here?’ Mum bounces out of the car in a blur of pink floral dress and floppy sunhat.

  ‘We used to come to this area of the country for our holidays when we were courting. We’re wondering how we could possibly have missed such a pretty little village, and that gorgeous beach,’ Dad says, shutting the driver’s side door behind him and taking a deep breath of sea air. ‘Good to see you, kid. The sea air’s done you good. You look better than you have in ages.’ He gives me a hug while Mum squeals at Nathan.

  ‘Oh, you’re just as gorgeous as you sounded on the phone! And so tall! Ness is so short that she needs to marry a tall man or she’ll never reach anything from the upper shelves. And you’ve got such lovely dark hair. My grandchildren will be the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.’

  I go over to try to rescue him but she sweeps me up in a hug without taking her eyes off him.

  ‘Hi, Mum. This is Nathan. He’s an axe murderer and has got a freezer full of chopped-up bodies downstairs. He was planning on using them in a casserole tonight.’

  ‘Oh, but isn’t he handsome?’ she says purposefully loudly.

  He’s blushing as he tries to shake hands with my dad but gets yanked into a bear hug instead.

  ‘He’s just a friend, Mum.’

  ‘Well, he can be a handsome friend, can’t he?’ She holds my shoulders and runs her eyes up and down me. ‘Your dad’s right, the sea air must agree with you. You’re looking all glowy and healthy. You always look so pale when you come up to see us. You’re so …’ She suddenly gasps. ‘Glowy! You’re positively glowing! People always glow when they’re expecting! You’re pregnant already, aren’t you?’

  Nathan chokes and my dad whacks him on the back.

  ‘Oh good lord, Mum, you’re obsessed. I’m not pregnant. I barely know this poor man. You haven’t been here for three minutes yet, and you’re already scaring him off.’

  She claps a hand over her mouth. ‘You’re right. Men get all jittery when the “p” word is mentioned, don’t they? It’ll be our little secret.’

  ‘I’m not pregnant,’ I say as she turns to coo at a blackbird on the grass. ‘Nath’s just a friend. There’s no physical way possible that I could be pregnant. Are you even listening?’

  The blackbird’s far more interesting.

  ‘Mum,’ I say loudly to get her attention. ‘I haven’t had sex for over two years! Well over!’

  Of course, she chooses that moment to stop cooing, and it coincides with a lull in the conversation between Nathan and my dad, so I announce my celibacy to all of them, plus a few guests in the nearby cottages, a couple of dog walkers on the beach, and probably half the promenade too.

  Nathan meets my eyes and grins and then shouts at the top of his voice. ‘Me neither!’

  I love him for trying to make me feel better.

  Mum drops her voice and beckons me closer. ‘That’s not really something you want to advertise to all the world and its husband, Ness. Oh, unless he’s into the demure, virginal bride thing?’

  ‘He’s not in to anything. At least, he probably is, but I wouldn’t know because it’s not like that with us. He’s just a—’

  ‘Well, you want to find out. They like it when you indulge their fetishes—’

  ‘A cup of tea!’ I squeak before she gets any further embroiled in this conversation and starts on about her and Dad’s sex life or Nathan’s fetishes or lack thereof.

  ‘Good idea,’ Nathan says quickly. ‘Our landlady, Camilla, has sent up some biscuits she baked specially for your visit.’ He gestures to the open door. ‘Come in, I’ll get the kettle on, Marilyn.’

  ‘Call me Mum!’ she trills, following him in. ‘Ooh, this is a pretty door. Ness, can you grab my bag out of the boot before your dad locks the car?’

  Nath meets my eyes from the hallway of the cottage and raises an eyebrow before Mum bustles him into the kitchen, and I stand on the path outside feeling like a five-foot-tall florally dressed tornado has just gone through Pearlholme.

  Bless him for taking it all in his stride though. He barely knows me and he’s still willing to handle my mother with good-natured enthusiasm and politeness. She’s been here for less than five minutes and she’s already got into his sex life and what our children will look like. God knows what kind of damage she can do in the rest of the weekend. And yet, the smile hasn’t slipped from his face once.

  ‘She just wants to see you happy,’ Dad says, pulling his ow
n bag from the back seat.

  ‘I’m happy in London. Not dating anyone and not having children anytime in the next decade.’

  ‘If that was true, she’d probably leave you alone a lot more.’

