by Pam Howes
He wished he’d never got involved with Alice and her eldest brat in the first place. Even at the age of five Cathy had been a snobby little cow, always turning her nose up at his vague attempts to be her stepfather. Then the other three kids had come along after he’d specifically told Alice he didn’t want any. He hated becoming a father. Knee-deep in dirty nappies, puke and screaming brats was not his idea of fun. Alice could hardly blame him for going elsewhere when all she had to offer were droopy tits, a flabby stomach and a bloody headache, most of the time.
He’d felt trapped for years and blamed Cathy for everything that had gone wrong in his life. She’d accused him of touching her – and this after giving him the come-on, cheeky little tart. She’d flaunted herself in front of him and then made out he was to blame when he’d made a pass. Then she’d cried rape when he tried to show her a bit of loving his way. Her biker boyfriend had beaten him up and injured his tackle so badly with a well-aimed boot that he’d spent a week in hospital. Alice had kicked him out and, homeless, with his faith in women at an all-time low, he’d met barmaid Lorraine. She’d put a roof over his head and food in his belly. But that relationship also ended after he’d been arrested for raping Cathy’s mate in the hospital grounds. Stupid girl shouldn’t have got in the way. He’d been after Cathy but the little blonde nurse had come by first and he’d taken what he could and then cleared off.
Yes, his downfall was all Cathy’s fault. And one day he’d get his own back. Two years into his sentence, he’d got at least another five to do. He’d been told that he might be moved from Walton to another prison in a year or two. He’d no idea where or when, but lived in hope that it wouldn’t be too long and would get him away from the snoring pillock in the bunk above. But knowing his luck it would take forever. He slid out of bed and limped over to the table under the window. His wooden foot was rubbing against the stump of his lower leg today and causing him pain. He’d lost half his foot in a wartime shooting accident and ended up having the rest removed when infection set into the bone, causing him horrendous pain and an addiction to painkillers and alcohol.
Jack switched on his transistor radio, turning the volume up as high as it would go. ‘Jerusalem’ blasted out from the tinny little speaker. Sunday service; he grinned. That’d wake the bastard up good and proper. He lay back down on his bunk, hands behind his head, and stared at the peeling paint on the pale green wall in front of him. The guards would be hammering on the door soon and then they’d both be up and emptying the stinking slop bucket before going downstairs to the canteen for the usual tasteless grey porridge and burnt toast. He thought about the short time he’d spent at Lorraine’s place; the Sunday fry-ups she’d spoiled him with, following an energetic early-morning session. He felt his balls tingling at the memory and groaned, drawing his knees up to his chest. He needed a woman’s touch like he’d never needed it before.
Gianni wiped his oily hands down the front of his faded denim jeans and glanced up to the top of the wall of death barrel, where Luca was talking to Lenny, one of the fairground hands.
‘Want a sandwich, Dad?’ Gianni yelled above the roar of a bike engine as his Uncle Marco rode around the top of the walls, rehearsing his part of the routine he did with Luca.
‘Be with you in a minute, son,’ Luca yelled back. ‘You go on ahead. Tell Maria I’m on my way.’
Gianni strolled across the park to his caravan, where Cathy was sitting on the steps, twiddling her long hair between her fingers. Lucy was playing on the grass with her dollies.
‘You okay, love?’ Gianni dropped a kiss on Cathy’s lips.
She smiled up at him, looped her hair behind her ears and blew down the front of her loose top. ‘I’m too warm,’ she grumbled. ‘I wish it would rain for a while to cool everywhere down.’
Gianni squinted up at the cloudless blue sky, from where the sun beat down relentlessly. ‘Not much chance of that. Anyway, rain puts the punters off and we need the money.’
Cathy sighed and got to her feet. ‘Maria’s waving.’ She waved back. ‘I guess lunch is ready.’ She pulled Lucy to her feet. ‘Go and scrub your hands, mucky daddy, and we’ll see you over at your dad’s place.’
