It Only Happens in the Movies

by Holly Bourne

“We want to go on the log flume. How do we make this happen?” The man raised his eyebrows. Well, I think he did. He had so many hats on it was hard to tell. “Ha ha, very funny.” “Seriously,” Harry said. “It’s only 6 p.m. The rides are still open for an hour, right?” “Mate, it’s minus two degrees. And you want us to start up the log flume?” I pulled on Harry’s sleeve. “Harry, come on.” He shrugged me off. “Is it closed?” “Not technically.” “So, we can go on it?” “Well, yes, technically.” “Well then, two rides, please.” Harry turned back to me, beaming. “You ready?” My delayed onset of emotional whiplash was catching up on me fast. What was happening? This time yesterday, Harry was just a work colleague. Now he was kissing me, groping at me, whisking me off to Brighton and demanding I get on a log flume in the middle of winter. He took my silence as a yes. And before I knew it, he had grabbed my hand and tugged me over to the ride. While the guy followed us, muttering and, yes, actually swearing under his breath. “Fookin’ youth of today. Have to get the whole ride going…almost home time.” I felt so embarrassed as we waited for the ride to start up. It looked dormant in the dark – sleepy and lurching and just plain creepy really – all the logs stood clogged up along it, like a constipated intestine. There was a crank and the ring of a bell and then, slowly, the sound of water gushing. The logs began to move. “It’s happening, Audrey.” Harry pulled me into him, trying to get me...