Outlined against the sky was the colossal Giant Wheel that slowly revolved, carrying little cars slowly up into the heavens; cars that spun and swayed ominously on what appeared to be thread-like anchors.
The four of them faced the beach, looking along the three-mile strip of sand at the seething mass of humanity that lay on the sand, played ball, deck tennis, leap-frog or rushed madly into the oncoming breakers and filled the air with noise.
“Phew! Half the town seems to be here,” Buster said, surveying the scene with his wide, india-rubber grin. “Let’s get at it. We’ll have a swim first, then something to eat, then we’ll go to the amusement park. How about it?”
“Did you bring a swim-suit?",Frances asked, turning to Pete.
He shook his head.
“I’m afraid I don’t swim.”
He saw Bunty pull a little face and lift her shoulders in a why-on-earth-didyou-come-then? gesture, and he felt the blood rise to his face, and that angered him, for he knew when he flushed the naevus on his skin turned livid and made him look repulsive. He saw Bunty turn away so she need not look at him. But Frances was looking at him with no change of expression in her eyes.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said quickly. We’ll sit on the beach and watch the others swim. I don’t feel like swimming myself.”
“No! Please; I want you to swim,” he said, trying to control his embarrassment.
“Burt will guard our clothes,” Buster said. “We shan’t be long. Come on, girls, let’s get to it.”