  It is true … isn’t it? I mean, I’m happy enough, my job’s okay, my flat’s kind of crap but the best I can afford on my wages. I like living near Daphne. I like living in the city where everything happens … don’t I? I used to, but now I feel like everything happens around me while I sit in my crappy flat wishing for something better.

  I question myself as I open the boot and lift out Mum’s pink, flowery suitcase, which is more than large enough and heavy enough for a two-week holiday, and her … hatbox? ‘Mum! Why does this look suspiciously like a wedding hat?’

  She pops her head round the kitchen door and calls out from the hallway. ‘Oh, I thought you asking us to stay for the weekend might be code for something and you didn’t want to say in case I got overexcited. I wanted to come prepared, just in case!’

  I look at Dad. ‘How does she translate inviting herself to stay for a couple of days into me possibly marrying a guy I’ve known for two weeks? No wonder her suitcase is so heavy,’ I mutter as I heft it out of the boot and drag it inside. ‘She’s got enough mother-of-the-bride outfits for sixty weddings in here, hasn’t she?’

  ‘She may have gone a little overboard,’ Dad says. ‘Which is, of course, totally out of character for your mother. She almost never goes overboard about anything.’

  I laugh at his sarcasm. He’s always the voice of reason.

  I take her suitcase upstairs and show Dad to the spare bedroom, which we’ve set up with fresh line-dried bedding, the windows open and the pretty daisy-patterned curtains blowing in the breeze, and a fresh vase of flowers from Camilla, and then I quickly rush back downstairs to save Nathan from Mum’s clutches.

  I stick my head round the kitchen door to find her doling out vitamin powder into his tea. ‘Good for the sperm count!’

  How long do you get for murder these days, assuming the crime is, of course, completely justified?

  Nathan holds up his hands and shrugs like he’s just letting her get on with it. I mouth ‘I’m sorry’ to him, but he grins, genuinely looking like he doesn’t mind at all. It makes me smile, because I doubt many other blokes would’ve managed this long in my mother’s company. Daphne’s husband Gavin needed a stiff drink when he met her for the first time, and she only spent a few minutes with him.

  I don’t realise I’m just standing there smiling at Nathan until Mum shoves a plate of Camilla’s shortbread biscuits into my hands. She’s definitely clocked the look between us because she suddenly looks so excited she could burst. ‘Take these in and we’ll all have a good catch-up! I want to know everything about this gorgeous man. You’ve got a good one here, Ness!’

  ‘I haven’t—’

  ‘Ooh, what lovely décor!’ she shouts from the other room, completely ignoring me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I murmur to Nathan as he picks up two cups and comes to stand next to me.

  ‘You don’t have to thank me. She’s great.’

  ‘Easy to say after five minutes. I’ll ask you again on Monday morning.’

  ‘Honestly, Ness, it’s—’

  ‘Come on, you two! I saw you undressing each other with your eyes just now! No hanky-panky with your parents in the next room! Oh, unless you’re ovulating! Are you ovulating, Ness?’ Mum calls out.

  ‘No, but I might be,’ Nathan shouts back and I hear a peal of laughter from the next room and the deep boom of my dad’s chortle.

  At least my parents find him as funny as I do.

  ‘Never mind Monday morning, give it five more minutes and you’ll be hijacking their car because even your long legs aren’t quick enough to get away.’

  ‘And miss this delightful second-hand embarrassment? Not a chance. She’s already been telling me what you were like as a baby. I can’t wait to hear more.’ He grins and gestures for me to go through the kitchen door first.

  Great. Knowing my luck she’s got a box of old photos in the car, and she’s not afraid to use them.

  Which is marginally better than ovulation calendars and fertility-boosting vitamins.

  * * *

  ‘This is such a lovely place,’ Mum says as we all walk down to the beach that afternoon to show them the carousel. ‘It’s got such a welcoming atmosphere. Everyone’s so friendly.’

  ‘Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess in here. I’m only two weeks in to a six-week project.’ Nathan unlocks the security fence and lifts the heavy panel aside with ease. ‘But Ness has been helping me – I don’t know what I’d do without her.’

  He looks over their heads at me and gives me a secret smile above their line of sight, and it makes me feel all warm inside. I’ve been spending a lot of time down here, cleaning and sanding the wooden horses while he works on the engine and takes the organ to bits and rebuilds it, but not one part of it has felt like work. It’s been fun to spend time with him, to watch him work, to rush through the articles piled up in my inbox, and ignore the one I’m meant to be writing, and come down to the beach and breathe in the sea air and just listen to him as he talks animatedly about carousel history and what his job involves and tells me about some of the previous jobs he’s done. He never gets annoyed at my endless questions and theories about Ivy and her missing carver. I’ve thought I was more a hindrance than a help, but that little smile makes me think he might’ve been enjoying it too.

