by Mark West
Billy ran over and leapt up against his Dad, who hefted him into the air. For a moment, the boy was weightless, squealing with delight and then Simon caught him and put him down gently.
“Hey, kidder, how’re you?”
Billy looked at his dad, screwing his face up against the late afternoon sun, his left eye closed. “Fine, how’re you?”
Simon laughed and ruffled Billy’s hair. “All the better for being home, mate. Now, are we going to that fair or what?”
“Yay!” yelled Billy and he disappeared into the house.
Simon leaned over Kim and kissed her quickly on the lips. She smiled at him but it didn’t touch her eyes. “Sorted?”
Simon nodded, then looked at David, a big smile on his face. “Fancy a trip to the fair then?”
“I’m game.”
“That’s a fact. You should have seen us at college, Kim, whatever rides came in with the fair, we’d take them on and beat them.”
“And we were very rarely sick,” David said, still proud of that fact all these years later. And not totally sure that they could keep up that record now.
The Geblot Brothers Fair was in full swing by the time they reached the field at the edge of the village. A low metal fence separated the field from the path and a temporary arch had been set up, the Brothers sign hanging off it, swaying gently back and forth as people bumped the fence. To the left, a small corral had been formed to contain the fair operator’s caravans.
The fair-goers were channelled from the road through an avenue of side-stalls - shooting ranges, dart throwing, tombola’s and hook-a-ducks and several food stands. David breathed in deeply as he passed each one, the smell of onions mixing with the diesel from the generators bringing back childhood memories of trips to the fair with his parents.
The stalls on the left ended, butted up against a long, one-storey building painted white and immaculately kept. A sign above the double doors read “Hoelzli Community Centre”. The stalls on the right ended in line with the building, guiding the fair-goers into the main area of entertainment.
“Wow,” said Billy, still tugging frantically on David’s hand, as if he was worried that dawdling might mean he’d miss something.
Three clowns appeared from behind the community centre, capering with arms outstretched and legs bent, as if imitating gorillas. They all wore baggy dark trousers, black and white striped socks and oversized shoes. Patriotic, one had a set of red braces, another white, the other blue. Their t-shirts were printed to look as if they had shirts and ties and large flowers, obviously fake and probably full of water, bowed from where they were pinned to a breast.
Their sudden appearance startled Billy, who clutched David’s hand tighter. David looked at them, gripped Billy’s hand and pulled him across the alley.
The clowns faces were all pancaked white and each of them had red hair. The eye make-up for all three was different - one had black rings, another black squares, the other red rings - but their mouths were the same. Instead of the traditional over-painted upturned or downturned lips, these all had thick, ragged Chelsea smiles, pasted across their lips and onto their cheeks.
David glanced at Simon and noticed he’d grasped Kim’s hand and was leading her away from the community centre too.
The clown nearest to them, his eyes thick with black make-up that made his sockets almost seem like cavities, noticed their distance and came towards them. Billy yelped, pulled away from David and ran back to Simon, who whisked him up into his arms in an easy movement.
“Welcome to the fair,” said the clown, in a throaty growl that couldn’t quite disguise his West country accent.
“Yeah, thanks,” said David, without looking over.
“I hope you have a good time,” said the clown, falling into step with him. “Lots to see and do”.
“Listen, mate, you’re scaring the boy so why don’t you leave us alone?”
“Me?” said the clown, as if offended, “I scare no-one.” He looked at Billy and waved, making the boy whimper in his dads arms.
David stopped so quickly the clown almost walked into him. “You do, now back off.”
The clown did a little bow and scrape, smiling all the time, his teeth yellow against the red stain of his lips. “It’s the fair, my friend, you’re in our house now.”
“Leave it, David,” said Kim.
The clown looked at Kim, then at Billy in his dad’s arms. He brought his gaze back slowly to David.
“Fuck off,” said David, quietly and firmly.
The clown nodded, turned and jogged back to his colleagues and, without a second glance behind, they began to move down the alleyway.
“Jesus,” said Kim.
“That was interesting,” said Simon.
“I didn’t like the clown man,” said Billy and rubbed his eyes roughly, before squirming to be put down. “Let’s go on some rides.”
More stalls - expensive but pointless games and fast food - created a rough circle for the fair. In the centre of this clearing were some rides - Dodgems, a big wheel, a Waltzer and a couple of small things for kids.
Simon clapped him on the back, then slid a hand over his shoulders. Kim and Billy moved away, rushing towards the big wheel.
“How are you, old mate?”
“Not bad at all, Si, how are you?”
“I feel like I’ve got it made, to be honest. Perfect wife and child, lovely house, great village, work’s good, life’s good and now my oldest and dearest friend is here to help me share it.”
“Great, you deserve this.”
“I do, you’re right and it’s good to see you again, to get back in touch.”
“It’s been a long time,” David said and regretted it.
“That was then, Davey, this is now and life is for living.” He pounded David’s shoulders again. “We’ll catch up properly later, once the bruiser’s in bed. That’ll give us a chance to find out what you’ve been up to.”
“And you, I’m intrigued how you got from London to here, because this town is beautiful.”
