Page 61 of Jessica Beam is a Hot Mess
Noooo!
As inconspicuously as I can − which isn’t very, considering my outfit − I dive over and swipe up the scrap of material, which now has a grass stain and some wheel oil on it too! As I’m examining it, I hear Leo Frost speaking from above me.
‘ … yeah, she was easier than a two-piece puzzle, curves like you’ve never seen. Frankly, what choice did I have but to give her a quick ride before Martin took her back home.’
The men in the group all laugh, and one even slaps his back.
Ew. Who talks about women that way? What a disgusting, sexist turd. I cannot believe that Valentina went out with this bonehead.
I shake away my strong desire to forget this whole project and just kick Frost really hard in the shins. Instead, I focus on a final attempt to ‘drop the glove’.
Closing one eye, I take careful aim – it hasgotto land in his field of vision if he’s going to actually spot it − but right before I can drop the bloody thing, two bulky teenage lads dart past me, shoving into my arm. I lose my grasp on the glove and it goes flying through the air, landing perfectly on the shoulder of Leo Frost’s slick grey suit.
It’s all going wrooooong!
Before anyone can realize that I am the dirty glove flinger, I swiftly duck behind the candyfloss cart, out of sight and away from the scene of the crime.
Leo Frost and the event runners are mega horrified. Looking around in befuddlement, Leo picks the glove off between finger and thumb, smiles stiffly at the events people, and drops it into a nearby litter bin. He takes his burgundy handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabs at his shoulder.
Brill. Well, Operation Drop the Glove has well and truly failed. Abort. Abort. Grandma said her mother − my great-grandmother − gave her those gloves, and now one of them is in the bin! Shit. Ihaveto rescue it, but I can’t until later; Leo Frost is hardly going to be charmed and bewitched by me if he finds me rooting around in a manky bin.
What the fuck am I supposed to do now? The only other thing I remember from the book is something about soothing voices. Speak to a good chap in a soft, low tone? Was that it? It sounds ridiculous to me. Either way, how can I even attempt to make contact if he’s constantly surrounded by all these funfair event organizers?
Aha!
As if divine intervention has answered, I notice Leo strutting over to the big dodgems rink at the centre of the fairground. He hands a ticket over to a steward and excitedly folds his tall frame into a lime-green bumper car. Realizing that this could be my only chance to talk to him one on one, I jog over − which is super tough in the girdle and is more of a speedy waddle, actually – and before one of the other events people can join him, I nudge through, stealth it past the steward and dive at the car, throwing myself into the driver’s seat right next to Leo.
He jumps in shock and blinks at me as if I’m a mirage.
I gaze up at him from beneath my lashes. Please don’t let him recognize me from the book launch. He shouldn’t – I’m not wearing glasses or a onesie and my hair and make-up iscompletelydifferent. I look nothing at all like the normal me. But still …pleeeeasedon’t let him recognize me.
I hold my breath.
No appalled shouting. No call for security.
Phew.
I exhale in relief and hold out my hand, eyeing Leo Frost in what I think is an enigmatic way. He doesn’t get chance to shake my hand, though, because the rink lights start flashing on and off – our signal to drive. Music suddenly blares out from the massive speakers round the rink. ‘Driving in My Car’ by Madness.
Nice choice! OK, I can do this.
I gently press my foot down on the pedal and we slowly move forward round the track.
‘Hiii,’ I say to Leo in a nice, low, soothing-type voice. ‘I’m—’
Crap! Who am I? I can’t reveal myrealname. He’s only met me once, I know, but he might have an extra-good memory – I did chuck champagne all over him, after all. Cockwaffle, why didn’t we think of this? I have to think of a brand new fake name and fast. I rapidly flick my eyes about the place for inspiration.Ferris wheel, fortune teller, bouncy castle, portaloo… loo…
‘Loo, er, I mean … Lucille,’ I finish in my low voice. ‘I’m Lucille.’ I spot a little wooden food cart declaring itself:Darling’s Roasted Chestnuts!‘Darling! Lucille Darling. I’m very pleased to meet you.’
‘Yeah, hi, Lucille,’ Leo Frost says absent-mindedly. I meet his eyes to see if I’m charming and bewitching him. They are focused entirely on my breasts, which are so pointy they’re almost touching the steering wheel of the car. Pointy boobs for the win.
Right. Time to make some gentle opening conversation. I clear my throat. ‘It’s alovelyfair, isn’t it? I do so love the—’
CRASH!
From behind, another bumper car smacks into us. Leo and I are thrown forward in our seats.
‘Shiii—’ I instinctively yell, but thankfully stop myself just in time. Instead I say ‘Shimmy!’ and give a little wriggle of my shoulders. Leo’s eyes widen at my chest-wiggle. I whip my head round to give my withering glance to whoever bumped our car so hard. It’s those bloody teenage boys from before − the ones who shoved into me when I was trying to drop the glove. One of them – a skinny doofus wearing a sleeveless vest that shows off a shit barbed-wire tattoo − does a ‘wanker’ motion at me with his hand. Absolute chumps. They laugh at my angry expression. I long to flip them the bird, but I’m pretty sure that’s not in Grandma’s guides.
