I waved hello to Nelly, who was standing by the service counter, and then let my eyes drift over the patrons. I recognised all of the regulars, but two tables down sat an old woman and a young man I’d noticed a couple of days ago. They’d been in every day since, and caught my interest mainly because the woman must have been in her sixties, and her hair was as red as a Coca-Cola can. She also wore about a hundred necklaces all tangled around her neck.

The man had long, wavy dark brown hair and brown eyes. His skin was tanned, and he wore a battered old T-shirt. His equally battered brown fedora hat sat on the table in front of him. He reminded me a little of a sexy gypsy, though less of a My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding gypsy, and more of a Johnny Depp in Chocolat gypsy. He was tall, and his muscles made Shay’s look like puppy fat in comparison. Plus, there was the man bun his hair was messily tied up in. I was a swooning mess for a man bun. Always had been.

In other words, he was hot…and I was staring. I’d found myself staring at him a lot this past week, but never caught him staring back (much to my disappointment.) The woman he was sitting with caught my eye and gave me a mischievous wink. I smiled to myself and looked away. There was a queue of kids lining up to have their faces painted, so I tried to focus on my job rather than the odd couple sitting two tables down.

A little while later as I went to grab a glass of water, Nelly took me aside and asked, “See those two in there?”

I nodded.

“They’re from the circus, the one set up just outside of town. I think the woman is the owner. She’s a strange-looking character altogether.”

I absorbed this information with another nod. I was well aware of the circus. In fact, tonight was its last show before it moved on, and I’d been saving up a little cash to go see it. My mind was awash with possibilities. I wanted to see clowns, elephants, lions, and acrobats. I wanted to see it all. I’d asked my sometimes friend Delia if she wanted to come, but she’d given me the brush-off. I say “sometimes friend” because sometimes she ignores me, especially if her other friends are around. I think she really only tolerates me because my mum runs this big important tech company, and she wants to get in good with the local high-flying businesswoman. Really, I should be offended, but when you live in a small town in the southeast of Ireland, you kind of have to take what you can get in terms of friends.

As the evening wore on, most of the diners trickled out, and the odd couple, as I’d started to refer to them in my head, were the only ones left in the restaurant. I was passing through the kitchen when John the cook had to run to the bathroom and asked me to keep an eye on some eggs. I nodded, and he hurried off. It was my own fault that I wasn’t paying proper attention, because I went to grab the handle and instead burned my hand on the side of the pan.

“Ouch!” I screeched, loud enough to wake the dead. I held my hand to my chest, wincing at the pain. Half the inside of my palm was burned raw. A moment later, both Nelly and the odd couple came rushing into the kitchen to see what the racket was about.

“What happened?” Nelly asked breathlessly.

I bit my lip. “Burned my hand. Sorry about, uh, the screaming.”

“I thought an axe murderer had broken into the place,” Nelly said. “Come here and let me see.”

Taking a step toward her, I glanced at the dark-haired man. His deep, almost black eyes were fixed on my hand. His face was unreadable.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of this,” Nelly said, waving them both back outside. Now the man was staring into my eyes, and I got a little shiver down my spine, though it wasn’t unpleasant. They both went back to their table, and Nelly put some burn cream on my hand and wrapped it up.

A few minutes later, the restaurant door opened, and a mother and daughter walked in. The little girl was eager to know if the face-painting lady was still around. I mustered a smile and went to ask her what she wanted to be. Since it wasn’t my dominant hand that had been burned, I could just about manage painting.

“I want to be a pirate,” she declared as she pulled herself up onto a seat in front of me.

“Oh, good choice!” I replied. Now I was thinking about Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean. I had old Johnny on the brain today.

I drew a fake goatee onto the little girl, complete with an eye patch and a red bandana. Then I took things a step further when I did a skull and crossbones on her cheek. When her mother came to get her, she didn’t look too pleased that I’d transformed her child into a hairy-faced marauder, but I just shrugged. It was what she’d asked for.

“She looks like she wants to make you walk the plank,” a voice said just behind me. I turned to see the Coca-Cola-haired lady standing there. Her accent was London cockney at its finest, and when she smiled, she had a million wrinkles around her eyes. They weren’t ugly. In fact, they were beautiful, full of character and experience. I wanted to colour them in with every shade of the rainbow.

“Hmm, well, I am in the mood for a swim,” I replied humorously, and her smile widened. A shadow fell behind her as she rummaged in her bag and pulled out a flyer for the circus. The shadow belonged to Mr Tall, Dark, and Exotic. He stood there, unfathomable eyes on me, causing me to blush. All at once I felt sweaty, hot, and strangely self-conscious. It was like his eyes were taking the sum total of my parts, but I had no clue as to the result he’d settled on.

The woman continued, “You should come see the show tonight, girly. It’s our last one.”

“I’d already planned to. I can’t wait,” I exclaimed, picking up the flyer and folding it into a neat square.

“I’ll wait for you outside, Marina,” said the man gruffly, his eyes meeting mine once more before he moved by us and walked outside. I watched him as he stopped, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and lit up. His grey T-shirt showed the muscles in his arms and his tanned skin. Quite like Marina, I would have liked to paint him, too, but for very different reasons.

I’d been surprised to hear his deep Dublin accent. I was expecting something…I don’t know, foreign. I heard Marina laughing and brought my attention back to her.

“If I were from the American south, I’d say he was a mighty ornery bastard,” she chuckled. “Never did manage to learn any social niceties, that one.”

I swallowed and couldn’t help but ask, “Is he a part of the circus?”

“Oh, yes, Jack’s a fire-eater. He’s a big attraction with the ladies, as you might guess. A pity he never mastered the art of charming them.”

Her words made me imagine Jack sitting at a dinner table, knife and fork in hand, ready to dig into a plate of fire.

“Oh, well, I suppose when you look like that, you don’t really need charm.” The words were out of my mouth before I had the chance to censor them, and Marina let out a loud guffaw of a laugh.

“I like you. You say what you think. I hope your hand heals up fast,” she said, and patted me on the shoulder before following Jack out the door. I twisted in my seat and watched them say a few words to one another before walking down the hill away from the restaurant.

When I arrived home after my shift, I wanted to run straight upstairs, take a shower, put on something nice, and head out to the circus. Unfortunately, Mum was waiting for me when I got there, her arms crossed over her chest, face stern and an opened letter in her hand.

I narrowed my gaze when I saw the letter had my name on it. “Did you open my mail?” I asked indignantly. I should have been more surprised, but I was used to her control-freak behaviour by this stage.

“Yes, and I’m glad I did. These are your end-of-year exam results, and I have to say they leave a lot to be desired.”