Robbie had absolutely no idea that what he had unwittingly just done was going to ignite a chain of events that would have a catastrophic effect on his family and change their lives for ever.
Having finally unearthed the wooden box that held his prized collection of metal toy vehicles, Robbie put the box aside whilst he returned everything back to how it had been before he disturbed it. As soon as he had finished, armed with the box of toys, he raced back to the fairground to present it to Matty, hoping he hadn’t been too long and his father had carried out his threat on him!
The meal was finally ready and, having had their bellies filled with their womenfolk’s tasty, nourishing food, good tempers were restored amongst the men. They returned to labour away for many more long hours preparing the fair for opening the following afternoon, leaving the women with the monumental task of clearing up.
Chapter Nineteen
Sonny never knew when one of Bossman’s henchmen would appear to either drop off a package or collect one. Most important for Sonny was that the dues he paid for their safekeeping were beginning to build up to a good sum. Plus, as soon as he inherited it, he would be able to add the proceeds of the sale of the fair to fund his new business with; the first of a chain of exclusive nightclubs. He was now becoming more and more excited about the prospect of this wonderful new life he was going to have and he was getting frustrated as to when he would be in a position to make a start on it. It was, though, coming up to winter, his father was seventy-one years of age now and people of his maturity didn’t cope so well with the bitter weather. So hopefully, with a bit of luck, his father would catch something nasty and that would speed up his passing into the hereafter, clearing the way for Sonny’s new life to begin.
The arrangement with Bossman was that these visits were always to be timed mid-evening, when the fair community were busy making money from the hordes, so it would leave him free to either collect or hide the packages without fear of anyone seeing him. Of course there was always someone about in the living area, mostly the senior members of the community too old to work on the rides and stalls any longer who were the ones minding the children while they slept, or workers themselves travelling back and forth to their vans for some reason, so he still had to be vigilant.
Tonight his visitor was a tall man dressed in a long brown mackintosh over a smart suit with a brown fedora hat pulled down over his brow. Sonny was in charge of operating the Mont Blanc ride which was a large, circular contraption that had long jointed arms with cars suspended from the ends of each that splayed out from the central core to rise high in the air as the engine spun it round. He first noticed the man when the ride had stopped, people were clambering out of the cars and new riders getting in. He was leaning against a support pillar on the wooden steps leading up to the ride, his head bent as he lit a cigarette. His cigarette lit, he flashed a glance over at Sonny, sitting in the small operating booth in the middle of the ride. The nod of his head informed Sonny he would be waiting for him in the designated meeting place. That was Sonny’s living van where he would inform him whether he was dropping a package off or had come to collect one already in Sonny’s possession. Telling one of his helpers that he was taking a break for a few minutes, Sonny went off to meet the man.
The man was already inside his van when he arrived. He was brusque and to the point. He had come to collect the package that had been left with Sonny several weeks ago whilst the fair had been playing near Bradford. He was the ruthless, cold type that would shoot first then ask questions later, not the sort to mess with at all. Anxious to be rid of him, Sonny hurried off to collect the package.
Darkness had descended about an hour before on that September night and, as he sneaked his way through the shadows to the huddle of forty or so living vans towards his destination, he had twice to press himself into the side of a van for fear of being seen by members of the community. Thankfully he arrived without detection. If he had been seen there would be questions asked why he was entering a particular van when none of the residents were at home; he never visited when they were. With cat-like swiftness, he ascended the steps at the front of the van and slunk inside. He switched on the torch he had brought with him and shone it around. Four people lived in this van but it was far cleaner and tidier than the van he lived in. His brother, though, didn’t have to see to his own housework as he’d someone to do it for him. As he would have done had she not been brainwashed into believing all fairfolk were filthy vagabonds.
He moved into the bedroom. Positioning the torch on a shelf in Solly’s curtained-off wardrobe so that the light from it shone directly at the bottom of the bed, he yanked off the covers, then the mattress before lifting out the section of board concealing the hidden space underneath. It was the perfect place to hide Bossman’s illicit goods as he knew that rarely did Gem or Solly have cause to look here themselves. Should the goods somehow be discovered by the police, it wouldn’t be him that was arrested for being in possession of stolen goods but his brother.
On top of a pile of clothes was an old jumper his nephew Robbie had worn when he was a youngster. Why Gem should keep clothes her sons had long ago grown out of was beyond his comprehension. Women were mysterious creatures sometimes. He carefully unfolded the jumper. He stared down at it, stupefied. The small oilskin packet that he had secreted inside it a few weeks ago wasn’t there! Had it somehow slipped out? Maybe it had been jolted out during one of the moves? He grabbed the torch and shone the beam around the inside of the storage space, paying particular attention to any little cavity not filled by any stored items where the package might have slipped into. Still he could see no sign of the package. Where on earth was it?
