All the Fun of the Fair

by Jamie Sinclair

  Life is truly only known to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity and stumble from defeat to defeat.

  Ryszard Kapuscinski

  Christ, you know it ain’t easy,

  You know how hard it can be.

  Lennon

  13 A Festive pregnancy changes everything

  The clock on the dashboard read 08:29. It was late December, within touching distance of Christmas. Outside was wintry, piercing and dispiriting but inside his Aston Martin DB9, Lee Etchman was warm enough. He was sitting with his forehead resting heavily on his arms which were crossed over the leather trimmed steering wheel, his eyes closed.

  ‘Bollocks.’ Etchman said for the twentieth time since he’d left the house that morning. ‘Fucking bollocking bollocks.’

  At 08.07, a mere twenty-two minutes ago, Lee Etchman had discovered he was going to be a father. Such news is so often a cause for jollification and joviality, a symbol of the love and unity between man and wife, the first addition to the family. Except Lee Etchman’s wife was fast approaching fifty and, more importantly, hadn’t slept with her husband in more than three months.

  At 08.06 Etchman had been fishing a wine glass from the swimming pool where he’d flung it the previous evening after narrowly avoiding being caught with another woman – girl, would be more accurate – in the house. A beep from his mobile phone indicated a text message had been received. That message was from a woman named Chrissie; thirty-three years old with two children from two previous marriages. Etchman had been seeing her sporadically for about six months although since Tania came along he’d cut back on his other affairs because, despite always promising himself otherwise, he’d fallen for the 16-year-old Miss Streatham in a big way.

  To Etchman, his relationship with Chrissie, whom he’d met when he almost ran over one of her children as it trotted into the road in front of him, was essentially meretricious. Chrissie wasn’t unattractive; her hair was an atrocious tawdry dyed blonde that had grown out to reveal black roots several inches long. But she was tall and slim and, although her facial features were quite hard and her manner abrupt, Chrissie was pretty enough. The major boon, though, was that Chrissie had her own place paid for with Housing Benefit which provided Etchman with a bolt-hole when required with a guarantee of some sex when he got there.

  Etchman hadn’t seen Chrissie for a few weeks, not since he’d given her and the kids a lift home from town one afternoon and she’d invited him in. While the children watched a blu ray in the small but recently decorated front room, Chrissie and Etchman had sneaked upstairs to the bedroom for a quickie. Now, this morning, he’d received a text message announcing her pregnancy. Etchman felt trapped and could feel the fabric of his comfortable, easy life coming apart at the seams. What would Tania say if she found out, or even his wife?

  Just then his mobile began to ring, causing him to jerk upright in his electronically adjustable, heated, cream leather seat which this morning provided no comfort. He looked at the LCD screen on the dashboard and saw CHRISSIE flashing repeatedly. He switched off the phone and lowered his head back onto the steering wheel, cursing over and over.

  * * * *

  Tania Streatham, who turned seventeen in less than a week, stalked into the park in a pair of skinny jeans, trainers and a cardigan, topped with a green Parka. Her long blonde hair was scraped back and her face free of make-up. It was raining this morning and Tania was feeling sorry for herself. The events of the previous evening had opened her eyes, not only to how she was perceived by those around her, but how in turn she now viewed them. She no longer wished to be seen in that way, no longer wanted to be that way; how could she hope for respect when she had none for herself? Casual flings with good looking men were all well and good but she’d discovered something different with Kuldeep, something that, despite her youth, Tania appreciated as being worth more than aesthetics and sex.

  She trudged to the café which Etchman operated on concession from the Council, there being no market for ice-cream in the winter, to find the door locked and the whole place in darkness. Cursing herself for getting out of bed she peered through the window, hoping her simpleton boss wouldn’t be long because she was freezing.

  ‘Tania. Cooeee, Tania.’

  She looked round to see Alfie, the Park Keeper, waving at her from his cabin; Tania waved back, unsmiling. This was yet another person she didn’t particularly want to see this morning after unexpectedly encountering him in the cul-de-sac the night before.

