All the Fun of the Fair

by Lynda Paige

  Ren took a sip from her bottle of pale ale. ‘Could have been worse had your mam not put a stop to their antics,’ she said, nodding at Jimmy and Robbie. Then she added, ‘Just a couple of bruises, that’s all, thanks for asking, Rosa, and all in a day’s work.’ She smiled. ‘Apart from what those lads did, it’s been a good day for me. A never-ending queue for my candy floss stall from almost when we opened to when we shut and I sold a lot of sweets too. And all my customers were nice ones. Hope the rest of the week is as good then I might be able to afford myself some material to make myself a new dress and the shoes to go with it. I might be able to have it ready for when we go dancing in Leeds when we take the fair up there next month and won’t the lads all be after me then?’ It then struck her that Donny was late dropping by tonight and she wondered what was keeping him. At the same time as thinking this, she turned her head and looked over in the direction he would come from after leaving the main fairground to enter the living van area. Then she spotted him as he appeared in the light of a living van he was passing and her heart soared, only then to crash back down when it appeared he was heading straight for his own van and not over to them all. She called out to him, ‘Not joining us tonight, Donny?’

  Since his wife had devastated him by telling him the true feelings of the woman he believed was his lifelong friend, unable to face her, he had done his best to avoid her. That had been easy enough during the day considering the size of the fair, the amount of people milling inside it and where his parents’ ride was located on the other side of the site from Ren’s candy floss and sweet stall. But to get to his living van, though, he had no choice but to pass by Ren’s and, knowing she and all the rest of their fairfolk friends would be gathered together outside on a fine night and would be expecting him to join them as he always did, he’d been praying he could keep to the shadows and slip past without any of them seeing. He was still having troubling accepting that the Ren he knew, the kind, caring, loyal and funny person she portrayed to him was, in truth, spiteful and callous. Donny was not the sort of person that could feel one way and act another; he wasn’t two-faced as his mother would deem such types so, to excuse himself, he just called back, ‘Got to get home. Suzie’s waiting for me.’

  As he hurried off Ren frowned, bewildered. His manner had been abrupt, bordering on the rude, in such contrast to his usual easy-going nature. Something must have greatly upset Donny for him to be in such a foul mood. And now she came to think of it, Donny never failed to call by her confectionary stall at least once during the day and she hadn’t seen him once. Neither could she remember an evening since she had lost both her parents and had been living on her own, no matter the weather or how urgently he needed to get back to his own van, when Donny hadn’t called by to check on her welfare, offer to tackle any heavy chores for her, her diminutive size prohibiting her from doing herself. And, weather permitting, to have a quick catch-up with the rest of their friends over a bottle of beer or pop. Something wasn’t right, she could sense it. It couldn’t be between herself and Donny as never had they fallen out and, besides, nothing had happened between them to fall out over. She had seen Suzie from a distance that day, and at a distance was near enough for Ren considering how the woman treated her. She had spoken in passing to both his mother and father, his brothers too, and they hadn’t seemed to have anything troubling them that she had detected. Since Ren could remember, should either herself or Donny have a problem they had always turned to each other to mull it over with and help resolve it. Even his marriage to Suzie hadn’t changed that, so why had he changed tonight? It then struck her that maybe it was because she was surrounded by friends and whatever was troubling him he didn’t want to discuss in earshot of others so would seek her out tomorrow.

  She joked to the others, ‘Seems Donny’s on a promise tonight and desperate to get home, so he won’t be joining us.’ She then looked around them all enquiringly. ‘So, are we all going out then on Friday night after work and, if so, where to?’

  The group usually went out together once a week on a Friday to the local dance hall. On occasion, some of the locals knew they were fairfolk and didn’t hold back in making it clear their types weren’t welcome, issuing threats of bodily harm if they didn’t leave promptly. But, on the whole, the majority of the locals, especially the young women eyeing up the influx of handsome young men from the fairground, stood up to the bigoted few and made it clear that for them the fairfolk were welcome. The bullies were usually seen off and a good time was had by all.

