Free Star Fish by Nicola May Page A

other better.’
    ‘That is just so sweet. Of course I’m fine – champagne it is.’
    The fact it was early March and there was a biting wind did not deter Carl. For reasons of vanity I hadn’t put on my thick winter coat; instead I had just madly thrown a woollen pashmina over my shoulders. Luckily the two glasses of champagne we had just swigged in the bar were giving me some slight alcoholic warmth.
    ‘Babe, sorry – I didn’t think. You must be freezing. Put my coat on.’
    ‘No, it’s my fault for being so vain. I’ll be fine, we just need to walk faster, that’s all.’
    ‘I tell you what, Amy. We’ve seen some swans, we’ve had some fresh air, why don’t we give up on this river bit and find a nice warm pub to sit in?’
    I think he must have heard my huge sigh of relief.
    Two gin and tonics, a rum and Coke and a cheeseburger later I was beginning to feel fantastic.
    ‘Amy, you really are such a beautiful fish I can’t believe that no one has caught you yet.’
    ‘You’re making me blush,’ I told him ‘ and you’re not so bad yourself. Now tell me, if you were really a fish, would you be a shark or a minnow?’
    Carl was undeterred by this strange question. ‘A minnow, I reckon. I’m too nice to be a shark.’
    Good job Liv wasn’t here, as she would be raising her eyebrows. This was my favourite getting to know someone game. Once I started, that was it – I could go on for hours. The other player always seemed to respond with gusto so I guessed it couldn’t be too boring.
    ‘Black or white?’ I continued.
    ‘It has to be black.’
    Fab, Carl was obviously on my wavelength.
    ‘Sweet or sour?’
    ‘Oh sweet, definitely.’ ‘You?’
    ‘Yes, sweet as well.’
    This made me think of a birthday treat that my mum and dad took me on when I was about twelve years old. We went to a really lovely restaurant, which was renowned for its puddings. The sweet trolley came round and Dad had said. ‘It’s her birthday, you know. Give her a bit of everything.’
    I had eleven different puddings on one plate – cheesecake, Pavlova, lemon meringue pie, chocolate brownies, the full works. This was the first and only time I have ever been sick in a public place, all over the next table. Needless to say, we never went back there. Anna still finds great joy in ribbing me over this.
    ‘Now Ms Anderson, I don’t think you can always be the question master. Brandy or vodka?’ Carl teased.
    ‘Ergh, I don’t like either, but if it was the only alcohol left in the world I would say brandy.’
    ‘Roses or carnations?’
    Bless Carl, only a Piscean would be so sweet.
    ‘Oh, roses for sure and they have to be yellow.’
    ‘Yellow roses? That’s a new one on me.’
    ‘OK, Mr Peters, how about a hug or a kiss?’
    ‘Kiss, definitely.’ His beautiful brown deer eyes bore straight into mine.
    Oh my God, and I so wanted to kiss him. You could almost drown in his eyes. Not only that, he had long sweeping lashes, ones I’d always dreamed of having myself. I spent a fortune on mascara just trying to make mine curl slightly up on the ends.
    ‘You can’t beat a good old snog now and then, can you, Ms Anderson?’ And he reached right over the table there and then and gave me a mind blowing frenchie. I felt slightly giddy when we eventually pulled apart.
    ‘Wow, us fish know how to snog, that’s for sure!’ I sighed.
    ‘We also know how to make an entrance to a wedding. Quick, we’ve got five minutes to get back to the hotel.’
    Carl held my hand throughout the ceremony. The bride looked beautiful. The two bridesmaids were very cute and the mothers both cried on cue. I managed to remain calm as I had no association with Carl’s cousin whatsoever. However, when it came to the ‘you may kiss the bride’ bit and Carl squeezed my hand I was off then. The butterfly mind was flying over as many buddleia bushes as it could manage.
    That was me standing there. I was in that white organza dress, hair tied up