A niggle of worry ignited in the pit of his stomach. Whatever was in that package had to be very valuable to the boss and he daren’t think how that man waiting back in his van for him to return with it would react if he arrived empty-handed. He had to find that package, he just had too. It had to be inside the hidey-hole, it was just that he had missed it. He went to make a start on taking everything out when a sound reached his ears. Was that someone coming in the van? His heart thumped wildly when he heard another noise. Someone was in the kitchen. Thankfully, both room separator curtains were pulled across so he couldn’t be seen but if whoever it was came in here they definitely would. He couldn’t be found in here doing what he was, as what excuse could he give that would be believable? He just prayed the man waiting back at his van would believe him that he had mislaid the package and needed more time to find it. If he didn’t… As quickly and quietly as he could, he replaced everything as it had been before he’d arrived, then climbed over the bed trying to straighten the covers as best he could behind him. He climbed out of the window and dropped down to the ground on the other side. As tall as he was, he could just manage to reach the window to push it shut. As he sneaked around to the front, he took a peek inside the window at the front showing into the kitchen area. He could see Robbie, looking in a wall cupboard for something… a plaster as he’d cut his finger… and silently cursed him for returning at that time to put a stop to what he’d been doing.
* * *
Sam was bone weary. He’d had a long day and all he wanted to do was have a nightcap and go to bed. He didn’t think he even had the energy in him to hold a conversation with his dear friend Velda whilst he drank that nightcap, so tonight he planned to have it on his own in bed, that’s if he could manage to keep his eyes open for long enough to drink it. There had been a time, not that long ago in fact, when he could have worked like a navvy all day and still have it in him to drink, chat and dance into the early hours of the morning and rise bright as a lark at the crack of dawn the next day to tackle another full day of work. Now his age was showing itself and those days of hard labour and long nights of socialising were well beyond him. But he still had plenty of years left in him yet and although he might not have the stamina he once did have, he was determined to live his life to the full as much as his ageing body w
ould allow him to.
He had hoped that would have been with Velda by his side, now he had come to terms with losing his beloved Nell. He had been utterly devastated by her turning down his proposal to take their relationship further. His visions of them sitting side by side in armchairs by the fire on a dark winter’s night chatting about the day’s events before they retired to bed had vanished like a puff of smoke, but when he had gotten over his disappointment and really thought about Velda’s reasons for not going ahead, he did appreciate they were valid. He was now happy that she had decided they should just remain friends. In truth, he did have the best of both worlds. His daughter-in-law saw to all his domestic needs and Velda was there for him whenever he felt the need for the company of a woman.
Today he had driven eighty miles to another travelling fair on the outskirts of Sunderland where he’d made prior arrangements with one of the ride owners who was selling his ride as he was retiring to live in a bungalow on the west coast, leaving both Solly and Sonny caretakers of the business so as not to cause discord between them for the short time he was away. Regardless, he was aware that if any of the community had a problem it would be the approachable Solly they would turn to rather than face short shift from Sonny. Sam couldn’t see the old showman selling the ride having a happy retirement living in one place all the time and he suspected that it was his wife who had pushed him into it. It wouldn’t surprise him if they only lasted a year or two in the bungalow before the lure of life on the open road proved too much to resist and they were back living amongst their own fairfolk community again. Once a traveller always a traveller to him.
As soon as he’d spotted the ride advertised in the World’s Fair weekly newspaper, his interest had been sparked. He was always on the lookout for affordable rides to expand the business with, keep the punters coming in. The ride was called the Dive Bomber. Twin cars were mounted on a vertical rotating arm, spinning on their own axis to give riders the sensation of diving and looping. The ride was over ten years old but had been well maintained and was being sold at a very good price. When he had discussed it with Solly, it had been his opinion that it was well worth going to see. He was right; it had been. On the spot Sam had made the decision to buy it. Of course, Sam had haggled hard with the owner and was very pleased with himself to have agreed a much-reduced price than what it had been advertised at. He wouldn’t take possession of it until the end of the season which was in just over a month’s time and had made arrangements for a date to have it collected. Any repairs or repainting needed could then be done while they were laid up over the winter months and the ride would be in pristine condition ready to join the rest of the rides when the new season began next March.
Despite his fatigue, Sam was in good spirits when he arrived back in Hexham at just after nine that evening.
As he eased his creaking body out of the vehicle and had a good stretch, the level of noise coming from over in the main fair arena told him that a good crowd had come in tonight and his spirits rose even higher. As he made to go into his van it struck him that despite his need to get to bed it would be remiss of him if he didn’t first inform his family he was back safely from his jaunt as he knew they’d be concerned. Solly was the best person to inform as he would then tell Gem who then wouldn’t waste good food on making him supper he wasn’t going to eat. Then he’d let Sonny know too. He doubted very much Sonny would be bothered one way or the other. He tried to remember what ride Solly was in charge of tonight. The dodgems? Waltzers? Sky planes? It was one of those anyway. Those rides were all spaced apart from each other and to visit each until he found the one Solly was working would mean him having to battle his way through the crowds which didn’t appeal to him with his back aching so badly after his drive there and back to Sunderland. He did remember that Sonny was on the Mont Blanc tonight which was sited closer to the living van area than the others, so he changed his mind and decided to inform Sonny of his safe return and ask him to dispatch off one of his gaff lads to find Solly and tell him. Aided by his walking stick, he hobbled off.