  Robbie shook his head. ‘I can’t afford to go out this week as my wages are going towards a new pair of shoes. I want a pair of winkle-pickers and they ain't cheap either.’

  Jimmy said, ‘I’ve got a date after work on Friday with a girl I met last night when I was working on the carousel so I won’t be joining you all this week.’

  His brother accosted him. ‘You never told me?’

  Jimmy cheekily smiled. ‘Didn’t want to rub the fact in that I’ve got a date when you haven’t and remind you that I’m the best-looking out of both of us. Ouch!’ He cried out from the hefty punch on the arm he received from his brother at his self-aggrandising.

  ‘Me and Nita are grounded for the next week cos we got back home late last Friday night. I wouldn’t mind but it was only by ten minutes and I pleaded with Mam that it was only because one of the gaff lads that came with us was sick as he’d had too much to drink and we all stayed until he’d finished filling the gutter. Us all were following fairground rules that we all stay together when any of us go out but, even so, once Mam’s made her mind up there no changing it,’ she grumbled.

  As several others also pleaded poverty, it seemed that their night out on Friday was not going to happen so Ren suggested, ‘Well surely we could all afford a few bottles of beer between us so we could have a party. You could bring your guitar, Mal, for music for us to dance to,’ she said to a tall, well-built twenty-year-old who was one of several riders on the Wall of Death.

  Just then Jimmy noticed a huge, handsome black man, his arms and legs resembling tree trunks, walking past on his way to the van he shared with a couple of other boxing booth fighters, carrying a small brown paper bag in his meaty fist. ‘’eh, up, Willy, fancy a beer?’

  William White, whose stage name was Basher Bill, had never yet been beaten in the ring since he’d joined Grundy’s two seasons ago. William loved working for Grundy’s; he appreciated the boxing booth manager treating him as a human being, not just a commodity to abuse and line his pockets with whilst paying him a pittance.

  He smiled, showing a row of big white teeth and in a thick Jamaican accent responded, ‘Not tonight, man, tanks. Got a date with dis.’ He held up the brown paper bag they all knew held marijuana. ‘I’ll come to yer party though. I’ll bring me bongos.’

  ‘And spread the word!’ Ren shouted over to him. ‘If we’re having a party we might as well make it a good one, so the more the merrier.’

  A while then was spent discussing arrangements for the party and then, gradually, everyone made their way back to their own vans, leaving Ren alone with her thoughts. It wasn’t the excitement of the forthcoming party that was occupying them though, but what could possibly be troubling Donny for him to have acted so out of character with her?

  But when he neither called by her stall the following day or at her van on his way home that night, it was then two days since she’d spoken to him. Never before had that lapse of time passed without them speaking, even only for a moment or two, so it was a very worried Ren that delayed setting up her stall the next morning to seek Donny out.

  His parents’ ride, which Donny helped them operate, had been safety tested and was all set up ready for opening. So she found him lending a hand to one of Sam Grundy’s labourers repairing one of the cars shaped like a boat with the head of a swan. It glided through the winding track in the Tunnel of Love, which was ironic given how she felt about him. The head of the swan had come loose thanks to a succession
of punters pushing against it with their feet and, spanner in hand, Donny was in the process of tightening the bolts that secured it.

  He had his back to her when she said to him, ‘Hello, Donny. I haven’t seen you for a day or two so came to see how you are?’

  She was absolutely stunned to note that at the sound of her voice he physically jumped and it was several long seconds before he slowly turned around to face her. Her shock turned to abject confusion to notice that when he responded to her he refused to look her in the eye, like the very sight of her was repellent to him. His tone was gruff. ‘You can see I’m fine. Excuse me, I must get on.’ He turned his back on her and continued with his task.

  Now she was positive that something serious was bothering him but just what it could be that could make him act towards her as he was, she couldn’t fathom. ‘Donny, what is the matter with you? I know something is. Whenever you’ve had a problem before you’ve always turned to me to help you with it, so why aren’t you now? I don’t understand?’