Gianni watched her walk away, his head on one side. Cathy didn’t seem very happy and he wondered why. The caravan probably wasn’t an ideal place to bring up a family and he knew she would have preferred a more conventional way of life, but that wasn’t an option. There was no way he was going back to Liverpool, living in a house and doing the nine-to-five slog each day. Besides, he’d rented out the terraced house that he’d inherited from his mother to Davy and Debs and the couple were well settled with their young son Jonathon. He wouldn’t have the heart to ask them to leave now.
He sighed and went indoors. He rubbed soap into his hands, rinsing them clean under the tap. The water spluttered and came to a stop. The bloody jacks were empty. As if he didn’t have enough to do today; full blown rehearsals with his dad later and then the show tonight. But he’d have to make time to fill them or there’d be no water for showers later. And that would be something for Cathy to pull a face at. He’d told her to be careful and not to waste the water. Might as well as talk to a brick wall. He pulled the door closed behind him, ran down the steps and walked towards his dad and Maria’s caravan.
Cathy told Lucy to sit down on the picnic rug that Maria had put on the grass. She parked herself on a chair beside a small table that was set with glasses and assorted plates and cutlery.
Maria brought out a big platter of sandwiches and a freshly baked quiche, cut into slices. Eloisa followed her mother, carrying a bowl of salad. She put it down on the table and glared at Cathy, who looked away.
Cathy could sense the girl’s jealousy over Gianni. Well tough, he was hers. She saw Eloisa’s eyes light up and a smile spread across her face. Cathy didn’t turn around. There was no need; Gianni was on his way. The only time Eloisa came to life and looked happy was in his company. Lucy clapped her hands and ran to him, squealing a welcome. Gianni picked her up and swung her round and round. She giggled and grabbed his hair.
‘Luca said I can do a routine with you,’ Eloisa announced as Gianni put Lucy down and went to sit on the seat next to Cathy. Then she smirked and walked away, wiggling her backside in tight white shorts, before he had a chance to reply.
He groaned. ‘Sorry, love,’ he muttered to Cathy. ‘I’ll have a word with Dad later. No way did that idea come from me, honestly.’
‘I know.’ Cathy sighed and stroked his arm.
‘Thing is, it’s all the rage now, girls on bikes,’ he said.
‘Not at this fair!’ Maria pursed her lips. ‘She’s not doing it. I won’t allow it.’ She swept away with a swish of skirts, her face red with anger.
Raised voices sounded from the caravan, and then Eloisa stomped down the steps, shot Gianni a look that could kill and ran off towards the rides.
Gianni grinned. ‘When Maria has a go at Dad, that’ll be the end of it,’ he said to Cathy.
Back at the caravan Maria was giving Luca a dressing-down. He turned as Eloisa approached. ‘Why the hell do you tell lies?’ he snapped. ‘You are not riding and I never said you could.’
‘You said you’d think about it,’ Eloisa snapped back.
‘You always mither me when I’m at my busiest,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t aware of what you were asking with all the noise. Anyway, no, you can’t ride, and that’s the end of it.’ He stormed off in the direction of the wall of death barrel, Gianni on his heels. Cathy got up to help Maria tidy the table.
‘And you needn’t look so smug,’ Eloisa yelled at Cathy. ‘It was me Gianni wanted to marry, not you. If I hadn’t lost our baby he would have done too.’
‘It wasn’t Gianni’s baby,’ Cathy said quietly, ‘and you know it.’
‘It might have been, but we’ll never know now, will we.’
‘Eloisa!’ Maria shook her head as Eloisa ran off. ‘I’m so sorry Cathy. Don’t let her comments upset y
ou. She knows full well it wasn’t Gianni’s baby.’
Cathy half-smiled and picked up Lucy, who was sucking her thumb and looking worried. ‘I think I’ll put this little one down for a nap and maybe have a quiet hour to myself. I’m struggling in this heat.’
‘You have a nap too, my love,’ Maria said and gave Cathy a hug. ‘You look wiped out.’
Cathy lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Through the open window she could hear loud voices and the hum of generators, along with a couple of the hands singing. It was too hot to close the window and she couldn’t sleep, even though she felt really tired. Eloisa’s comment about Gianni marrying her sat heavy in her heart. She hated the girl and wished she’d leave the fair. But there was no chance of that. It was all Eloisa knew and there was nowhere else for her to go. She didn’t trust her one little bit around Gianni, the way she flaunted herself, constantly making eyes at him. Ah well, all she could do was put her trust in him. She didn’t think for one minute that he’d ever let her down. But just knowing that he’d been intimate with Eloisa on any level made her feel sick, and the girl would never let her forget it. She turned on her side and closed her eyes, willing herself to drift off while Lucy napped.
