Over the other side of the fair, having gotten her helper of the night to man the fort while she nipped back to the living vans to use the makeshift toilet facilities, Solly’s wife of twenty years, thirty-six-year-old Gemma Grundy, was making her way through the crowds to retake her position in the pay booth of the House of Fun. Suddenly she stopped short, staring in disbelief at the scene she had happened upon.
By the candy floss and confectionary stall, laughing hysterically, three youths were vigorously rolling around a wooden barrel between them. No harm in that to Gem, just a bit of fun which is what the youths had come to the fair to have themselves, but not when a pair of legs was sticking out of the open end of the barrel and a torrent of muffled expletives was emitting from inside, courtesy of the legs’ owner. Knowing the owner as well as she did, Gem was absolutely outraged that these youths were treating that person in such way. A small crowd had gathered to watch, some laughing, others in obvious disapproval but, regardless, not doing anything to halt the proceedings.
To ensure the lads would hear her over the rest of the din the crowds were making, and the blaring music from nearby individual rides, she launched herself over to the rolling barrel, bringing it to a stop by using her weight against it. ‘Oi, stop that now. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’
She was a shapely, attractive strawberry blonde, with humorous violet-blue eyes and dressed in a full apple-green skirt with layers of netting underneath. She wore two-inch black stiletto court shoes.
A thick black belt was around her trim waist, a scoop-necked white, sleeveless blouse and short red cardigan with black embroidery down both sides of the front completed her outfit.
The three teenagers stared at her, stunned for a moment at the abrupt interruption into their fun and it was the lankiest, spottiest one of them that finally answered her, in a cocky manner, more to impress his other two mates than actual bravado. ‘Just having a laugh, missus, no harm done.’
‘Yeah, that’s right, just having a laugh,’ the two other lads parroted.
She sneered at them and snapped, ‘That’s your idea of having a giggle, is it? Risking hurting someone by putting them upside down in a barrel and rolling them around!’ She wagged a finger at them. ‘Like me to get some of the gaff lads to do it to you and see how funny you think it is then?’
The three boys looked horrified at the very thought and, before she could carry out her threat, they kicked up their heels and shot off to be lost in the crowd, gesturing with their fingers as they went. Show now over, the gathered crowd dispersed too.
Gem addressed the person in the barrel. ‘It’s me, Mrs Grundy. Those louts have gone, so stop thrashing your legs about so I can grab hold of them and get you out.’
The response was too undecipherable for Gem to translate but it was apparent that her message had gotten through as the legs stopped flaying. Grabbing hold of the ankles, she pulled until the body they belonged to slid free. As they scrambled upright and straightened their clothes, Gem said, ‘You alright? Did those clots hurt you at all?’
Renata Shawditch glanced down her body, all four foot three of it, before lifting her head and bringing smiling hazel eyes to rest on Gem. ‘All me bits and pieces still seem to be in place and, apart from a few bruises, I’m fine. It could have been worse had you not come to my rescue, so ta very much, Mrs Grundy.’
‘Glad I happened to be passing.’ She then eyed the tiny woman, confused. ‘What on earth got into those idiots to do what they did to you?’
‘I caught one of them red-handed, trying to help himself from the penny dip when I was serving a customer. I threatened to bash his thieving head with me trusty tennis racket that I keep under the counter to protect meself with from such brain-dead sorts if he didn’t put back what he’d stolen or pay up. He didn’t like being bettered by a woman and, to boot, one half his size; especially not in front of his mates or the other punters as I’d a queue at the time. Next I knew, him and his mates had up-ended the barrel of its sawdust and prizes and forced me into it and… well… you know the rest.’ Her face then screwed up with annoyance. ‘And not one of those in the crowd came to me rescue, did they?’ Then her face crinkled good-naturedly. ‘Must have thought it was part of a side show. If anything like this should happen again, I’ll stop the proceedings until I’ve gone around the crowd and collected money from them first to watch.’
Gem couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Trust Ren to see the funny side. But then that was Ren all over, always seeing the humour and positive side of life. She eyed the woman fondly. Twenty-four years ago Ren’s parents, both from showmen families who had travelled with Grundy’s for years operating their hoopla stall, had welcomed their daughter into the world with all the love and protection anyone would shower on their most precious possession. Both in their mid-forties at the time, they had long ago given up on being blessed with even one of the dozen or so children they had planned to have when they had gotten married over twenty-five years before. Ren’s arrival one bitter winter’s night in early February had come as a bolt out of the blue, Ren’s mother having no idea she was pregnant. In fact, she was convinced she was on the change of life when her periods had suddenly stopped nine months before. She had thought the pains she was experiencing were caused by a dish of potted shrimps she had had for her tea and it was an aged crone who had helped to bring many fairground babies into the world who was to put her straight; that she was in labour.
Ren had been physically perfect in every way and achieved every milestone that all other children did as they grew and developed, except that height-wise she was always many inches shorter. Before she was a year old it became apparent to her parents and everyone else that, by a freak of nature as there was no family history on either side of this happening before, Ren was a midget. This could have devastated other parents, but not Ren’s. Whether she grew to six feet tall or only reached three foot was of no consequence to them whatsoever. They raised her to be confident and proud of herself and to ignore completely any slights aimed her way from others. She was encouraged to view any as the culprit’s show of jealousy for the fact they were not so petite and pretty as she was. She wasn’t at all the sort of woman that won beauty contests or that men did a double-take at, just pleasantly attractive, but what drew people to her in droves was that she had a great sense of fun and an extremely kind and caring nature and could always be relied upon to do whatever she could for those in need of help.
Gem had a great respect for her and she knew, without doubt, that Ren would make a wonderful wife to a special kind of man who would not let her lack of height blind him to the array of other qualities she possessed. Gem knew Ren had had her fair share of boyfriends over the years; most had ended because, when all was said and done, the men in question could not cope with what others threw at them for being involved with someone they deemed not normal. Gem believed though that one day a man worthy of her would see her worth and Ren would then get the happiness she deserved.
What Gem or anyone else of the Grundy community did not know was that it was doubtful that even if any of those men had been enamoured enough to turn a blind eye to the taunts and ridicule of others, the relationship would have gotten any further than friendship in respect of Ren herself.