Arriving at the Mont Blanc ride he was furious to find that Sonny wasn’t there, only two gaff lads running it. Not only that but having told the lads he was just slipping away for five minutes, according to them, Sonny had now been gone for over twenty. Sonny was very aware of his father’s feelings on leaving gaff lads unsupervised during busy times. What if an accident happened or the ride broke down? Slipping away for five minutes to pay an urgent visit to the toilet or grab a drink was acceptable, but being away for over twenty was another. He’d better have a good reason for his absence or Sam would not be at all impressed. Had he not been his son, he would have instantly dismissed him for such a serious misdemeanour. Therefore he would have to think of a suitable punishment that fitted his crime so he would think twice before he did it again, along with a severe warning that, son or no son, if there was ever a repeat then he’d be demoted to the role of labourer with no responsibilities and a lot less wage. The thought of the humiliation alone should be more than enough to do the trick, knowing his father well enough to know that he would carry out his threat. He secretly hoped that Sonny did have good excuse for sloping off – that he’d suddenly taken ill? Despite his difficult relationship with him, brought about by Sonny himself, Sam did love him very much. He hated the thought of their fragile relationship being eroded any further by losing his trust in Sonny to fulfil his responsibilities in a manner expected and having to watch him like a hawk in future to make sure he did.
He would try the obvious place to find him first. His living van. As usual, Sonny had parked it as far away from the other vans as he could. Sam himself, the same as the rest of the fairground community, had always needed to feel close to those he lived amongst; it afforded a feeling of security. Sonny’s need to isolate himself from the rest of the community he had never understood. As soon as the van came into view, Sam could see a light was on in the living room area and there was a silhouette of a man behind the closed curtains. Sonny was at home then? But what was he doing, just standing there, seeming to be doing nothing that Sam could tell, when he should be at work? He hobbled over to the steps and, as soon as he had let himself in, he immediately blurted, ‘What the hell are you playing at, Sonny? Leaving the gaff lads to it while—’ He stopped short in shock to see he was not addressing his son but a complete stranger. ‘Who the hell are you?’ Then the obvious answer struck him. He did look far too well dressed for a common burglar and he couldn’t see any sign of the bag the man would need to carry away his spoils in, but what else could he be doing here in his son’s van on his own? He raised his stick, and charged as fast as he could over to the man whilst crying out, ‘Caught you red-handed, you thieving bast—’
Sam’s attack on the man was brought to an abrupt end as the man snatched up a heavy overflowing glass ashtray and, with the butts and ash flying out of it like confetti, brought the heavy object with force down in the middle of Sam’s forehead. Sam was dead before he hit the floor.
Moments later an empty-handed Sonny arrived, terrified at what faced him when he informed the man that he couldn’t find the package. He was stunned to see the man brushing cigarette ash and butts off his coat and out of his hair, wondering how he had come to be covered in them. Then he spotted the body of his father lying face down on the floor near the man’s feet. He raced over to him, falling down beside him. ‘Dad! DAD!’ He didn’t need to check for a pulse as it was obvious his father was dead. He jerked his head around to look up at the man. ‘You killed my dad, you fucking bastard! Why? Why would you do that? He was just a harmless old man.’
‘Self-defence. Now, give me the package. You’ve already kept me waiting long enough.’
Sonny was still reeling from the shock of his father’s death but the man’s demands swept all that aside as fear for what the man would do to him once he told him what he was about to flooded through him. Jumping up, he stepped backwards, wanting to put as much distance between him and
the man as the limited space in his van would allow, whilst blurting, ‘I can’t find it. It must have got wedged in something during one of our moves. I need more time for a proper look. Honestly, you’ve got to believe me. But anyway you’ve just killed my dad…’
Before he could say another word the man had lunged over to Sonny and, with an iron fist, grabbed him around the neck and pulled him up until his face was only a couple of inches from his own. In no uncertain terms he then hissed, ‘Shop me to the police and it’ll be two funerals your family will be arranging, not just one. I’ll be back for the package another time but if you don’t hand it over then…’ He paused for a second before he meaningfully added, ‘How you die won’t be as quick and painless as your father did. Understand?’
Solly did. The man thrust him away and made his leave. Solly sank to his knees. He had wished his father dead so he could claim his inheritance, but not like this, not before his proper time. His grief, however, was short-lived. His father was dead; he had been an old man, had had a good life and might have died from natural causes very shortly anyway. He was still a young man, however, and very much alive with a good future ahead of him. That’s what he needed to concentrate on now… making sure he stayed alive so he could enjoy that future. And he wasn’t prepared to die before he had achieved what had been eating away at him to do for the last twenty years.
His thoughts whirled. Finding the package could wait for now. Bossman’s henchman wouldn’t risk returning for it for at least a couple of days so he didn’t run the risk of bumping into the police whilst they were in the fairground investigating the death of the man he’d just killed. The package must still be hidden in the storage space under his brother and sister-in-law’s bed, it was just that during his search he hadn’t discovered its whereabouts. He would the next time he looked. It was how he was going to deal with his father’s death that was his immediate concern.
All the Fun of the Fair Page 31