All the Fun of the Fair

by All the Fun of the Fair (retail) (epub)

  With that, Gem spun on her heels and stalked out, leaving the teacher gawping in stupefaction after her.

  Neither woman noticed that their whole conversation was being overheard by someone further back along the corridor, having hidden themselves in the recess of the doorway leading into the caretaker’s room.

  * * *

  Back at the fairground the parents of the children accosted Gem as soon as she arrived back. None of them had had much schooling because of their lifestyle; most, if not all, were not able to read or write and the rest only rudimentarily, having painstakingly taught themselves enough to get them by. They all wanted better for their own children. So yet another teacher in a long line refusing to at least try to teach their offspring something and, not only that, this particular one treating them so despicably, had greatly angered them so much they were ready to form a lynch mob and tackle the teacher themselves. Gem had no doubt this would see them all being arrested for whatever offences the police could pin to them and see them jailed for a good length of time; most of the police’s opinions about fairfolk mirroring that of the teacher. It took great effort to calm them all down with a promise that this situation could not go on and a solution to the children’s education would have to be found. She would speak to Sam Grundy at the earliest opportunity on the matter and let them know the outcome.

  She was dreading the conversation with Sam as from what she could see there was only one answer to this problem as matters stood and she didn’t like the thought of it one little bit.

  She spoke to Solly about it though. She was putting the evening meal together at five that evening before they all went out at six to join the rest of the Grundy community to have all the rides and stalls fully manned for when the public would start to arrive en masse from six onwards. Jimmy and Robbie had arrived with their father and were both in the living area waiting to be called through for their meal. Jimmy was having a doze in an armchair and Robbie was looking through that day’s edition of the Daily Sketch. Solly was sitting at the kitchen table listening to his wife rant on over the problem of the children’s schooling. He too could only think of one solution and, knowing his wife as well as he did, knew it wasn’t at all a palatable one for her, so was dreading her asking for his opinion on the matter.

  After taking time out to visit the school, Gem was a few minutes behind serving up the evening meal. Throwing chips into a pan of hot fat on the stove which spluttered and spat, reflecting her mood, she gave them an agitated stir with a large metal spatula blackened with age whilst blurting, ‘I can fully understand they all want their kids to be able to read, write and add up a simple column of figures if nothing else, but it’s not fair they’re looking at me to volunteer to teach them. And, yes, I know I’m the only one that has the skills to do it so it makes common sense but, call me selfish, Solly, I don’t want to be a teacher. I haven’t got the patience for a start.’

  ‘You can say that again, Mam,’ piped up Jimmy from the living area. ‘Always shouting at us you were when you was putting us through our paces.’ He mimicked: ‘Sit still and concentrate, Jimmy. Robbie, you should be copying those letters on the paper not picking your nose and looking out of the window. Jimmy, stop flicking your brother with the end of that ruler. Now I don’t care how many times I make you both say your times tables, you’ll keep doing it until you get them all right and same goes for the alphabet. I used to dread them lessons.’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ mirrored Robbie. ‘Pure purgatory they were.’

  Solly remained silent. He had never learned to read or write, although like others in his situation could recognise enough words to get by in life and anything more than that he relied on Gem for. As it became apparent that it was hit or miss whether they would succeed through any schooling they got and Gem decided to take on their schooling, she had tried to encourage him to join in. But, out of pure embarrassment, he had declined and this was something he had always regretted as he would now like nothing more than to be doing just what his youngest son was; reading a newspaper. He would now love the opportunity to gain information about what was transpiring in the outside world, or through reading books, instead of having to rely on being informed verbally by anyone willing to impart the information he was after to him.

  Had Gem not been so disconcerted over the matter troubling her she would have belly-laughed at Jimmy’s imitation of her as he had got her down to a T but, instead, she scowled crossly over at both her sons. ‘Do you regret those lessons then when you’re catching up with the news in the paper or, more likely, looking at the entertainment advertisements to see what’s on that you fancy going to after the fair closes for the evening?’

  They both looked sheepish and shook their heads.

  She looked at her husband. ‘Our sons are right, though, those lessons were purgatory and not just for them both, me too. I only persevered because I didn’t want them growing up illiterate. But my days are filled enough already with looking after my family and the fair business work I do, so how on earth could I fit in teaching the kids for however many hours a day, even just a couple? It would be impossible for me.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘Trouble is though, I’ve promised the children’s parents to speak to your father on the matter and find a solution and I know he will tell me that being as I am the only one in the community with an education then it falls to me.’

  Solly nodded solemnly. ‘Yes, that’s just what Dad would say.’

  ‘Oh? And what is it I would say, then?’ said Big Sam as he arrived, expecting his dinner on the table. He immediately sit down to eat and was clearly put out that it wasn’t, so couldn’t help himself but add, ‘Oh, twice in one week food’s late getting to the table. Nell would be turning in her grave. Can’t ever remember a time in all our forty-odd years of marriage when our meals weren’t on the table on the dot. So is anyone going to answer me then? What it is I would have said, then?’