Her heart belonged completely to another and had done since she had first clapped eyes on Donald Douglas, or Donny as he was known. Both had crawled upon the grass together as babies whilst their mothers sat on stools outside their living vans and shared gossip over cups of tea and chunks of homemade cake. The pair had been close friends since that time. Indeed, so much did he think of Ren that friendship might have turned to love for Donny as it had for Ren on her reaching an age when she recognised just what love actually was, had not another girl arrived on the scene and set her cap at the then fourteen-year-old Donny, using her good looks and wily ways to turn his attentions away from Ren onto herself. And all because to Susan Potts even at that young age, in ordinary-looking, gangly Donny, whose parents owned their own ride which as the eldest male child he would one day inherit, she saw a good prospect for a future husband. She reckoned he’d give her a better life than the one she had with her own family, who scraped a living from a stall selling cheap penny-type toys and trinkets that broke not long after the purchasers bought them. Before Donny was aware of what was happening to him, at the age of seventeen, he was married to the then sixteen-year-old Suzie and was living with her in a modern, two-bedroomed caravan bought for them as a wedding gift by his family.
Despite her own heartache that the man she loved more than anything in the world would now never be hers, generous-natured Ren would have been happy for Donny had she been convinced that this marriage was a good one. She was far from sure about it as she had seen with her own eyes how Suzie had systematically manipulated him up the aisle and, right from the start of their marriage, it was very apparent from passing comments Donny made just how lazy Suzie was. It was Donny who did most of the cooking, cleaning and other chores, as besotted with her as he was, accepting Suzie’s never-ending excuses for her laziness.
But as if watching the man she loved being made a fool of by his wife was not torture enough for Ren, when no one else was around to witness it, Suzie wasn’t the amenable, helpful young woman everyone believed her to be. She was jealous of Ren’s friendship with her husband, rightly guessing that Ren felt more for him than friendship; out of pure spite she would taunt and belittle Ren.Ren usually managed to brush Suzie’s nasty remarks off but occasionally, after a particularly nasty onslaught, they did get the better of her. Never would she allow Suzie the satisfaction of knowing it; she would always nurse her upset in private.
Ren kept her knowledge about Suzie to herself as she knew the truth about his adored wife would break Donny’s heart and she cared far too much about him to ever do that to him. For Donny’s sake though, all Ren hoped for was that one day Suzie would wake up and realise what a good man her husband was – one she would find it very hard to better – and start treating him the way he deserved to be.
Through the crowds Ren’s nemesis, dressed in a tight pair of bright green capri pants, a waist-length box-style red blouse with a short bolero-style cardigan over the top, flat black pumps on her feet and long brunette hair tied up in a high ponytail, suddenly materialised. She was breathless from running and with her pretty face screwed up, clearly annoyed, she blurted out, ‘Oh! I missed all the fun then.’
Gem looked at her incredulously. She had always found Suzie such a pleasant, helpful young woman whenever she had had dealings with her since she had arrived with her mother and father ten years ago and secured a pitch from Sam for their toy and bric-a-brac stall, that this show of acute disappointment that she had missed out on the humiliation of one of their community greatly shocked her. ‘Surely you can’t think that was funny, Ren being shoved in a barrel and rolled about? She could have been seriously hurt.’
Suzie stared stupefied at Gem, mouth opening and closing fish-like. She had spoken her thoughts out loud without considering just who was present. When she had overheard what was happening to Ren via two gossiping women happening to pass by Ren’s stall at the time and who then had stopped by Suzie’s parents’ stall to have a peruse of the goods on sale, she had pelted over in order to witness Ren’s humiliation. She planned to use it later to make the woman look foolish and belittle her in the eyes of her husband. Donny was so blind and stupid not to have realised, or have an inkling even, that Ren was head over heels in love with him and in truth although Donny was besotted with herself, deep down it was Ren he really loved. Had Suzie not manipulated him into it, it was Ren he would be married to now, not herself. Suzie cared for Donny but didn’t love him as a wife should and never had. But being married to him was a damned sight better than the life she was living with her parents and two younger brothers in their ancient, damp four-berth caravan surviving on the paltry amount their stall brought in. Until someone with better prospects than Donny came along – something she was working hard at finding herself – she meant to keep him, never give him a chance to question his feelings for her or especially those she knew were lying dormant for Ren. Except for Ren, every other member of the Grundy community believed her to be a devoted wife to her husband and a thoroughly helpful and caring woman to have around. And that was the way she intended to keep matters until she was ready to let them know her true colours. With a look of deep concern on her face, she spoke earnestly. ‘Oh forgive me, Mrs Grundy, that didn’t come out as I meant, really it didn’t. As soon as I heard two women giggling about what they’d seen, I told me mam I had to come over and put a stop to what those lads where doing to Ren. Mindless idiots.’ She looked at Ren then in feigned deep concern. ‘Glad to see you’re not hurt.’
Ren just looked back at her blankly. Suzie deserved the lead in a play for that performance. She might have sounded sincere but she certainly wasn’t one iota. Ren was in no doubt that Suzie was fuming she had missed the actual show because it was just the sort of incident she delighted in coming across so she could use it to torment her with. She would certainly use it to make a fool of her in Donny’s eyes in a continual effort to erode their friendship which, despite numerous efforts up to now, she had failed to do. Now, same as always in such situations, she smiled at the malicious young woman and said sweetly, ‘It’s very thoughtful of you to come to my rescue, Suzie, but Mrs Grundy beat you to it.’
Just then, a loud voice rent the air. ‘Is anyone serving or do we just help ourselves?’
Ren turned around to see a crowd queuing at her stall. She spun back, smiling at Gem. ‘Best get back to it.’
‘Yes, I must get back too. Muriel will be wondering where I am,’ said Gem. Then, patting Suzie’s arm in a gratified manner, she said to her, ‘So good of you to put your own safety at risk to come and help Ren when you heard she was in trouble instead of alerting some of the men to deal with it. You should be proud of yourself.’
Looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, Suzie waved a dismissive hand and said, ‘You don’t think of your own safety when you hear that one of your own is in trouble, do you, Mrs Grundy?’
‘You certainly don’t and God forbid that anything like this should happen to me, but then should it, I just hope that you’re around at the time.’