A sudden wave of nausea washed over her and she shot off the bed and into the bathroom, where she vomited up her recently consumed lunch. She wiped her face with a damp flannel and brushed her teeth, gagging at the minty flavour of the toothpaste. When she turned the tap to rinse out her mouth, it spluttered but nothing came out; she couldn’t even brush her teeth properly. Feeling cross and unwell, she went to fetch the glass of water from her nightstand.
After rinsing out her mouth, she gripped the edge of the washbasin and stared at her pale reflection in the small mirror fixed to the wall. She took a deep, calming breath and went back into the bedroom. Her handbag was in the wardrobe and she rooted inside it, found her diary and did a quick date check. It was early days, but her period was definitely late, over a week in fact. Coupled with the nausea and spells of sickness, the feeling tired all the time, she was in no doubt that she was pregnant again. She’d felt just the same with Lucy. No doubt this was a honeymoon baby. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Gianni would be thrilled to bits, but the thought of looking after another child in this caravan didn’t exactly make her feel like jumping for joy.
Gianni’s face lit up with a big smile when Cathy broke the news to him in bed that night that she suspected she was pregnant. He kissed her and held her tight.
‘Oh, that’s wonderful,’ he said. ‘I might get a son this time.’
‘You might,’ Cathy agreed. ‘I need to see a doctor soon to confirm it, but all the signs are there. Don’t say anything to anyone just yet until we know for sure.’
‘I won’t. But there’s a doctors’ surgery on the road leading into the park. Maybe you could make an appointment there.’
‘I’ll see.’ Cathy cuddled up closer to him as a germ of an idea came into her mind. When the fair was ready to move on from York in a couple of weeks’ time, she might suggest that she and Lucy travel back to Liverpool by train. She’d prefer to see her own doctor in Aigburth and not only that, she was feeling really homesick too and wanted to see her mam and her family and friends.
A break spent with them all would do her good and that would bring them up to August. If the fair headed for Liverpool in September she could rejoin them for a few weeks before they packed up for the winter months. Gianni would then be with her for a good while. She’d leave it a few days and then tell him how she felt and what she wanted to do. Cathy didn’t really want to leave Gianni with Eloisa on the prowl, but knew she could trust him.
Gianni puffed out his cheeks and nodded his head slowly. The fair was packing up to move on again, this time to Thirsk, and Cathy had just announced that she wanted to go back to Liverpool for a few weeks and why.
‘Right,’ he began. ‘I understand you wanting to be with your family for a while and see your own doctor, but you’re not going on the train by yourself. You’d never manage, lugging a case and Lucy in her pushchair. We don’t want any accidents. Once everything is sorted here and they’re all packed up, I’ll ask Dad to lend me his car and I’ll take you home. Someone can tow our caravan up to Thirsk. I’ll stay overnight with you in Liverpool and then drive back up north. I know you want to keep it quiet for now, but can I tell Maria and Dad why you’re going home? I mean, they’re bound to think it’s a bit odd so soon.’
‘Okay,’ Cathy agreed. ‘But make sure they don’t say anything to Eloisa. I’ll take Lucy for a little walk now out from under everyone’s feet and I’ll call my mam from the phone box and let her know to expect me.’
Three
Cathy stretched her arms above her head and yawned. It was early Sunday morning and Lucy was curled up beside her, still fast asleep. It was lovely to be tucked up in the spare room at her granny’s bungalow. She was missing Gianni but he’d called her before the show most nights and she’d reassured him they were both doing fine. Sliding out of bed, she walked into the bathroom. The smell of toast made her stomach rumble and she heard the rattle of crockery coming from the kitchen.
Granny was already up and no doubt ready for early Sunday morning service at St Michael’s church. She smoothed her nightie down over her already visible baby bump and smiled. She was only three months but was already bigger than she’d been with Lucy. Gianni might get his wish; this could be a boy. She strolled into the kitchen and sat down at the little table.