  ‘Tania, you can wait in here if you like flower. It’s quite cosy with the heater on and I’m just doing a bit of tea and toast.’

  Tania watched Alfie disappear inside and, realising she could either stand here in the rain feeling foolish or sit inside and drink tea in a warm hut; she walked over to join him.

  ‘There you go, love.’ Alfie gestured to the comfy chair and handed Tania a mug of tea. ‘Slice of toast?’

  Tania smiled despite her sour mood.

  ‘Yeah, thanks. Just the one.’

  She took the toast gratefully and held it in one hand, tearing off small chunks and pushing them into her mouth, mug clasped between her knees.

  ‘So then,’ Alfie began, plonking himself on the stool next to the service window. ‘Are you okay? You look like you’re limping a bit.’

  ‘I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?’ Tania said.

  She had no desire to talk about the events of the previous evening; the drinking, the assault, the visit to Etchman. It all needed to be shoved into a secure box in her memory and the key conveniently mislaid.

  ‘Because you looked pretty upset last night. It was you I saw wasn’t it, running home?’

  Tania sighed, nodded and pushed another piece of toast into her mouth.

  ‘Alfie, do you think I’m a slag?’

  ‘Excuse me love?’ Alfie asked, flustered.

  ‘You know, cheap, easy.’

  ‘I don’t really know you well enough to comment, that is, I’m sure you’re not…cheap.’

  ‘Come on, you’ve seen the way I dress, the way blokes gawp at me in the café.’

  ‘You’re a very attractive young lady Tania, how you choose to display yourself is nobody’s business but your own.’

  ‘People think I’m a slag.’

  ‘No Tania, I’m sure they don’t.’

  ‘They do, they always have ‘cos of the way I am with people.’

  ‘Well,’ Alfie considered, feeling very unsure how to proceed. ‘You shouldn’t worry too much what anyone else thinks…’

  ‘That’s just it Alfie, I never used to, at least not so as anyone noticed. I knew what was said about me but it was all just a laugh, none of it meant anything.’

  ‘So what’s changed?’

  ‘Kuldeep, he’s in here all the time.’ Tania bashed the tips of her fingers against her temple in frustration. ‘And I know what you’re thinking, I’m just a kid, I don’t know what love is, I’ll get over it, blah dee frickin’ blah…’ She waved her hand as if conducting an invisible orchestra.

  ‘Well,’ Alfie mused. ‘There is that to it I suppose, but my grandmother, on me mum’s side this is, the Italian branch, met my granddad, they’re both dead now like, when she was younger than you and they ended up married for over seventy year…’

  ‘Your point being?’

  ‘My mum had a saying that summed it up perfectly.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘What’s for you won’t go by you she used to say to me when I was a kid. It means that if something’s right, meant to be, then not much else matters. This lad, Kuldeep, he as keen on you as you are on him?’

  ‘Dunno, he doesn’t give a lot away. He’s autistic and I used to think he was just weird but then I read up on it and he’s not weird, he’s great and then I chucked him. He did try and break in our house to see me though, ended up in hospital…’

  Alfie laughed. ‘I’m not sure what that says about him, but it does suggest he likes you.’

  Tania smiled.
‘Yeah, yeah I suppose it does.’

  They fell silent while Alfie made more toast.

  ‘Why were you there last night anyway?’ Tania asked. ‘You can’t live there, not on what the council pays.’

  It was Alfie’s turn to be defensive now.

  ‘True enough. Let’s just say I have a friend who lives on that cul-de-sac and leave it at that.’

  Tania smiled again. ‘Fair enough, Alfie, fair enough.’

  They sat in silence after that, munching toast, drinking tea, perfectly comfortable with one another, appreciating the warmth of the small heater against the winter cold outside.

  ‘Early one for the café over there.’ Alfie said, pointing out of the window.

  Tania glanced, disinterested.

  ‘Never seen her before. Must be hard up for something to do if she’s in here this close to Christmas though. She’ll have to come back later since Lee, Mr Etchman, hasn’t bothered to show up yet.’