Now she was alone with Ren, Suzie’s whole demeanour changed in a flash. Gone was the sweet smile, replaced with a malicious smirk. She sneered at Ren. ‘What a laugh me and Donny will have over this tonight. I’ll make it my business to let everyone else have a good laugh about it as well.’ She then took a look around to make sure no other fairfolk witnessed what she was about to do and, satisfied there wasn’t, stepped over to the pile of sawdust and prizes that Ren had been left to put back into the barrel and spitefully kicked her foot through it several times scattering it all about, then turned back to Ren and laughed at her before she went on her way.
As she watched her go, Ren heaved a deep sigh and sadly shook her head. She had a terrible feeling that one day Donny would have a very rude awakening as to the real person his wife was and not the one she showed to him and everyone else. When it did happen she would be there to help him pick up the pieces as a good friend would.
Seventy-year-old, wiry, silver-haired Sam Grundy, dressed in a 1920s-style red-and-yellow striped jacket and black trousers – his trademark outfit as ringmaster – sported the battered face of a fist fighter; damage he had received over the years from defending his people and business from outsiders hell-bent on bringing down the fair for whatever reason they had at the time. He was leaning against the safety barrier that circled the big wheel, smoking a pipe and watching his youngest son skipping expertly between the racing dodgems to help a punter who had gotten themselves stuck onto another after crashing into them.
He saw Solly’s good humour and easy-mannered banter with the punter in the car defuse their annoyance at not being able to unlock one car from the other, which was eroding into his time on the ride. Solly lived and breathed the fair, would wither and die if the life was taken away from him, just the same as it was for Sam himself, his own father too and back down the line of Grundys. It was a pity that the same couldn’t be said for his eldest son, Sonny, who would inherit the business in the not-too-distant future when Sam’s own life came to an end. He couldn’t fault Sonny for the way he never failed to pitch in and do what was necessary in keeping the business running, but it was his way to boss others around, to assert his authority against Solly’s opinion, which in fact mirrored his own. They all worked together for the same end, and he should ask instead of command.
Sonny hadn’t always been like this; up until his twentieth birthday he had been very much like his brother in nature but then suddenly, overnight in fact, he had changed into a surly individual that gave the impression he felt the world was against him. No matter how much his family tried to get to the bottom of why Sonny’s personality should go through such a sudden, dramatic change, either Sonny didn’t know himself or wouldn’t disclose what had happened to him to bring this about; they had no choice but to accept him as he was now and hope that someday he had an equally sudden change back to being the affable young man he’d been before. That, though, had never happened and after all these years didn’t now seem very likely to.
Sam sighed, a frown furrowing an already deeply lined brow. Now the end of his life was getting closer, the future of the fair was becoming more of a problem for him. Fair tradition dictated that the eldest son of fair owners inherited the main business and the next male in line a ride each or whatever the owner thought suitable; nothing in some cases where there was discord between father and son. Sonny was his eldest living offspring and therefore should be the one to become its ringmaster when he died. The trouble for Sam was that he felt Sonny hadn’t the right temperament for the job itself or for keeping harmony amongst the Grundy community, which was equally as important to him. Solly, though, did. Sam felt that, under Sonny’s management, there was a great danger that Grundy’s would not flourish and prosper in the way he had striven for it too. Whereas under Solly, Sam knew, without doubt, it definitely would. Did he then break with tradition and make Solly his main heir or follow fairground tradition and leave it to Sonny? Showmen traditions were cast in stone to Sam but, as Solly had proved to him over his marriage to outsider Gemma, there are occasions when traditions need to be ignored.
He ran a gnarled hand through his profusion of wiry silver-grey hair. Time to make a decision over the fair’s future leader was not on his side. He was three score and ten now, in good health apart from arthritis riddling its way through him, but any time now he could be struck down. Only a few weeks ago Harry Sparrow, a robust-looking, energetic man in his late fifties who had worked for him for years, an all-rounder who could turn his hand to anything, suddenly dropped dead as he’d been helping to unload a lorry after arriving at a new site. He needed to discuss the problem. Nell, his beloved wife, had always been his listening ear, whose advice and judgement he had trusted beyond reproach, and she would have helped him arrive at the right conclusion, but now she was gone and her wisdom along with it. Luckily for him though there was one person amongst the Grundy community whose friendship over the years he had come to value highly, especially since Nell’s death when without her to turn to he doubted he’d have managed to get on with his life without her in it. Nell had thought very highly of her too. Maybe it was time he took her into his confidence and asked for her guidance on his problem. He would do that at the first opportunity so he could put this worrying matter to bed and enjoy what days he had remaining to him without it hanging over his head.
He felt so proud though that through his hard work, at times literally shedding blood, sweat and tears, he was leaving his sons a business that was in a far better state than when he had himself taken over. Before he did die, though, he wanted to see Sonny happily settled with a good woman, same as Solly was. But, if he ever did have any relationships with women, he kept them very much to himself. He never actually knew what his eldest son got up to after working hours; in fact, as far as he was aware, he spent his time on his own, inside his van that was parked far away from any of the others. His son’s need to keep himself to himself puzzled him and, considering that Sonny was now thirty-nine, a change of temperament back to the easy-going, kind young man he had been before his sudden, abrupt change didn’t seem likely.
Just then Sam spotted Gemma weaving her way through the high-spirited crowds, heading for the House of Fun. He went to shout a greeting to her but then changed his mind as she would never hear him over the din the punters were making and the reverberating music. Sam and his wife Nell had been furious when Solly, at only sixteen years of age and she only fifteen, had out of the blue introduced Gemma to them as his future intended. Furious not only because she wasn’t one of them and they were well aware of the flak they would have to deal with from the rest of the showmen community for their son’s breach in traditional values, but because Solly had deceived them, carrying on a serious relationship they’d had no idea whatsoever about for over a year.
It transpired that the pair had first met when the then thirteen-year-old Gem had come along with her friend when the fair had been in her town. She had gotten talking to Solly, who had been helping on the ride they had chosen to go on. For both of them it had been instant, all-consuming love. They weren’t to see each other again though for over a year until the fair came back again and this time they vowed not to lose touch. Solly would call Gemma at prearranged times from a telephone box near where the fair was at the time. When the fair was within travelling distance of Gem’s town, she would make excuses to her parents and visit him.
