‘Dear God, there is just no upside to this.’ I articulated the thought, as I pulled back my bedroom curtains and peered out at the blustery, dank and extremely wet day; grim beyond its late April situation on the calendar. I sighed. He would be here in forty-five minutes and I still had to breakfast, shower and check the kit list with which I had been issued. I walked to my bedside table, picked up my phone and re-read the text Hugh had sent earlier in the week.
I confirm that I have booked two standard double rooms at The George at a cost of £97 per room. This is inclusive of breakfast on Sunday morning. I will be picking you up at 10 a.m. on Saturday. Do not forget a packed lunch. As discussed, your costume has been arranged and you can collect it on arrival. There will be a number of layers to it but the location is an exposed hillside and depending upon the weather (rain is forecast), you may well need a waterproof to wear when not in character. I suggest you wear walking boots. Any colour is acceptable as your feet will be hidden by your costume…
I put my phone down, feeling unable to read any further just yet, and headed for the shower.
Forty minutes later and I was dressed in jeans, t-shirt and walking boots and sitting in the living room, cradling on my lap a fleece, waterproof trousers, waterproof jacket and a rucksack which contained my overnight things and, of course, a packed lunch. I sighed and realised that this might be in the running to be my worst weekend away ever. Of course, there had been the time an ex had taken me on a mystery mini-break for my birthday, telling me to pack for lots of walking. I had then spent two days in Paris dressed like a member of the Ramblers Association. That had been pretty bad but, try as I might, I couldn’t come up with anything as dreadful as this.
I was just considering feigning illness, either physical, psychological, or both, when the doorbell rang. Deciding it was simply too late for quality artifice, I hauled myself up and, with the air of a condemned woman, bravely resigned myself to my fate.
‘This is Barry.’ After just over an hour’s drive, psychologically extended to approximately one year by tedious conversation, Hugh and I had finally reached our destination; the expansive flat summit of a chalk escarpment in Wiltshire. In the distance, I could see the parked motor-homes and pitched tents of the Civil War enthusiasts who would be re-enacting the Battle of Roundway Down for a large (so I had been told) crowd later that day.
‘Barry,’ continued Hugh, his hand resting on the shoulder of a stout, heavily-bearded man in his late fifties, ‘is one of the principal co-ordinators of today’s event. It is thanks to Barry, that you are able to join in.’
‘Thank you, Barry,’ I said, astonished at the level of apparent sincerity I managed to inject into the phrase. ‘It’s very kind of you and I’m really looking forward to the day.’
‘Well, we don’t let non-members participate as a rule,’ Barry smiled. ‘But when Hugh explained the situation and how very keen you were to experience a re-enactment, we of course said yes. Hugh is one of our most experienced, knowledgeable and dedicated members. He has been of invaluable help with the website and with publicity.’ He gazed up at Hugh so adoringly that I feared for a moment he might actually kiss him.
To his credit, Hugh looked mildly uncomfortable. ‘Not at all, not at all,’ he said quietly, whilst fastening his waxed jacket. ‘I wonder, Barry, if you could briefly explain to Alice, what she’ll be doing today.’
‘Delighted,’ beamed Barry. ‘Well, today, Alice,’ he said, ‘you will be one of our ladies.’
‘That’ll make a pleasant change,’ I laughed.
Neither Hugh nor Barry seemed to enjoy the joke quite as much as I did, but Barry smiled kindly, whilst Hugh’s torso moved in a manner which seemed to indicate a suppressed sigh. ‘Sorry, Barry,’ I said. ‘I’ll be quiet. You carry on.’
‘How about we talk as we walk?’ he said, jovially. ‘Let’s head over to the tents.’
‘I’ll say goodbye now then,’ said Hugh suddenly. ‘You can contact me by phone, if there’s a signal. And we could possibly meet for lunch. If not, I will see you at the end of the day.’
‘Oh, so we’re not going to be together today then?’ I asked, looking up at him.
Barry laughed. ‘You’re on different sides, Alice.’
‘We are?’ I looked at Hugh.
‘I’m a Royalist,’ he said, failing to make eye contact and instead addressing my forehead – something which made me want to stand on tiptoe in an attempt to meet his gaze. ‘You’re a Parliamentarian today, with a Roundhead regiment.’
‘Oh, I see.’ I blinked, surprised to discover that I was not entirely happy with the idea of separation.
‘That’s right,’ said Barry. ‘Now, I don’t want to hurry you, Alice, but I’ve got some artillery to check in a moment, so if I could just get you over to the ladies that would be great.’
‘Sorry, yes.’ I looked at Hugh. ‘Well, I guess I’ll see you later, then.’
‘You will,’ he said, holding up a hand and starting to walk away.
I turned to find Barry already striding off in the direction of a group of women, one or two of whom were now in costume, wearing heavy dresses, aprons, shawls and Puritan caps. I hurried to catch him up and soon he was introducing me to two of my fellow ladies. Each greeted me warmly although also, I couldn’t help noticing, with a few sidelong glances at each other.