  Solly looked at Gem by way of an apology that he would have to answer his father’s question as he wouldn’t let it go until he had. He steeled himself and explained what had transpired this morning.

  As soon as he finished, Sam began to laugh; a deep, rich belly type. His family all looked at him, bemused as to what he was finding so funny. Finally drying his eyes on the handkerchief he kept in his jacket pocket, he chuckled. ‘When you were giving the boys their lessons we all kept clear, believe me. We could all hear you shouting at them from the other side of the fairground for not paying attention or playing their tricks to get out of those lessons. You’d no patience with them whatsoever. After each one was over, Nell used to swear blind she could see steam coming off the top of your head. We all knew you hated giving those lessons as much as the boys hated having them. The fairfolk that were with us at the time obviously have short memories and the others no idea of what hell both you and the boys went through or they wouldn’t be looking at you now to teach their own kids their… What is it called?… Their three somethings, anyway. I’ll give yer yer due though, gel, through your bullying and persistence my grandsons can read and write as good as if a proper teacher had taught ’em and I can’t fault yer for that.’

  Gem’s mouth dropped open in shock. Had her father-in-law just given her a back-handed compliment? If so, then this was a first and one for the record book.

  Sam was continuing but now the laughter had left his voice and his tone was a grumbling one. ‘Don’t know what all the fuss is about myself. I can’t read or write and I’ve done alright for myself. Whether they can read or write isn’t what is going to make any of those kids successful. A quick brain and the will to succeed but, most importantly, being prepared to work damned hard is what will.’

  Gem clamped shut her lips, forcing herself not to voice out loud to Sam that no one could deny that he had an eye for a lucrative business deal and excellent negotiating skills which had seen the business he’d inherited expand massively but, regardless, he seemed to be conveniently forgetting the fact that it hadn’t all been achi
eved without his ability to read and write. When official forms had needed to be filled in, letters read or composed, he had sought someone with literacy skills to do the honours, which had been Gem herself since she had married his son. She knew that her husband was thinking exactly the same as she was but both harboured too much respect for Sam to speak out.

  Solly said, ‘Not many people are the same as you, Dad, and do need to read and write to get on.’

  It was apparent that Sam was pleased with the compliment as he puffed out his chest importantly and replied, ‘I appreciate they ain’t. But, when all’s said and done, it’s my job to keep the business running so that those that work for me can feed and clothe their families, not to educate their kids.’

  Gem and Solly thought that Sam had a point. So although he hadn’t actually said it, it seemed that, as far as Sam was concerned, if the parents did want their children to better themselves then it was a matter of continuing to send them to the nearest school in each town they performed in with the hope that the teacher was the sort to show a welcome and a willingness to teach fairfolk children.

  But then she saw the frightened faces of all those children today, and of her own promise that they wouldn’t suffer that treatment again. She had meant at that particular school, but their young minds had more than likely interpreted her words to mean at any school. Her conscience got the better of her. She had made those children a promise and her morals dictated that she must honour it. Not that she at all wanted to, but maybe an hour of her time once a day in the week to try and help them learn their alphabet and some simple words, also the times tables, she could manage.

  She spoke up before she could change her mind. ‘I’ll do it. Just for an hour or so a day which doesn’t sound much but it’s more than they’re getting. Ten to eleven and I’ll do the lessons in here. I’ll fit in with my other work. But this is only until a better solution regarding the children’s education is found.’

  Sam looked thoughtfully at her for a moment. It was unclear by the bland look on his face whether he thought her a fool or heroine for making her offer. ‘I’ll spread the word. I’ll make sure the parents send them on the dot tomorrow morning.’

  Gem paled. ‘Oh, I was thinking of starting next Monday, give me time to prepare.’

  Sam looked nonplussed. ‘No time like the present, gel. According to you, the kids have missed enough learning as it is without any more.’ He then looked over at the pan of chips sizzling away on the stove. ‘Them nearly done yet? I’m famished. And what are we having with ’em? Sausages and egg, I hope.’

  Gem shot her father-in-law a dark stare. To him, throwing her into the deep end with little time to prepare, to tackle a job he knew she wasn’t at all happy doing, tickled his sense of humour. She felt like telling Sam she hoped the meal she was about to put in front of him choked him, but then her better nature took over. Sam was right; the children had missed enough learning through those unwilling to teach them already without losing any more. ‘Right, seems like I’m the community teacher from tomorrow morning.’ And she added, meaningfully, ‘For now, that is.’ But then, as Sam had made it clear, he wasn’t seeking another solution as he didn’t feel that the children’s education was his responsibility. So for how long ‘for now’ was, Gem dreaded to think.

  From the living area two voices were heard to mutter in unison, ‘God help the kids.’