When the relationship was finally revealed – when the pair could not bear to be apart for any longer and decided to get married – Gem’s own parents were equally as outraged as Solly’s were at the proposed union of two people from such differing backgrounds. They warned their daughter that if she went ahead, without their blessing or permission, they would disown her. But, no matter what was thrown at them, the pair were adamant that they were destined for each other and marry they would. Not prepared to wait until they were both of legal age, they did the only thing they could and ran away to Gretna Green. By the time both sets of parents found out it was too late as they were man and wife.
His wise wife knew that if she did not accept Gem into their lives then she would lose her son; another ringmaster would jump at the chance of having someone with Solly’s knowledge and background work for them. After many arguments on the matter, Nell managed to get through to Sam and he grudgingly agreed to accept Gem into the family. After a shaky start, eventually Nell and Gem enjoyed a close mother- and daughter-in-law relationship and Gem was as grieved as Nell’s blood family when she died five years ago at the age of sixty-four. Gem might be an outsider, initially ignorant of showpeople’s ways, but it quickly became apparent by the way she got stuck in not only in her wifely duties but also her eagerness to learn how the fair was run so she could pull her weight, that Nell and Sam’s fears that Solly would regret his choice of partner were unfounded. The rest of the Grundy community, although wary of this unknown incomer at first, soon found themselves warming to Gem’s easy-going nature. Not that she suffered fools gladly! When Nell died, Gem naturally took her place in the care of her husband, making it her business to be sure his living van and clothes were clean and he ate three good meals a day.
Sam couldn’t deny that Gem had weathered well over the years, despite being the mother of two grown-up children and now approaching middle age at thirty-six. She still had a shapely figure and very good legs; apart from a few crows’ lines around her eyes she was still as pretty as she had been when he had first been introduced to her over twenty years ago, although it was now a mature prettiness. Like the men, today she had been up and working since the crack of dawn, cooking a hot meal for the fifteen labourers and twenty gaff lads helping to erect all the rides and safety test them in readiness for opening tonight. Then she’d cleaned their van, updated the business accounts and was now doing her bit manning the pay booth for the House of Fun. Even when the fair closed for the night she would not stop until her family had been fed their supper and everything was ready for when they rose the next morning.
Sheer stubbornness and an amount of still-harboured grudge that he couldn’t seem to let go of, for his son going against showmen tradition and marrying an outsider, prevented him from openly admitting it, but secretly Sam felt Solly had made the right choice in choosing Gem as his partner for life. The pair were perfectly suited and rubbed along very amicably together. They had given Sam two wonderful grandsons who now played their own part in keeping the business flourishing. When all was said and done, Gem must have loved his son very deeply, without any reserves whatsoever, to have given up the future she could have had for the tough one showmen lived.
As he was thinking of his two sons, a momentary wave of sadness washed over Sam. Memories of the three he had lost pushed their way to the surface. Him and Nell had had five sons altogether. Two had died of childhood illnesses then thirty-year-old Joshua had died serving his country in the war, blown to bits by a German Panther tank out in France in 1943. He left behind a wife and two young girls of six and eight, now both teenagers. Nita, sixteen, and eighteen-year-old Rosanna, along with their mother Francine, who they all called Fran. They earned their keep running whatever ride or stall they were assigned to at the time on Sam’s behalf. Solly had been out in France at the time of Joshua’s death, in the same unit in fact, but thankfully had come home safe and sound, the only scars mental ones from the horrors he had witnessed which had taken him a while to learn to bury but, with unwavering support from his family, he had been able to pick up his life again. Sonny had volunteered too. Just how he managed it was a mystery Sonny was keeping to himself as, despite him being a very fit and able-bodied young man at the time, he’d spent the entire war working in the stores at various army camps around Britain. Thankfully, like Solly, he had come home safe and sound.
Losing children, no matter how old, was a terrible happening that was never gotten over. Over time you just learned to live with it and Sam knew that despite the fact that Nell superficially appeared to put all three of her children’s deaths behind her and got on with caring for those living, she never got over their loss. As Sam would, she went to her grave grieving for them.
Just then his musings were interrupted by a tug on his jacket and he looked down to see a scruffy young boy of about nine looking enquiringly up at him.
‘Eh up, mister. You the fair boss?’
Hiding a smile, Sam took his pipe out of his mouth and answered in his usual polite but gruff manner, looking at him like he’d a cheek to be accosting such an important figure. ‘I certainly am. And what would you be wanting to speak to the boss about?’
‘A job. I wanna be a fair man.’
Being asked for work was a daily occurrence and it wasn’t the first time by someone so young who believed that running away to work for the fair was a good way of getting out of going to school. ‘You do, do yer.’ Sam looked the boy up and down, then said matter-of-factly, ‘Well come back when you’re fifteen and I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Fifteen!’ the boy exclaimed. ‘Why that’s… that’s…’ Not being able to do the calculation in his head whilst still realising that, regardless, it was many years he’d to wait to reach that age, he then lied, ‘I am fifteen, mister, just small for me age.’
Remembering a comical quip his mother used to make whenever she saw anyone who was on the short side, Sam put his pipe back into his mouth and sucked on it before he said dryly, ‘Your mother obviously didn’t put any horse manure in your shoes to help you grow when you were little, then.’
The boy gawped at him blankly for a moment before he shook his head, dismayed. ‘No, she didn’t. Is that what your mam did for you and why you’ve growed so tall?’
Again Sam hid a smile. ‘She certainly did but I wouldn’t recommend it as it doesn’t smell nice and you can forget having any friends. Best way to grow tall and strong is to eat all your greens. Now you go home, son, and do as I advise. When you’ve shot up another couple of foot or so, then come back and see me and I’ll see what I can do for yer. Now you’d best get back to your mam and dad before they notice you missing and raise the alarm.’
The boy nonchalantly shrugged. ‘Ain’t got no dad and me mam don’t care where I am. She’s gone down the pub with me new Uncle ’arry. When she went out she just told me to behave meself till she got back. She’s always telling me that she wished she’d never had me as I get in her way so I thought if I got a job she wouldn’t have the bother of me no more.’