‘So, this is Alice,’ said Barry. ‘Alice, this is the lovely Val and this divine creature,’ he pointed towards a short, rosy-cheeked woman, ‘is my wife, Tina. Tina will be keeping an eye on you today and has a costume for you which you can pop on in our motor-home. You’ve plenty of time. The first skirmish won’t kick off for a good couple of hours yet.’
‘Hello, Alice,’ said Tina, looking, I thought, just a little anxious. ‘Now, I think I better say right away that there has been a misunderstanding as regards your costume.’ Val solemnly nodded her assent.
‘A misunderstanding?’ queried Barry, now also looking worried.
Tina turned to him. ‘I’m afraid when you told me to add an eight to ten to the list, I thought you meant an age eight to ten.’ She looked me up and down. ‘The dress I’ve got would barely cover your knees.’
Relief flooded through me. ‘Oh dear, but you mustn’t worry,’ I gushed. ‘I’m more than happy just to watch, you know.’
Barry looked stern. ‘Well, I must say I’m rather disappointed. Alice has been looking forward to this for some weeks now.’
‘Really,’ I touched his arm, ‘watching will be very exciting, I’ve never—’
‘I know there’s no one at fault here,’ continued Barry. ‘It’s just a silly misunderstanding and I’m as much to blame as anyone but, as I say, I am very disappointed, not to mention a little embarrassed.’
We stood there unspeaking; a sombre circle of four. It was Val who broke the silence. ‘There’s always Ken’s costume,’ she said quietly.
‘Ken?’ Barry appeared confused.
‘Ken Lane,’ Val continued. ‘He’s down with a tummy bug so his costume is up for grabs. And what’s more he is…’ At this point she sucked in her cheeks and described the shape of a long thin rectangle with her hands.
Unhappy with the trajectory of the conversation, I raised a hand, ‘Look, I honestly don’t want to be a—’
‘But Ken is a man, Val,’ said Barry. ‘I know you’re trying to help,’ he continued gently, ‘but I can’t hand the girl a pike and shove her into a skirmish.’ He turned to me. ‘Sorry, Alice, I know you’re keen,’ I nodded, judging it best to let the mistaken assumption slide, ‘but these things are carefully choreographed and it would be dangerous to allow you to participate untrained.’
I smiled. ‘I fully understand and—’
‘I’m not suggesting Alice actually fights, Barry,’ said Val. ‘She could just hold the pike and be in costume and that way she can be a character and sit with us. Otherwise she’ll be on her own all day and that won’t be any fun.’
‘But would she really want to dress as a man?’ Barry asked. ‘She doesn’t want to be plodding round wearing heavy boots, a helmet and a breast plate. And the pikes are very heavy.’ I found myself warming to Barry. ‘That’d be very unpleasant for the girl.’
Tina’s eyes glistened dangerously. ‘I think you mean woman, Barry,’ she interjected, ‘and of course it wouldn’t be a problem. We might be re-enacting a 17th century battle but we’re living in the 21st century.’ She pursed her lips. ‘You’d do well to try to remember that from time to time.’
Barry lowered his eyes and I could, to my horror, see him weakening in the face of a feminist onslaught. Tina pressed home her advantage. ‘What do you think, Alice?’ She turned to me. ‘You don’t look one bit like a lipstick and fancy nails kind of woman to me.’
Feeling slightly crushed by this assessment, I scrambled for an avenue of escape from the situation. ‘Well,’ I said, turning to Barry, who remained my one, slim hope, ‘if you’re sure there are no health and safety… or insurance… or legal problems…?’
Barry shook his head sadly. ‘None that I can think of,’ he said, ‘so long as you don’t actually join in a fray.’
I turned to Val. ‘And Ken won’t mind? Isn’t his costume quite precious to him?’
Val laughed. ‘Even if it was, he can’t get off the loo right now, so he won’t notice it’s missing.’ My face dropped. ‘Oh, I’m only joking, Alice,’ she said, rubbing my arm. ‘Don’t you worry about him, love. He’s not that unwell. He just needs to sleep.’
‘That’s sorted then,’ said Tina briskly. ‘Disaster averted.’
‘Yes,’ said Barry, looking, I thought, as defeated as I felt.
I forced a smile. ‘Well, thank you for sorting that out for me. I’m sorry to have been such a bother.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Tina. ‘It was our fault and our problem to put right. All’s well that ends well and Ken’s costume will fit you a treat. You’re actually a very similar build.’ Her eyes lingered disconcertingly on my chest. ‘Lovely and slim,’ she added kindly.
Barry sighed. ‘Right, well, I shall leave you ladies – you women,’ he corrected himself hastily, ‘to sort all that out. I’m off to check the artillery.’
‘See you later then,’ said Tina, kissing him lightly on the cheek. ‘And don’t worry, I know you’re a new man really.’