  I don’t miss the look Mum gives us both when she catches us smiling at each other again though, and Nathan quickly drops his gaze and yanks the curtain aside to let them in so clumsily that he almost pulls the whole marquee down.

  My dad lets out a low whistle as he walks into the tent. ‘Wow. It’s been years since I saw one of these.’

  ‘It’s nowhere near finished,’ Nathan says, gesturing to the mess in the tent. There’s even less of a carousel skeleton now than when I first saw it – nothing but the centre pole, engine, and organ is still in place.

  He’s organised and methodical in his work. I’ve been watching as he deals with the biggest parts first, the integral workings of the carousel like the bearings and gears around the central pole, followed by the engine and the organ, leaving the metalwork and wooden parts for later on. I’m actually quite honoured that he’s let me watch him, and that he’s let me get involved with cleaning and sanding the horses, because he usually works alone and I get the impression he likes it that way.

  My dad crouches down and rubs his hand over the freshly sanded muzzle of one of the horses, still in such good condition that the bare wood looks like it’s just been carved rather than like it’s been here since Victorian times. ‘This isn’t the missing carousel, is it?’ he says with a laugh.

  I can see Nathan’s ears prick up. ‘What?’

  ‘Oh yes, I remember!’ Mum squeaks. ‘We used to hear stories about it when we went on holiday to Scarborough, didn’t we? They always said you could hear the music of a carousel playing late at night, but no one could ever find where it was coming from.’

  Nathan meets my eyes across the tent, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing – if the carousel was in the house on the cliff, could the music from it have been heard that far up the coast? Could it be that the legend of the carousel stretches much further than Pearlholme?

  ‘They always used to tell ghost stories about it,’ Mum says. ‘Oh! Ness, you said you were investigating a ghost story. Do you think it’s the same one?’

  ‘Was it about a guy who built the carousel for the love of his life and then disappeared off the face of the earth?’

  ‘No.’ Mum shakes her head and looks at my dad. ‘Let me think. It’s been so many years since we heard it. It was much more macabre than that.’

  ‘I always used to say the big seaside resorts got fed up of tourists in the summer months and told it to put them off,’ Dad says.

  ‘Oh yes, that’s right,’ Mum
says. ‘It was said to have been built as a gesture of true love, but the love wasn’t true, and the man who built it had a wandering eye. After one affair too many, his wife got so fed up that she killed him and no one ever found the body, and afterwards she went completely mad and didn’t know what she’d done. Apparently she carried on looking for him and sat on the carousel waiting for him to return until the day she died.’

  ‘No, wait a minute,’ Dad says. ‘Didn’t they used to say that she sat there lying in wait for other unfaithful men so she could chop their willies off? The carousel was supposed to be hidden in a place popular for illicit affairs, unseen by everyone except unfaithful men, and if you ever saw it, it was already too late. It was said that every time you heard the music, she’d caught another one.’

  ‘Now that’s a ghost story I can get behind,’ Nathan says with childlike glee. ‘Not everlasting true love but murder and madness and a spot of castration. Brilliant!’ He claps his hands together, and I’m mesmerised by how deep his dimples are when he’s smiling so wide. I can’t stop smiling at him, despite the fact I much prefer the first version of the story.

  ‘Why do I think the husbands heard one version of that story and the wives heard another?’ I say.

  ‘Why do I think the wives added that willy part onto the original story just to scare their husbands?’ Nathan grins at me, his eyes shining with delight.

  ‘They always used to say he worked as a barker for a carousel on Scarborough seafront and one day he just disappeared and was never seen again.’

  ‘A barker for a carousel.’ I look at Nath. ‘Like Billy Bigelow.’

  ‘Who’s Billy Bigelow?’ Dad asks. ‘Not another one of these secret boyfriends you’ve been hiding from your mother, Ness, is he?’

  Mum slaps him. ‘Ness doesn’t have any other boyfriends. She only has Nathan.’

  ‘I don’t have any boyfriends, Mum.’

  Her selective hearing kicks in again. ‘He’s the lead character from Carousel. You took me to see it when we were courting, don’t you remember?’ she chastises Dad instead. ‘It’s such a lovely old thing.’