Sam looked sadly at him. He wondered how many ‘uncles’ this poor lad had had over his short life and, more to the point, how they all actually treated him, which he didn’t expect was in much of a parental way considering how he gathered his own mother did from what the lad had told him. He didn’t look at all well fed and his clothes had seen much better days. Sam’s eyes darkened angrily. He himself might not have been the best of fathers compared to some, but he had done his best; loved, nurtured and encouraged all three of his surviving children and him or Nell always knew where they were, morning, noon and night, until they were both satisfied they were mature enough to take care of themselves. Some people didn’t deserve to have children and it was his opinion that this lad’s mother certainly didn’t.
He looked at him. ‘Had a go on any of the rides, boy?’
The lad shook his head as he took a longing look at the rides nearby before back down at his feet and shuffling uncomfortably on them. He muttered, ‘Nah. Ain’t got no money. I asked Mam if she would bring me but she said she can’t afford it.’
But she could afford to go to the pub, thought Sam. He shoved his hand in his trouser pocket and pulled out two half crowns, went to hand the boy one of them, then changed his mind and held out both, telling him, ‘Go and enjoy yourself and get a hot dog from the stall too, eh. Then get yourself off home as I don’t want you wandering about here without an adult with you when the big boys start rolling in after a visit to the pub.’
The boy looked in awe for a moment at the fortune being offered him, then quickly snatched it before his benefactor changed his mind. ‘Oh, ta, mister.’ Before he dashed off to follow Sam’s instructions he said, ‘Soon as I’m fifteen, I’ll be back.’
With that the he shot off and instantly disappeared amongst the crowds.
His pipe had gone out and as Sam relit it his thoughts were all on the young boy. He so wished he could have offered the dreadfully deprived youngster a home here at the fair. One of the families would have taken him in; fairfolk were generous people when it came to opening their arms to anyone in desperate need, especially someone like that young boy. The life they gave him in comparison to the one he had now might have lacked in certain quarters such as regular school attendance and easy access to medical aid when needed but, overall, it was a damned sight better than the one Sam suspected he was living now.
As he journeyed around, Sam was gratified to note that most of the stalls had people at them, playing the offered games of chance, accuracy of aim, physical strength or buying confectionary, cheap toys, bric-a-brac or fairground glass. All the attractions, amongst them the carousel – or gallopers as the fairfolk knew them – Hall of Mirrors, House of Fun, helter-skelter, waltzers, Wall of Death, the big wheel, boxing booth, sky chairs and several kiddies’ rides. The favourite with the punters at the moment, the dodgem cars, although not full to capacity as it was still early in the evening, were whizzin’ about, generating shrieking and laughing. Even Gypsy Velda Rose – although it was doubtful she actually was a gypsy and just where she did come from no one knew as Velda was very private person, extremely tight-lipped on her past history, but regardless her customers seemed very happy with her predictions – had a queue beginning to form at her red-and-yellow striped, dome-shaped tent with boards outside advertising her talents and announcing, whether actually true or not, that those from the royalty and stars of screen and stage were amongst her customers. Tonight looked set to be a profitable one, not just for him but for all the Grundy community. Sam hoped this was a good sign that the rest of the week here would be too, along with the rest of the season so that they would all be warm, well-fed and have enough funds to repair and re-decorate stalls, rides and living accommodation over the winter break.
Nearby, thirty-eight-year-old, tall, muscular, snake-hipped Sonny Grundy, his skin darkly tanned from his years of working out in the open, was lolling in a chair in the small room in the centre of the Sky Chairs, one foot up on the panel as he operated the controls and changed records on the record player that relayed music through the tannoy system blaring from the speakers outside. Getting a signal from one of the gaff lads that all the customers wanting to ride were strapped into their seats, Sonny pulled the lever for the ride to start. As the chairs started to slowly rotate then lift up, he reached behind his ear to retrieve a half-smoked roll-up which he lit with a battered old brass petrol lighter, a relic from his army days. The lighter had a deep dent in the middle which had happened after he was demobbed when he had accidentally dropped it onto a metal strut of a ride he was helping to erect at the time, squashing it against another. He would brag to women he wanted to impress, amongst other well-practised, persuasive charms that he used on them, that the lighter saved his life in the war as luckily it was in his breast pocket when a German sniper decided to take aim at him. It was a blatant lie as, during all his six years in the army, he never saw active duty; had managed to completely fool a gullible young, newly qualified doctor, and the powers-that-be after, that he suffered epileptic fits. Even he marvelled at how he’d gotten away with it for six years, but he had.
Combing long fingers through his thick thatch of black hair – no grey yet that he needed to disguise with hair dye – Sonny looked at his watch and his ruggedly handsome features twisted in frustration. It was only seven-thirty and he had thought it was at least an hour later than that. He couldn’t wait for closing time so he could make his escape and take advantage of the night life this town offered.
Sonny was far from content with his life and hadn’t been for an extremely long time. It hadn’t always been like that for him. Up until he was approaching his twentieth birthday he had been a happy-go-lucky young man, content with a nomadic lifestyle that his ancestors had lived for hundreds of years, immensely proud of his family. He was especially proud of his father for his hard work in building on the legacy his own father had left him of two stalls, and transforming the business to what it was now. Sonny had willingly worked long, labour-intensive hours doing a diversity of work, from fixing machinery to operating the rides, doing his bit to keep the fair successful.
But his view of life and the future he then envisaged for himself had completely changed.
Even as a teenager, Sonny had always been aware of his good looks and, as his mother was always telling him, he had a charm about him of the sort that attracted the birds from the trees. He took advantage of it when he did have a fancy for the girl concerned, one willing to share their body with him. Regardless, he was in no rush to settle down despite an amount of envy for his two brothers having found themselves good women to share their lives with and enjoying all the comforts a good marriage brought. Deep down he wanted that for himself, so he was always on the lookout for that someone special.
Then, one evening, completely out of the blue, there she was. She was riding on the waltzers with her friends. The most beautiful creature he had ever seen with a very shapely figure; long colt-like legs, large breasts, cornflower-blue eyes and a mane of golden blonde hair that cascaded down her back. She had an invisible aura that drew Sonny to her like a magnet did metal. For him it was instant, unadulterated love. The world around him suddenly faded into oblivion and all he could see was her.
All he could think about was making contact with her. He immediately abandoned his post, shot over to the waltzer ride, ran up the wooden steps and, whilst the ride was still speeding around, expertly timed a jump to land on the back of the carriage the girl was sitting in, unmindful that his foolhardy actions could have killed him.
