Free The Pull of the Moon by Diane Janes

not sure what he had in mind, but the
situation was arrested by the intervention of a voice from my left.
    ‘Let go of her arm and beat it.’
    There was something about the voice which made Piggy Eyes automatically loose his hold and take a step back. His companion had already decided discretion was the better part and was moving off
into the crowd, beckoning his mate to follow. I turned to get a look at my rescuer and saw two guys of our own age, taller than the drunks, one fair, one dark, both good-looking.
    ‘He didn’t hurt you, did he?’ It was the dark-haired one who spoke. I exchanged a swift look of disbelief with Cecile. He was the sort of rescuer dreamed up by the serial
writers at Jackie – far too gorgeous to be true.
    I assured him that I was fine.
    ‘Maybe you ought to stick with us for a while, just in case those two troglodytes are hanging around anywhere. I’m Danny, by the way – and this is Simon.’
    ‘I’m Katy,’ I said. ‘And this is Cecile.’
    The tawdry funfair was instantly transformed into a place of magic. Danny took my hand and began to steer me through the crowd, leaving Simon to pair up with Cecile and follow us. Two minutes
later we were crushed together in a dodgem, Danny handling the car with one hand, while he kept the other arm protectively around my shoulders.
    We had been on several other rides and were on our way to the twister, when I spotted the giant stuffed toys at the back of the rifle range. There was a rabbit dressed in top hat and tails and I
let out a little squeal of delight at the sight of it.
    Danny halted in his tracks. ‘Would you like one?’ he asked.
    ‘You have to hit a bull’s-eye,’ I protested. ‘No one ever does.’
    Danny grinned at me. ‘I will,’ he said. ‘I always get what I want.’ I loved the certainty in his voice, and the way his eyes met mine as he said it, with their
unmistakable implication that his desires ran to more than mere stuffed rabbits.
    The three of us watched while Danny handed over his money and took aim. We were all laughing, urging him on, and we groaned collectively when his first three shots missed by a mile. Danny
gestured to the man behind the counter that he wanted another go.
    ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said quickly. I had scarcely known him half an hour, and he probably didn’t have money to throw away on toy rabbits.
    ‘Come on,’ said Simon a bit impatiently. ‘Let’s go on the twister.’
    But Danny was already pushing a pound note at the stallholder and picking up the rifle again. His whole body exuded focus and concentration. His next three shots also went wide of the mark.
    ‘They rig the guns, you know,’ said Simon, keeping his voice low, and a wary eye on the stallholder who was only a few feet away from us, taking money from another hopeful punter.
‘Twist the sights or something. You won’t get one,’ he added in a louder voice for Danny’s benefit.
    ‘I really don’t mind . . .’ I began.
    The stallholder had ambled back towards us. He gave Simon a hostile glare. ‘You sayin’ this is a crooked game, son?’
    At that moment Danny fired again and scored a bull’s-eye. He tossed the rifle down and threw his arms above his head like a cup-winning goal scorer, extending the gesture of victory my
way, until he had enveloped me in a hug.
    ‘Well done, mate.’ The guy behind the stall pulled down a giant rabbit, which at Danny’s gesture he handed across to me, taking the opportunity to eyeball Simon at the same
time. Simon stepped back smartly, but Danny was oblivious of any tension – totally immersed in his moment of triumph. His determination to satisfy my whim, coupled with the fact that he was
far and away the best-looking boy who had ever shown the slightest interest in me, ensured that I was beyond being ‘all of a flutter’ – I was soaring on fully fledged wings.
    Although Cecile had paired off with Simon, their association went no further than one foursome to