  The same thing happened again. He slowly turned around and, when he did, his eyes – that usually held the spark of deep affection for her – were filled with hurt. She was astonished even more by what he said to her. ‘I know, Ren. Now please leave me alone.’

  He made to turn his back on her again but she dashed over and grabbed his arm. She blurted out, bewildered, ‘Know what, Donny?’

  He shook free his arm like her hand was burning him and went to tell her of his discovery that their friendship, something so very dear to him, was just a sham on her part, but his kind nature prevented him causing hurt to Ren, despite the distress she had caused him when he learned the truth about how she really felt about him. With a deep sense of sadness filling him for the loss of a friendship which, in truth, he knew now thanks to his wife, he never had in the first place he told Ren in a dismissive tone, ‘My wife is my friend and she’s the only one I need. Please don’t bother me any more.’

  He abruptly turned away and continued on with his task.

  Ren stared at him, utterly stupefied. Had Donny really just ended their friendship? After all they had been to each other since babies? And to do so with no reason that Ren could fathom? This didn’t make sense to her. And what did he mean by, I know? Know what? At least if he afforded her the reason for his decision it would help her understand and come to terms with it, but he had made it clear to her that he wasn’t prepared to so she had no choice but to accept it and do as he asked; not to bother him any more. She had thought she couldn’t possibly suffer any worse pain than that she had when watching the love of her life marry another woman but this she was experiencing now, losing her best friend completely, was immeasurable. She would miss him dreadfully. With a heavy heart she turned and dragged herself to her stall.

  * * *

  The party on Friday night was a great success; all the attendees thoroughly enjoyed themselves. There were a few bloodshot eyes and hangover sufferers amongst the younger members of the Grundy community that arrived to start work the next morning. All except for Ren though. For her the party was an emotional trial that she would sooner have not participated in. What she wanted to do, instead, was curl up on her bench sofa on her own in her van to nurse her heartache and try to come to terms with her devastating loss, but as the organiser and as it was her van the party was being held outside, she had no choice but to put on a brave face and appear to be enjoying herself as much as the rest.

  Chapter Eight

  The rest of the week passed without major incident and, from the minute the last punters left the fair on Saturday night until it was all set up and ready to open at their next venue the following Monday afternoon, which was the small market town of Barnsley, none of the Grundy community got much sleep. In a frenzy of activity, whilst the men set to dismantling the rides and stalls, loading them on the various lorries and then transporting it all to the next destination for it to be resurrected again, the women packed up their living vans. Once deposited at their next venue, they unpacked all their belongings again and made it all homely, all the while making sure their families were well fed and looked after in all respects. It was unusual for any move to proceed smoothly without any hitches but, much to everyone’s relief, this one did. This was to be a two-week stay as Barnsley was a larger town with many nearby surrounding villages.

  The site on the outskirts of Barnsley was at the end of a road called Summer Lane, on a large area of common grassland surrounded by trees and hedgerows, a small stream running down the boundary. The children were delighted with the paddling and swimming opportunities. Although the surroundings on this site were far pleasanter for the fairfolk than the hard, stony ground of the cleared slum site at their last venue in a poor area, the downside was that there was no source of electricity so generators had to be fully relied upon to power all the fair’s electrical needs. There was also no running water supply so the womenfolk had the extra task of boiling up their water needs collected from the stream. But then the area came under the control of a local parish council and the fee they charged was nominal compared to what the larger councils did for their sites in the the middle of a town. As soon as they arrived and had set up, it was Sam’s first job then to go along to the parish council’s office and settle up.

  On moving days the task fell to Gem to provide a hot meal for all the Grundy labourers and gaff lads Sam employed as well as her own family so, as soon as Solly had sited their van and fired up the generator, out came her pots and pans and with the aid of a couple of the other women she cooked up an enormous cauldron-sized pot of nourishing meat and vegetable stew, along with chunks of thick crusty bread. They would all sit together and eat at long trestle tables off their plates and cutlery each had brought with them.