Right from the off she made it apparent that his flirtations were not offensive or unwanted; she giggled at his suggestive banter as she batted her eyelashes at him, openly encouraging him to carry on. By the end of the ride she had agreed to meet him alone at closing time around the back of the Cake Walk.
Wanting her to know that he thought her special to him, that he wasn’t with her only for one thing, he asked her if she’d like to go to a club or somewhere that opened late that served food, but she refused. She just wanted to go for a walk down by the canal. He was happy to oblige. He would follow her to the ends of the earth if that was what she wanted. As they talked he learned she was a few months younger than he was, lived a few streets away, which he knew to be a slum area of town, in a rented two-up two-down terrace with her parents and two younger brothers. Her father was a drunken wastrel, her mother a cleaner and she herself worked as a machinist in the same factory her mother worked for. She was funny, intelligent and very sexy. Her name was Belinda.
For the first time since he’d been sexually active he was nervous around a woman and worried witless he was acting more schoolboyish than grown man in his efforts to show her he saw her as more to him than a one night-stand. To his relief, if she noticed he was over-anxious to impress his good qualities on her, she made no reference to it. He was, though, most shocked when she stopped by a clearing on the tow path, encouraged him to sit down with her, then made it abundantly clear she wanted him to make love to her. Usually it was him leading the way in that respect. But, again, he was happy to oblige. Anything Belinda wanted that was in his power to provide, he would give her. He was putty in her hands.
For the next five nights, as soon as Sonny finished work, he would find her waiting for him and she would lead him to the secluded place down the canal tow path and, after a short time making small talk, she would lead the way to them having sex. The more time he spent with her, the more their partings grew ever-increasingly difficult for him. She was like an intoxicating drug and the more he had, the more he wanted. His life had no meaning whatsoever without her by his side. As far as he was concerned she seemed as besotted with him as he was with her and she didn’t give him any reason not to believe she didn’t see her future with him.
Usually, by the last night of the fair, Sonny was ready to move on to pastures new, but this time the thought of leaving Belinda behind – having a long-distance relationship with her, maybe not seeing her for weeks on end and the worrying possibility of some other man snatching her away from him in the meantime – did not appeal at all. He wanted her by his side permanently. He would ask her to marry him. Joshua had married a showman’s daughter and his parents had been extremely happy with the union, but he knew they would play merry hell with him as they had when Solly had announced he was marrying a flattie. But, same as Solly, it was his right to choose who he married and his parents would just have to accept he’d picked Belinda.
They had just made love and were lying, exhausted, in the secluded clearing, looking up at the stars. Knowing it was now or never, Sonny propped himself up on one arm and, looking down at her adoringly, blurted, ‘I love you, Belinda. Please marry me? Come with me when we leave tomorrow and I’ll go to the nearest registry office and get a special licence. We’ll run away to Gretna Green if you want to. One of my brothers did that when he married his wife and said it was very romantic. My folks will get us a nice van to live in as a wedding present like they did my brothers when they both got married. We’ll be so happy together, Bel; you, me and our kids, I know we will. You’ll love the fair life. Travelling around, not being tied down to one place.’ And, wanting her to know that one day he might be more than just a worker on the fair, he told her, ‘My family own the fair. When my father dies my elder brother, Joshua, will inherit the business but Dad will also leave me and my brother Solly one of the rides each. So you’ll be the wife of a ride owner,’ he said proudly. ‘So what do you say, Belinda?’
To his utter shock an immediate expression of delight and her acceptance of his proposal did not come but instead she started to laugh. Frowning in confusion, he asked, ‘What’s so funny, Bel? You do want to marry me, don’t you?’
She scanned his face and mirthfully snorted. ‘My God, you’re serious, aren’t you? I thought you were just having a laugh.’
He frowned, even more confused. ‘You think I would ask you to spend the rest of your life with me just to give you a laugh?’
She sat up and started straightening her clothes. ‘What on earth makes you think I would lower myself to tie myself to the likes of you. You’re just a traveller, gypsy—’
Sitting bolt upright he indignantly exclaimed, ‘I damned well am not a traveller or gypsy. My family are showmen.’
She sniggered. ‘Same difference. All thieving lowlifes to us. I half expected to find my purse emptied every night I’ve left you and was quite surprised it wasn’t, to be honest, knowing well your lot’s reputation for pinching anything that moves. And you’re all illiterate because you don’t go to school. I bet you sign your name with an X.’ She gave a violent shudder. ‘Oh, just the thought of living in one of those damp, cold huts on wheels fills me with dread. I can’t imagine for the life of me how you survive living not much better than cavemen did.’ She then eyed him incredulously. ‘I can’t believe you would ever think that I would ever want to live like that! Cooking meals over an open fire outside with no running water inside or proper toilets. This week with you has been fun, but that’s all it’s been for me, so if you thought there was more to it on my part then more fool you. Anyway, even if I had fallen for you, I could never take you home. My parents would have a dicky fit, would disown me if they thought for a minute I was thinking of marrying a fairground worker. Sooner me marry the local gangster. They’d never hold their heads up again. The neighbours would have a field day. I’d never dare tell my friends I’ve been seeing you as they would be disgusted with me for having anything to do with someone like you.’ She paused for breath and gave him the once-over, smiling at what she saw before adding, ‘I couldn’t help myself, though. You’re a hell of a good-looking man, Sonny Grundy, and I’ve had the best sex with you I imagine I’ll ever have. Be something to look back on, won’t it, when I’m bored with my husband after being married to him for years.’ She then eyed him regretfully. ‘If only you weren’t a gypsy and had a good job that would keep me in the style I want for myself, then me and you… Well… Let’s say things might have been entirely different.’ She grabbed her handbag, jumped up and looked down at him, shooting him a winning smile. ‘Next time your fair comes here I’ll stop by and say hello and if we’re both free…’ She left the rest of the words hanging in the air, knowing he would know what she was insinuating. Then she turned and swanned off down the tow path to disappear into the darkness.
He stared after her blindly, the wonderful future he had planned with her shattered into smithereens. The pain of hurt and devastation flooding his entire being was immeasurable. Whilst he had fallen head over heels in love with her, had been planning their future together, all she had seen him for was to use him for sex and a memory to look back on when she was old and grey. A vice-like grip clamped his heart, like an invisible hand had ripped open his chest and was tearing it out. Now he realised just why she had turned down his offer of going to a nightclub or having a meal in a public place as she didn’t want to risk being seen with him by anyone she knew. She didn’t want them to look down on her for associating herself with an illiterate fairground worker.