He smiled fondly at her, raised a hand to the rest of us, and headed off in the direction of a gathering group of men, each of whom was carrying a large musket. Behind them, a second group was busily engaged in manoeuvring a large cannon out of a truck. Despite my reluctance to be there, and my growing horror regarding participation, I had to admit to myself that it was all rather fascinating.
‘Right then, Alice,’ said Tina, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Let’s get you over to Ken’s caravan. He’s got his wife Lorraine with him, so she’ll sort you out – we won’t have to disturb him. We’ll just grab the costume and then you can change in my motor-home. Don’t want you catching Ken’s bug. That wouldn’t be any fun, would it?’
I looked at this kind woman and momentarily considered confiding that, actually, vomiting into a bucket in the privacy of a caravan was actually a more appealing prospect than spending the next five hours dressed as a man. But, instead, I restricted myself to what I hoped resembled an excited smile. There was a pause, during which I think both women expected me to speak. However, fearing that any attempt to vocalise might result in tears, I simply broadened the grin.
‘You know what,’ said Tina at last, taking my arm, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone quite so excited about a re-enactment.’ She turned to Val. ‘Have you?’
Val shook her head. I continued to grin. And off we went.
An hour later and I was again sitting with Val and Tina, enjoying the cup of tea I had just been handed and scolding myself for having been quite so negative about the re-enactment experience. With the exception of the huge, brown, balloon-like plus fours, which were held up under a long leather waistcoat by a piece of thick twine, the rest of my ensemble wasn’t too outsized. The white, collared shirt fitted in the sleeve and Tina had safety-pinned the inside to temporarily take it in. The look was completed by long, grey socks and Ken’s boots. The latter were a couple of sizes too big, but even this didn’t seem too much of a problem, in view of my sedentary role. All in all, I decided, my attire was nothing to grumble about.
I had, it was true, initially been slightly worried about the accessories: a metal breastplate, secured by leather straps, a Pikeman’s pot – an enormous helmet which fell down over my eyes, rendering me both blind and deaf – and, of course, there was the pike itself. I had had no idea that these were so huge. Having imagined it to be the length of an aboriginal spear, I was astonished to be handed a five metre long pole with a spiked metal tip.
‘The thing is, you won’t have to run around with any of that,’ said Val, gesturing at the collection of metal-ware lying on the grass next to me. When you need to be in character, you can just pop it on, stand up and walk a few steps. And, if it feels a bit heavy, I can pop a bandage round your head and you can lie down and pretend to be wounded.’ She took a biscuit from the box which was being passed around our group and then offered me one. ‘Would you like a digestive?’
‘Thank you.’ I took a biscuit and looked towards the gathering crowds. ‘How many spectators are you expecting today?’
‘Several hundred, I should think,’ said Tina, looking at the sky, ‘I just hope the rain holds off.’
‘Will it be cancelled if it rains?’ I asked. I might have come to terms with an afternoon of cross-dressing in dry conditions, but I feared my voluminous plus fours would prove the opposite of comfort wear when damp.
‘Not at this late stage,’ said Val. ‘And the BBC are filming for local news.’ She smiled and pointed towards a camera crew on the other side of the large designated battlefield.
‘I’ll just check the forecast on my phone,’ I said, reaching into my rucksack.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much,’ she said. ‘A little rain doesn’t usually dampen the atmosphere. Kids love the explosions and clashes whatever the weather, and they don’t even realise they’re being educated.’
‘Are the numbers of children ever a problem?’ I asked, whilst experiencing a slight sense of foreboding upon seeing heavy rain symbols spread across the afternoon forecast. ‘Do any of them ever attempt to join in?’
‘Oh no, it’s all very secure,’ said Tina reassuringly. ‘We have lots of marshals to prevent anyone from wandering where they shouldn’t. Any injuries are minor – and always restricted to members.’
‘So people do get hurt then?’
‘Occasionally, but it’s only ever bumps and bruises.’ Val finished her biscuit and brushed the crumbs from her skirt. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘where’s that young man of yours? Royalist or no, he could come and say hello.’
‘Oh, Hugh’s not my boyfriend,’ I said quickly. ‘We’re just friends.’
‘Oh sorry,’ said Val, ‘I got the wrong end of the stick there.’
‘We don’t know each other that well at all, to be honest,’ I said. ‘We were introduced by a mutual friend, who thought we’d get on.’
‘Well,’ said Tina, ‘whether anything comes of it or not, the pair of you will still have had a lovely day out, won’t you?’
I smiled and nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
She returned my smile, patted my arm and then bent down, and picked up my breast plate. ‘What do you say we have a go at putting this on you? See how it feels.’
‘OK,’ I laughed, handing my phone to Val, ‘but you must take a picture of me in the complete uniform, or my friends will never forgive me.’
And then, after an unexpected clap of thunder, it started to rain.