  * * *

  At ten-thirty the next morning Gem was on the verge of literally pulling her hair out. Before she had gone to bed the previous night, she had gone around the Grundy community and scrounged enough paper and pencils for the children to use for their first lesson and then painstakingly written out the alphabet on twelve sheets, leaving a wide space underneath each row in order for the children to copy those letters by way of a start to them learning their alphabet. But getting them all to sit quietly and concentrate on what, to her, was a simple task was proving frustrating, to say the least. As soon as she had sat them down and explained what she wanted them to do, one had announced they needed the toilet, so then four others announced they did too. Then one child complained that another kept nudging them with their elbow as they tried to form their letters on the page, so others complained of the same thing and downed tools. The space they were all crammed in was small; six of them were sitting around her kitchen table, the rest squashed together on the sofa and in armchairs in the living area with books on their knees as a surface to write on. So, in order to provide each child with more elbow room, she asked four of the children to sit cross-legged on the floor, so those seated could spread out a bit. For a few minutes this seemed to work and the children did start to concentrate on the task she had set them. But just when Gem was thinking this was going to work and the children might actually learn something, one of the youngest children suddenly burst into tears because she couldn’t form the letter to mirror that of Gem’s and so several of the others joined in out of sympathy. Then, to make matters worse, an older boy called them babies for their crying and so one of the crying children’s brother, out of protection for his sister, punched him on the arm. Out of retaliation, the lad punched him back and a fight then broke out between them, which took Gem several minutes to break up. It then took her a few more minutes to soothe the crying children, move others around so the two boys were sitting apart, and get them back to copying their letters again.

  The hour lesson was halfway through by this time and she’d only just gotten the children to actually settle down enough to attempt some work. She could sense that this harmony between the children would not last for the rest of the lesson, as the end of one child’s pencil had snapped off and that child was clearly on the verge of snatching their neighbour’s pencil to replace the broken one. Quickly, she went over and took the broken pencil from the child in question and offered to sharpen it for them before they caused mayhem.

  With her back turned, she did not see one child glance over at her neighbour’s work and, seeing they were doing better than they were, jealously snatch the paper they were working on off them, screwing it up. The first she knew of the incident was when the victim jumped up, screaming that she was going to tell her mother what the culprit had done. The peace amongst the other children was completely shattered and all hell broke loose as some commiserated with the victim and others banded together on the side the of the culprit; they all started yelling at each other.

  By now, Gem’s patience was non-existent. She slammed down the knife, spun on her heels and shouted crossly out, ‘Stop this nonsense! Sit down and get on with your work.’

  None of them took any notice of her, all carrying on as though she hadn’t spoken. Now Gem had had enough. If this was a prelude for all the lessons to come…

  She went to the door, let herself out, shut it behind her and, closing her ears to the bedlam coming from inside, she sat on the steps and cradled her head in her hands. The children in the van had always treated her with the utmost respect and with politeness whenever she had come across them, so why now were they all being so naughty? The noise the children were making inside the van invaded her troubled thoughts. She needed to return back inside and quiet them down, get them back to working again, but the thought filled her with dread; she’d sooner have faced a dozen rampaging bulls than twelve squabbling children. But she was going to have to and somehow get them to behave and do the work she set them or otherwise she would be breaking her promise to their parents.

  Her despair deepened; she felt as if she was in a deep, dark hole with no way of escape. She lifted her head and looked skywards. Lord, I know I haven’t exactly been a good disciple of yours. Well, in truth, not a good one at all. I can’t remember the last time I went to church as my parents weren’t at all religious and so I’m not either, but if I could just ask you… Well, if you do exist, that is… Just this once, if you could see your way to helping a unreligious person and send me one of your miracles, not your loaves and fishes kind but grant me the gift or whatever it is that
teachers possess to get children to sit and behave themselves while I try and teach them their ABCs. If you do, I promise…

  ‘Are you Mrs Grundy? I was told you were the person I needed to speak to.’

  At the unexpected intrusion into her thoughts, Gem’s head shot down to see standing before her a thin, plain-faced woman. In her late fifties or early sixties was Gem’s estimate, smartly but cheaply dressed in a brown coat, sensible shoes and a brown handbag hung over her arm. Her salt and pepper hair was scraped back from her head and knotted in a tight bun at the base of her neck, accentuating her sharp features. She looked exactly as Gem had pictured the teacher she had expected to find at the school yesterday.

  She eased herself off the van steps. ‘Yes, I’m Mrs Grundy. I’m rather busy at the moment dealing with some of the fair children so if you need to speak to someone about fair business, then Mr Sam Grundy is about somewhere.’

  The woman looked at Gem’s living van, then eyed her knowingly. In a pleasant tone of voice she said, ‘The children seem to be causing you a problem by the sound of it. Excuse me a moment.’

  Before Gem could stop her, she marched past, letting herself inside and closing the door behind her. Whilst Gem stared at the closed door, wondering what on earth the woman was up to, to her absolute shock the commotion from inside stopped. Seconds later, the woman returned to stand before Gem again, saying, ‘At least we can hear ourselves speak now. The children are all busy getting on with their lesson.’