Whilst growing up he had witnessed many situations of outsiders acting hostile towards the fairfolk community and had suffered them himself. The children at the array of schools he, his brothers and other fairfolk children had attended, had made fun and mercilessly bullied them, sometimes the teachers too. Numerous times he’d witnessed his mother and other fairfolk women being refused to be served in shops, glared at like they were dirt, even spat at, but he had always believed what his mother had told him; that flatties were jealous they had the fair facilities permanently at their own disposal so could have fun whenever they wanted, not have to wait for a year in-between. She also told them flatties were jealous of their travelling way of life; riding through beautiful countryside, sampling life in a different towns and villages every week when they themselves were permanently stuck in one place in a grim street surrounded by factories whose chimneys blotted out the sky with their belching black smoke. But now, thanks to Belinda, he knew his mother had lied to him. Outsiders saw showmen as scourges of society, only to be tolerated for a few hours every night for a week once a year while they enjoyed the entertainment they were offering. Otherwise they most certainly didn’t want them mixing amongst them in their own communities.
A deep-seated need to make Belinda pay for her callous treatment of him ignited, then began to overwhelm and consume him. But not just her; all outsiders.
And there was his brother too. He resented Solly for achieving something he hadn’t. Solly had obviously got a special something about him that he himself did not possess. Gem was an outsider and came from a far better background than Belinda did, yet Solly had worked that magic he had to make her want to leave her life behind and live the one he was offering her. Why hadn’t he got that quality that would have made Belinda want to turn her back on her own life for the one he was offering her? The love, respect and admiration he had always felt for his younger brother was swept away like a tidal wave and replaced with deep bitterness toward him. It wasn’t fair that Solly had got the woman he wanted and he hadn’t.
So just how was he going to make Belinda and all outsiders pay for their unjustified, superior attitudes towards him… because this was all about him as he didn’t care about other fairfolk now. If they were willing to keep turning a blind eye to how outsiders felt about and treated them just because they needed their money to survive on, then that was up to them, but he wasn’t prepared to. But how could he make them pay? As it was he hadn’t at this moment any idea how he was going to come face to face with any of them in future and not stop himself from being civil. But the money they spent at the fair paid his own keep so, regardless what he felt about them, he would still have to act congenially towards them by way of encouragement to spend that money in his father’s fair. What an impossible situation to find himself in.
Then an idea struck. He could act hospitable towards flatties in future if he himself knew that he was reaping his vengeance from them for their undeserved opinions of him. It was just a pity that what he had in mind as a way to do it, they themselves wouldn’t know. Still, he would, and until he thought of something better, for now that would suffice for Sonny. Outsiders believed him to be a thief living a debauched life, so he would be. It would no longer be just the gaff lads that fleeced them of their money as he would too. And he would then use his stolen gains to fund his fun in their pubs, clubs and gambling dens. He would use his looks and charm to bed their women and then cast them aside like they were trash – just as Belinda had him. One thing was for certain though; he would never give his heart to another woman and risk having it broken so callously again, whether she be one of his own kind or an outsider. The pain he was suffering, the devastation and humiliation; he was never putting himself through it again.
From that moment gone was the happy-go-lucky, affable Sonny to be replaced by a sullen, surly young man, harbouring a deep grudge against life.
At the first opportunity he rounded up the gaff lads and warned them that in future he wanted half their tapping money every night and if any should try and hold out on him, then not only would they be out of a job but they should expect to get a long stay in hospital in intensive care. With the money he made from them and by short-changing the customers himself, he also fleeced his father by withholding some of the ride money he’d taken each night. He was clever enough never to arouse suspicions in the shrewd older man of what he was doing and persuaded his parents it was time for him to live on his own. He knew, deep down, they would offer to pay for a van for him; the same as they had for his brothers. As soon as he finished work of a night, he rid himself of all traces of his showman’s life to become a smart young man about town seeking fun for himself in the local community, socializing with all those that would never voluntarily breathe the same air as him outside of the fairground.
Then Britain declared war on Germany and, as a result, all places of entertainment –including travelling fairs – were ordered to close and men of his age called up to join the Forces. Before Belinda had caused her damage on him, Sonny would have been amongst the first, standing proud by his brothers’ sides in the queue signing up to fight for his king and country, but now he was putting off the deed until he had no choice, as he was adamant: why put his own life at risk to protect people that thought so disparagingly of him?
But, as matters stood, it seemed Sonny would have no choice but risk life and limb for those he had no care for. A man had to have a serious illness or deformity to have any chance of being excused. He was fit and in good health. He could always claim he was a conscientious objector but that meant he could land in jail or be sent down the mines and, regardless, he fancied neither. After the war ended he wouldn’t be welcome in either the outsiders’ community or that of the showmen as neither would accept a traitor to their country living in their midst. The only life facing him then would be that of a vagrant.
But just when he had begun to accept that there was no justifiable reason he could use to avoid joining up, a possible way to at least avoid being sent to the frontline presented itself. It was the day before he had been ordered to register to serve and he was helping his father. Joshua and Solly had both already volunteered and were at training camp awaiting their postings by then. Sonny, along with three other men from the Grundy community who were too old to join the forces, was storing all the fairground equipment in a large storage facility. One of the storage yard’s employees, a young man around Sonny’s own age, suddenly collapsed to the floor, his body wildly jerking, eyes rolling around in their sockets. As they all stood helplessly looking down at the man, not having a clue what was wrong with him or what to do to help him for the best, the wife of the storage yard owner came running over. She threw herself down beside the convulsing man, whipped off her cardigan, balled it up and placed it under his head, loosened his tie, then spoke soothingly to him until the jerking stopped. Then she immediately rolled him onto his side. She looked up at the men looking worriedly down and told them he would be alright now. She asked if they would carry him into the house to rest on the sofa for a while until he was well enough to return to work.
