❝ PICKET FENCE! ❞ → GRAY ✓

→ i.ix

Act One, Scene Nine

→ ❝ we all deserve some fun! ❞

             As promised, Arthur provided Carol with a steady flow of gin and brought her up to a suitable level of intoxication much more easily than he thought it would be. After a brief dance (that would make her mother faint at the mere thought of it), she had run off from Michael after he had tried to get her to drink some water, groaning at him dramatically for trying to ruin her fun. She had latched on to Finn's arm and followed him out to the yard, and was currently waiting for the horse race that she had been promised to start.

             Carol watched her breath intently as it exited her mouth in clouds, swirling up to the night sky like candle smoke. It was a mesmerising sight, and baffled Carol as she began to wonder where her breath went when the cloud disappeared.

             "Should you be out here, love?" an older man with a salt and pepper moustache suddenly broke her train of thought, cocking his eyebrow, "I think the rest of the women are inside, dancing."

             John sauntered up to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into him. Her head sloshed slightly as he did so, and she was momentarily out of sync with the world as she waited for her vision to catch up with her. "She can do what she fucking wants mate, eh?" he defended her, raising an eyebrow at the man warningly, before plastering a smile on his face, "It's a wedding, isn't it? Don't we all deserve some fun?"

           The man mumbled something under his breath about 'fucking gypsies" before turning on his heel and heading towards Johnny Dogs to place a bet. Gambling didn't interest Carol in the slightest; she just looked forward to seeing the winner.

             "You want to start the race?" John asked her as they began to walk behind the horses. He had wrapped his thick coat around Carol's bare shoulders, who noticed it had the same smell as Michael's: cigarettes and whiskey. She wondered if the scent was shared by all accountants bored out of their minds with their job, or if John had a different position within the family company.

             Carol's eyes widened in excitement and her mouth hung open; it was as though she had been asked to meet the King, not begin a backstreet horse race. "Do I? Of course I do!"

             "Right then," John sniffed and knelt on the floor, motioning to his shoulders, "Up you get."

             The girl dropped his coat to the floor (ignoring John's warnings that it would come out of Michael's next paycheck) and eagerly climbed on, grasping tightly onto the sides of his head as John held securely onto her legs. He made his way to stand between the two horses, which were standing ready with their jockey's chatting between themselves, laughing at Carol's delight when she realised she was nearly as tall as the men sat on the horses.

             "What the fuck?" Finn and his opponent swore in confused unison as Carol blew each of them a kiss that she claimed was for good luck. Secretly, she put more energy into Finn's, wanting him to be the one to win. She hiccupped in surprise when John shouted impatiently for her to get on with her job, before clearing her throat and letting go of his head, shaking herself off in preparation.

             "On your marks, go!" she giggled, throwing her arms up in the air as the horses sped past them, their hooves thudding on the ground as heavily as her heartbeat in her chest. John stumbled a little, causing Carol to scream half in terror and half in delight as she teetered on his shoulders, grabbing onto his head and accidentally obscuring his vision as she tried her hardest not to fall off.