  Despite having no idea why Sonny acted so distant with his family, it had been long ago accepted that he preferred to cater for himself and eat alone. It was apparent that he harboured nothing more than contempt for Gem, going by the off-hand manner he always displayed towards her whenever they had dealings together. Out of respect that he was Solly’s brother, on moving days, Gem would always send one of his nephews over to his van with a tray of food and did likewise on Christmas Day and any other occasion the family had a special meal together such as Easter Sunday and birthdays. Whether he ate the food, let alone enjoyed it, she had no idea as he neither complimented her on it in any way nor thanked her for her thoughtfulness.

  Shopping was never a chore that fair women looked forward to because they never knew how they were going to be received in any shops they ventured into once the proprietors and other shoppers realised just who they were. It all depended on their individual perception of fairfolk. Verbal abuse was commonplace and, occasionally, fair women had been physically attacked. Consequently, groups of friendly fair women usually shopped together. Gem’s shopping circle included her sister-in-law, Fran, fortune-teller Velda May, a couple of younger show women who had joined Grundy’s on their marriage, along with a couple of elderly widowed Grundy matriarchs whose sons or daughters had inherited their stall or ride from their deceased fathers. They shopped and cooked for their families by way of paying their keep while they were still mobile enough to.

  That first Monday morning of their stay on the outskirts of Barnsley it transpired that only Velda and herself would shop together as the other members of their group had either opted to go with others on this occasion or were going another time as they were otherwise busy.

  It was about a half mile down a winding country lane from the field the fair was sited on to a row of shops that included a butcher, bakery, general grocery, bookmaker and cobbler’s, with just the odd cottage and row of workers’ two-up two-down terraces in between. Velda did offer to drive them in her old Land Rover, to save them lugging the shopping back, but they decided to walk as the spring morning was such a lovely one. The sun was shining down from an almost cloudless sky and, having not seen anything green except for weeds the previous week having been com
pletely hemmed in by grimy brick buildings and breathing in the thick smoke-filled air from the belching chimneys of the surrounding houses and factories, they both wanted to savour all the delights the countryside afforded.

  Gem was dressed in a pair of black capri pants, pretty pink blouse and blue belted woollen jacket, blue pumps on her feet, and Velda was in her usual voluminous robe-type dress which, today, was a black one edged in red braid around the cuffs, neckline and hem. Her long hair was parted down the middle and coiled in plaits around her ears. As she wasn’t plying her trade on this occasion the scarf around her head was a plain black one, and she wore a thick tassel-fringed red shawl around her shoulders, sturdy well-worn shoes on her large feet. Both were carrying several bags to hold their shopping in.

  It being just the two of them together in such pleasant surroundings, Gem thought this a unmissable opportunity to probe the older woman on her feelings for her father-in-law, who she was instinctively aware had romantic feelings for the older woman. But veering Velda towards her instigating this conversation was proving very difficult though for Gem as Velda herself was consumed with her own worries for Ren.

  ‘Since the lass’s parents both died, you know, Gem dear, how I took her under my wing and become a second mother to her. I felt very honoured that she allowed me to do that. Just a pity her parents aren’t still around to see what a wonderful job they did with their daughter.’ She paused for a moment to reach over to a hawthorn tree in the thick hedge by the side of her and picked a bud from it, along with a couple of newly sprouting leaves, which she put in her mouth and chewed on. ‘Just delicious. Have a taste of nuts. Chopped up and sprinkled on potatoes adds lovely flavour to them. I shall pick a handful on my way back to put on boiled potatoes to go with the pig’s trotter I plan to have for my dinner. Now, what was I saying? Oh, yes. I was telling you my worries over Ren. So getting to know her as she’s allowed me to, I know that these last few days she most certainly hasn’t been herself. Oh, she appears to be on the surface but… well… there’s a sadness in her eyes I haven’t seen since she lost her parents. Oh drat, it’s so hard to describe… it’s like the heart has gone out of her.’