Not at all out of concern for an outsider but purely out of curiosity, Sonny asked the woman what had caused the young man to convulse like that. She explained that he’d suffered an epileptic fit which could come on at any time. His illness had resulted from when, as a young boy, he had been struck by a falling roof tile from a house he was passing at the time. It was such a shame for him too, as he was desperate to do his bit for the war effort, but his illness was severe enough to exempt him from actual fighting. Regardless, the authorities were looking to see what else his illness wouldn’t prevent him from doing towards aiding the war effort.
Sonny was elated. This was the perfect excuse for him to avoid putting his own life at risk for people he had no allegiance with. A safe job, away from harm, would suit him fine. Convincing a doctor of his disability was another matter though.
After reporting to the recruiting office and filling out forms, the next stage was a doctor’s examination to determine that he was fit enough to fight. Praying that the doctor would fall for the act he was about to put on, it was with great trepidation that Sonny walked into the doctor’s office. As luck would have it, the old stalwart of a doctor that usually did the examinations was off sick and a newly qualified doctor, who looked like he was still a school boy to Sonny with his slight frame and boyish face, had been called in to cover his duties.
The examination was just about concluded and the doctor about to inform him, Sonny knew, he had passed with flying colours, when Sonny decided now was the time to put his plan in action. Copying exactly what he’d witnessed happen to the young man at the yard, he suddenly fell into a dead heap on the floor, wildly jerked his body and rolled around his eyes, carrying this on for at least a minute, then pretended to pass out, lying dead still as the young man had done. During his act he felt the doctor put a pillow under his head and, as soon as he’d halted his jerking body, he rolled him over on his side.
A while later, now sitting on a chair, the doctor perched on the edge of his desk looking at him concernedly. Sonny said, faking a worried tone, ‘It happened again did it, doc? I passed out?’
The boyish-faced doctor solemnly nodded and said, ‘This has happened before, then?’
Conscious that the doctor would question why he hadn’t been to a doctor about this condition already, he responded. ‘It’s happened once before, just after I got knocked on the head by a metal strut when we was dismantling a ride the other week. I was on my own in my living van so I didn’t know what had happened to me until I came around and noticed time had passed so I knew I’d passed out.’
‘And you never went to see a doctor about it?’
‘I’m a fairground worker, doc. Not easy for us to get to see a doctor, not that I’ve got the money to pay his bill either. I didn’t think it was serious anyway.’ He then looked at him worriedly. ‘Why, do you think I have got something serious?’
‘How serious, I’m not sure. But from what happened just now I’d say you have been experiencing epileptic fits caused by the bump to your head you told me about. This might not happen again but, if it does, you’ll need to go and see a doctor immediately and be properly examined. You might be given treatment to control the seizures. In the meantime I can’t pass you as fighting fit and while we wait and see whether this happens again and whether you are epileptic or not, the army will assign you to a desk or stores job or suchlike.’
Sonny feigned dismay. ‘So I won’t be allowed to fight?’
‘I’m afraid not, Mr Grundy.’ Then he added optimistically, ‘If you don’t have another fit for a good period of time and it transpires you aren’t epileptic after all, then that’s a different matter. But just thank goodness you had a seizure whilst you were here and not whilst you had a gun in your hand or you might accidentally have shot yourself or one of your colleagues.’ He smiled at Sonny sympathetically as he stood up and went around the desk to complete the paperwork.
Sonny hid a smile of triumph, thinking: Thank God it was you I saw and not the older, far more experienced doctor that might not have been so easily fooled.
He did have several more fits at necessary intervals when it seemed he was being looked at by those above as medically sound to join the fighting force. So, whilst Joshua and Solly were risking life and limb with thousands of others in France and Italy, Sonny was risking nothing helping to run stores in several different camps in the north of England. He had himself a ball in his spare time; dancing, gambling and drinking his pay away and having sex with any of the local girls willing to give their bodies to him. Some of Sonny’s peers made themselves nice little nest eggs through being in league with local black-market racketeers. Much to Sonny’s rancour, he was working alongside very patriotic types that wouldn’t entertain the idea of betraying their country by being involved in such activities, so his chances to make any money on the side was very limited and extremely risky. So, when he was demobbed, he did not have an illicitly gained wad of bank notes in his pocket but just a few pounds above his allowance he’d managed to put by.
His family never learned the truth of just how it was that Solly was pronounced unfit to fight when, as far as they were concerned, Sonny was as fit and healthy as his elder and younger brother, who both passed their medicals with flying colours. Regardless, he was welcomed home as much a hero as Solly was, and all mourned together the loss of Joshua.
Sonny was sad his elder brother had died; he had loved him very much. That said, his death would prove very fortunate for him. Now he was the eldest living son and that meant that when his father died, he would be his heir and the fair would be his. With the kind of money at his disposal from the sale of it, he would find himself in a far better position to come up with a superior plan for getting outsiders to suffer for their untoward ill feeling against him. He had plenty of time to come up with an idea as his father was still hale and hearty and had a good few more years in him yet, but patience was a virtue – or so he had heard. The longer he waited for vengeance to be reaped, the sweeter it would be. Until the time came, he was content to carry on getting it the way he had before the war had disrupted him.
Sonny ground the tip end of his roll-up in an overflowing astray and looked disinterestedly out the window of the small, central operating room. Through the whizzing chairs he spotted his father in his trademark striped jacket, hobbling amongst the crowds and checking all was well. For a moment he felt a flicker of guilt over what he planned to do with his father’s beloved fair once he was dead but that quickly passed. His father could have sold the fair at any time and done whatever he wanted with the proceeds but, instead, he had chosen to keep it running to support his family. Sonny had no family to support and no children to leave the business to when he passed on so, as far as he was concerned, he had no need to feel any guilt for what he planned to do with it once it became his. His lip then curled sardonically and he sniggered to himself. Solly was under the false illusion that all his labour was in order to keep the business profitable to provide him and his family a living and for generations to come. He couldn’t wait to see Solly’s face when he discovered that all his effort had been purely to fund his brother’s future, not his own. But, far more importantly, how would Gem cope? She had given up a very privileged lifestyle to marry Solly, but would she be prepared to live the far more frugal one as the wife of a mere fairground worker? Hopefully she wouldn’t be prepared to and would leave Solly to return back to her old way of life. To lose the love of his life, Sonny knew, without doubt, would devastate his brother far more than the loss of the fair would. Then Solly would know just what it felt like to have his life shattered at the hands of a woman, just like he himself had.