  ‘I’d best go tell her. Oh, hang on, she’s coming over.’

  Alfie slid open the rimy service window and a biting blast of air flew into the kiosk. ‘Sorry, love. Café’s not open yet, can I help at all?’

  ‘Yeah, you can tell me where I can find that cowardly bastard Etchman.’ The woman demanded.

  ‘Now, now. There’s no need for talk like that, I’ve an impressionable young lady in here.’

  Tania smirked at the reference. She liked Alfie, he was a decent bloke.

  ‘What do you want with Lee?’ Tania asked from her chair. ‘I work for him.’

  ‘What do I want?’ The woman laughed. ‘I want to know why he’s not answering my calls all of a sudden.’

  ‘If it’s to do with an order or something I’ll take a message if you like, get him to call you back.’

  ‘An order? Take a message? Look kid, Lee’s my bloke, when it suits him, and I want to know what he’s planning on doing about the baby.’

  Tania went numb and dropped her half full mug to the floor of the hut where it landed with a dull clonk on the rug, spilling tea in a gradually expanding puddle.

  ‘Your bloke. Your bloke.’

  ‘Well, I say mine; he’s really just someone I see from time to time.’

  ‘And the baby?’

  ‘Pregnant aren’t I, with his kid. Now all of a sudden I can’t get hold of him. Look I’m freezing my arse off out here. If he turns up tell him Chrissie’s looking for him and tell him to turn his mobile on, the bastard.’

  Then she turned and walked away leaving Tania shell-shocked and feeling a million times more gullible and denigrated than she had the previous evening.

  ‘That…that total fucker!’ Tania spluttered.

  Alfie rushed to comfort her, placing an arm around her shuddering shoulders and stroking her hair as his mother had done to him when he’d been upset as a child.

  ‘There there, Tania love. Shush now, come on.’

  ‘How could he? With that trollop. She’s old. And that fucking crappy hair, it’s like get your roots done love. How could he?’ Tania wailed.

  ‘I take it you and Mr Etchman were, you know?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t suppose there’s much point denying it now. Don’t say anything though Alfie, please…’

  ‘Not a word love, not a word. It’s not my business to judge what folk do.’

  ‘Thanks, Alfie. You’re great you know.’

  Tania meant what she said. She did like Alfie, he seemed nice, genuine. But more than that he treated her like a person; spoke to her like an adult. He didn’t want anything from her and he certainly didn’t look at her as if imagining her naked. In short, Alfie was unlike most other men Tania had met, apart from her father who didn’t know her at all. But the thing about Alfie, the quality which marked him apart was that he reminded Tania of her grandfather.

  Tania was still little more than a child but when she had still been a child in her own eyes, before she thought she knew everything about the world and its secrets, Tania’s guide in all matters had been her grandfather. He spoke to her like an equal, on many occasions like a co-conspirator, the usual enemy being Grandma. Between the ages of seven and ten Tania spent more time in her grandfather’s company than any friend her own age.

  Tania found her grandfather’s mannerisms delightful, his words enchanting and his company secure. Tania’s parents made demands – schoolwork, appearance, chores. Her friends had their own conditions – where they went, who could hang around with them and who could not. Her teachers craved results.

  Granddad loved Tania. ‘His little bundle of perfect’ he used to call her when she was a toddler. Not once did he chastise Tania for her choice of friends or a poor grade, or anything else for that matter. In her grandfather’s company Tania was herself, with no masks and that was the greatest gift he could give her.

  A favourite game of Granddad’s was to fart in front of Grandma while Tania was round for tea.

  ‘You’re terrible.’ Grandma would cry. ‘Now what do you say?’

  At which point Granddad would lean across to Tania and whisper, ‘I wish I could do it again.’

  They would howl with laughter as Grandma bustled off into the kitchen shaking her head.

  Ten minutes after Chrissie’s departure Tania had moved past being upset and was now downright enraged. Alfie had cleared up the spilled tea and was wondering what to do next.

  ‘Right,’ said Tania, getting to her feet. ‘I’m off home.’

  ‘What about the café?’

