Free Erotic Amusements by Justine Elyot Page B

at an event tonight. You need a good reason why you can’t do it.”
    Flipp floundered, unsure of whether to be pleased to see Rocky again or alarmed at the gravity of his manner. Before she could decide, the office door was open and Cordwainer strode purposefully in their direction.
    “Shit, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Rocky said loudly, his face transformed to a mask of sympathetic agitation. “You’ll want to go and visit her tonight, then.”
    Flipp flipped her glance between Rocky and Cordwainer, wary of both, wondering which to be warier of.
    “Uh…”
    “Visiting hours are between seven and eight. Buses aren’t very good at that time of night—if you like, I could give you a lift in on the bike. What do you say? Yes. Say yes.”
    “Is there a problem?” Cordwainer, having completed his elegant glide, eyed Rocky sharply.
    “Flipp’s just had a phone call. Her grandmother’s had a stroke. She’s in Goldsands General.”
    “And you are going to take her visiting, Rocky? Remarkably public-spirited of you.”
    “Ah, well, you know me,” Rocky said, working the bonhomie a little too hard. “Always ready to help a blonde in need.”
    Cordwainer snorted. “Indeed. Well, I was going to offer you some overtime, Flipp, but that can wait for another time. Unless—”
    “I really ought to visit her,” Flipp interjected, alarmed by the clenching of Rocky’s fists. “She doesn’t have anyone else.”
    Cordwainer, thwarted for the moment, simply nodded stiffly and returned to the office.
    “What was all that about?” Flipp muttered, putting her mouth to the small opening at the bottom of the screen.
    “I’ll tell you later. Meet me at the funfair at eight, by the waltzer.”
    “This is like a spy novel.”
    “Isn’t it? And every bit as risky.”
    “I’ll see you later then. Oh, and Rocky?”
    He turned, halfway to the door.
    “Wearing sunglasses indoors is very uncool, you know.”
    He didn’t take them off but simply ran a finger along the bottom of one frame, adjusting it so that it sat a little lower on his cheek.
    “There are worse things than being uncool,” he said. Then he walked out, the monstrous revving of his bike cutting through the electronic bleeps a moment later.
     
    “Oh, take them off. It’s getting dark.” Flipp’s entreaty met with a grunt of resistance, then Rocky, joining her on the lowest step of the waltzer carousel, removed his shades.
    “Oh. Right. I see now. What happened to you?”
    “Long story. Let’s just say a cat took a dislike to me.”
    “Some cat.” Flipp reached up and put a tentative finger on the deep-set gashes beneath Rocky’s eye. “More like a tiger.”
    “Yeah,” Rocky agreed. He took her hand, removing it from his face, and kissed the fingertips. “Not a fluffy little pussycat like you.”
    “I’m not fluffy,” Flipp objected. “Anyway, what’s all this about? Why are we here? Why has my fake grandmother had a fake stroke?”
    Rocky stretched backwards, extending those long, shiny black legs outwards and clasping his hands behind his head.
    “Do you know what, Flipp? We’re at a funfair. Let’s have some fun.”
    Flipp took a breath in, filling up with burnt sugar and engine oil. Bells and sirens and screams and motors rose and fell around her. Night was creeping in and the coloured lights were beginning to glow. There was a trashy magic in the air and a sexy man at her side. The seduction was in full swing.
    “Okay.” She smiled at him and pinched a thigh. “Fun’s good.”
    “Are you a roller coaster or dodgem girl? My money’s on roller coaster.”
    “You collect. I’m a thrill seeker.”
    “I knew it.” He bent to take her lips, long and languidly, before pulling her up by the wrist and leading her over to the Dive of Doom.
    “Okay,” said Flipp, her dinner threatening to escape her stomach in advance. “I know I said I was a thrill seeker, but that thing looks as if it might collapse at any moment.”
    The