‘Morning, my love,’ Granny greeted her. She placed the loaded toast rack on the table alongside a dish of butter and a pot of strawberry jam. ‘Do you want a poached egg?’
Cathy shook her head. Her tummy was still a bit iffy in the morning – mind you it was iffy any time of day – but it was getting better as time went on. ‘I’ll just have the toast thanks, Gran. Are you going to church?’
‘I am. If I put the leg of lamb in the oven on a low light will you keep an eye on it for me? I won’t stay for coffee at the church hall, then we won’t be eating too late. I know you want to go and see your mam this afternoon.’
‘You can stay and have your coffee. I know you love a natter with your friends, don’t miss out just because I’m here,’ Cathy said. ‘I’ll get the veg ready and put the potatoes in with the lamb. I don’t need to be at Mam’s any earlier than four anyway. I’ll pop in and see Debs and Davy while I’m over that way too. It’s lovely catching up with everyone. I’m hoping I can get a phone call in with my nursing pals later as well when they come off duty. I’m going to try and meet up with them this week.’
‘Well, don’t be doing too much running around. The doctor told you to rest, then your blood pressure stays down.’
Cathy laughed. ‘I’m fine. I think it was high last week because I’d been so worked up about everything. How am I going to manage two little ones in a caravan and going back to all that noise again?’
At the doctors’ surgery, when she’d had her pregnancy confirmed, her blood pressure had been high, something that had not happened with her first pregnancy. It was a bit of a concern, but Cathy knew from her nursing days that anxiety could shoot a patient’s blood pressure through the roof, so she wasn’t unduly worried.
She’d try not to think of the realities of next year on the road with the fair, and instead concentrate on resting and winding down while she could. In Liverpool, she’d stayed for a week at her mam’s place and was now at Granny Lomax’s for a week. So far it was working out perfectly.
Cathy smiled as Debbie’s son Jonathon invited Lucy to play with his wooden bricks. The pair were busy building a wall with the coloured blocks while Debbie and Cathy caught up on each other’s news. Debbie handed Cathy a mug of coffee and sat down beside her on the sofa in the sitting room.
‘So how long are you going to stay in Liverpool?’ Debbie asked.
Cathy shrugged. ‘Well, at least until the fair arrives at the end of September. To be honest, I don�
�t particularly want to go back, but I’m really missing Gianni and so is Lucy. And I can’t stay with Mam and Granny forever. Not once I have two little ones to look after. It wouldn’t be fair. Mam and Johnny have got enough with the other kids to look after.’
Debbie chewed her lip. ‘You don’t think Gianni will want his house back, do you? We love living here, but if we have to find somewhere else, will you ask him to give us plenty of notice?’
‘Oh, Debs. No, of course he won’t want it back. He loves his fairground lifestyle. Our new caravan is beautiful and I feel that I’m being ungrateful towards Luca and Maria after they went to so much trouble and expense to buy it for us, when I say I’d rather live in a house. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to persuade Gianni to live under a normal roof again. It’s caravan life or nothing, apart from the winter months, when we’ll stay with Mam or Granny. I’ll just have to get used to it.’
Debbie smiled. ‘Sounds fun to me, travelling all over the place. Like a permanent holiday.’
Cathy choked on her tea. ‘If only. It’s noisy and smelly and I get bored to tears with nothing to do. It takes five minutes to clean and tidy the caravan and then I’ve got all day to twiddle my thumbs. And then there’s Eloisa always giving me the evil eye and she fancies Gianni like mad. Doesn’t even hide it.’
‘Cheeky cow!’ Debbie exclaimed. ‘I’d have scratched her eyes out. Do you think she’ll try it on with him again now you’re out of sight?’
‘I doubt it. He ignores her. She caused him enough trouble last time he got involved. She gets on his nerves.’ Cathy sighed and looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I’d better get over to my mam’s,’ she said. ‘She’s doing a salad for tea so I’d better go and help. Sorry my visit was short. I’ll catch up with you in the week when I’m staying at Mam’s for a few days. Maybe we could take these two for a stroll around Seffy Park?’