  ‘Fuck it. If that dirty, lying piece of crap thinks I’m working for him another day, letting him put his grubby hands all over me after where he’s been, he’s got another thing coming. When he turns up tell him I’ve quit.’

  ‘What are you going to do though?’

  ‘Well, it’s Christmas, so I’m going to get drunk and enjoy myself I suppose and try not to think about sad old men with a thing for school girls. There’s just one thing I have to do first.’

  Tania strode from the kiosk towards the café. She paused to select a well sized rock from the flower bed and then, without hesitation, she launched it with wrathful vengeance through the café window leaving a large hole in the centre. She turned, waved defiantly to an astonished Alfie, and walked away.

  ‘Oh Tania,’ Alfie muttered, picking up the phone to call for council maintenance.

  14 Two contrasting Christmases

  Sharada stood in her bedroom, staring punctiliously at her body in the full-length mirror. She wondered how she appeared to Brandon, tried to see herself as he might. Realising it was impossible to be objective Sharada decided it could be worse. She was never going to be a quintessential beauty, never going to conform to the ideal, but she was also perspicacious enough to acknowledge that nobody met these standards, that the ideal simply did not exist. Still, it would have been nice to feel as attractive as the other girls at school who all seemed to have superior legs, nicer hair and less voluminous, drooping breasts. Sharada’s main problem though, in her view, was her buck teeth, projecting from her mouth at all angles, the stuff of nightmares, inescapable and unable to be concealed by any make-up or clothing.

  Prior to meeting Brandon Sharada had never devoted much time to her appearance but now had become concerned with everything from the state of her hair, so persistently unruly and determined to do its own thing, to her clothes and how they fitted. Did they make her bum look big? Did her underwear match? Was there a line visible through her trousers?

  Since meeting Brandon, Sharada took greater care over what she wore and how she wore it, applied make-up where previously there’d been none and she liked it – for the most part - because it made her feel more feminine, more attractive and like she fitted in with other girls her age, which was no bad thing.

  Sharada hadn’t seen Brandon for almost a week because he was so busy, which was understandable what with his commitments to CHIMP and his new job delivering take-away for Mr Bhumbra at Modhubon the move. Sharada didn’t want to be one of
those needy, demanding girlfriends she’d read about in magazines, but she was unsure exactly how much time with Brandon she could expect without pressuring him.

  Having gathered her courage Sharada called Brandon to invite him to the house this evening, Christmas Eve, to catch up, perhaps eat together. After some initial disinclination Brandon agreed and said he’d be there sometime after six. Sharada looked at the clock on the bedroom wall, above the mirror in front of which she still stood; it was now half past six and still no sign. Finally, at twenty-past seven, the doorbell rang.

  ‘Hiya,’ Sharada said happily, relieved. ‘Thought you’d got lost.’

  ‘I said after six. Anyway I can’t stop long ‘cos I’m doing a shift for your old man at eight.’

  ‘Oh right. I was gonna make us some tea, I thought we could catch up.’

  ‘Sorry babe, I’ve already eaten. Anyhow, what’s up?’

  ‘Nothing, just haven’t seen you for a week and…’

  ‘Hang on a minute, to be fair I’ve been working for your old man most of the time, between that and the group I haven’t had a minute.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m not pushing or anything, I just, you know, thought you might want to see me too.’

  Sharada felt embarrassed and knew she was failing to conceal it.

  ‘I do, of course I do, but, well, you know how it is. Here, I got you this.’

  Brandon handed Sharada a petite box wrapped in festive paper, attached by a piece of green string was a card. It read: To Sharada, Merry Xmas. Lots of Love, Brandon xxx.

  ‘Lot’s of love, really?’ Sharada asked with a beaming smile.

  Brandon looked uncomfortable and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.

  ‘Well, it’s just what you put on cards isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Sharada laughed. ‘Course it is. Thanks anyway though, what is it?’

  ‘You’ll find out tomorrow when you open it,’ he teased. ‘Now, if there’s nothing else.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I ought to jib or your dad’ll kill me.’