“And perfect, don’t forget that.”
They stopped behind Billy and Kim, the boy jumping up and down and pointing at the big wheel. “He wants to go on,” said Kim, with a resigned tone.
“So let’s go on,” said Simon, full of energy, “who do you want to go on with, kidder?”
“You, dad.”
Simon turned and held out his palms. “What can I say? Are you two alright going on?”
Kim looked at her husband, then at her feet. “Sure.”
Following her, David joined the end of the queue and watched the wheel go around without saying anything. The ride finished and people got off, then Simon and Billy were on and the next car rolled around.
“We don’t have to do this,” said Kim quietly.
“Maybe we do.”
They got on, the operator snapped shut the bar and their car was jerked up and around. It wasn’t the smoothest ride he’d ever been on and he was glad to see that Kim’s knuckles were white too. After a couple of revolutions, with Billy waving to them wildly as they went over the top, David decided he couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“Why did he get in touch?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, after eight years, why did Simon get in touch?”
“Because he wanted to see you, to let you see how well he’s come on.”
“And to show me what he still has.”
Kim looked at him as if she was about to say something, then thought better of it and waved at her son instead.
“Is that what it is?” David pressed.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“You shouldn’t have come, David.”
“What do you mean, Simon asked me. It’s not like I invited myself.”
“I know, but you shouldn’t be here, okay?”
“Does he know?”
“Well that’s a stupid question.”
“Says
who?”
“Says me, of course he doesn’t know. It’d kill him if it did.”
“How did he not find out?”
“I was very thorough, after you left each time.”
They rode in silence, looking out over the moorland.
“Do you miss it?” David asked, finally.
Kim looked at him and there was steely glint in her eyes that he didn’t remember from before, when he’d stare into her eyes for hours as they laid tangled in sheets. “Sometimes.”
“Me too. But it’s past now, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Kim said, gripping the bar tightly again. The ride was slowing and they watched Simon and Billy get off, the boys hair catching the early evening sunlight. He looked too small and pale next to Simon.
“It wouldn’t do to separate the boy from his father.”
Kim looked at him sharply. “His dad.”
The carriage was rocked to a stop as oil smeared hands released the bar and Kim was running down the steps into Simon’s arms. Her husband smiled, hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head.
“Enjoy that, mate?” he called.
“Brilliant,” said David, “what’s next?”
“I saw a ride from up there, that I wouldn’t mind going on.” He pointed towards the Waltzer. “There’s a tunnel of love behind there.”
For the briefest of moments, David felt a chill spread across his chest until he realised that Simon meant it for himself.
“Yeah, come on, Kim, David can look after Billy, it’ll be great.”
“No, Simon, come on.”
“You go,” said David, “we’ll be careful, won’t we Billy?”
Billy didn’t answer, so David looked at him. Simon was kneeling beside him, whispering in his ear, Billy smiling shyly and nodding his head. Suddenly, David felt on edge, as if things had shifted somehow. Doubt crept through him, erasing rational thought and he suddenly felt at odds with everything that surrounded him. He glanced around but none of his fellow fairgoers gave him a second glance and he looked at Kim, who was watching her husband and son with a hurt expression.
Simon stood up and Billy came at David like a rocket, grabbing his hand and pulling him around. “Hook a duck,” he yelled happily, “come on.”
Simon smiled, gave David a little wave, then took Kim’s hand and walked away towards the tunnel of love.
David turned, trying to keep hold of Billy’s hand, but the boy was excited and his palm was slippery. David watched, almost as if it was in slow motion, as the boys fingers trailed over his. He made an attempt to reach for them, but it was too late and Billy was off. Not wanting to shout and worry Simon and Kim, David starting running too. The boy was too fast, the ground was too uneven and before David had covered a hundred yards, Billy was diving through the doors of the community centre.
People turned to watch David run by and, even though some of them must have known he wasn’t with Billy, nobody raised the alarm. By the time he reached the community centre doors, they were just settling together. He clattered through them, the hydraulics fasteners hissing and he leaned on the door jamb, getting his breath back.
A short corridor lay in front of him, with three doors visible and a sharp corner ahead. The floor was checkered and looked clean, the walls were white and there was a distinct smell of Dettol in the air. David heard the door settle behind him and realised that was all he could hear - it was as if the fair had stopped, once he wasn’t looking at it. To his immediate left, a crowded noticeboard was too busy for him to see much, except for a big sign proclaiming that the fair was due which commenced with the Festival of Aerning. He’d never heard of it and looked at the opposite wall, which was empty but sparklingly clean.
David started down the corridor of what he now thought of as the tidiest community centre he’d ever been in. He stopped at the first door. A large sign was fixed to it, which read “Private, no unauthorised personnel”. If Billy had read that, he would probably have ignored it and rushed in anyway - might he, even now, be squatting down beside the jamb, giggling into his hand, thoroughly enjoying this spontaneous game of hide and seek?
David pushed the door, which shushed against the tiled floor. The room was as spotless as elsewhere. The floor was covered with sandy coloured tiles and the walls, with cupboards to waist height on each side, were finished with racing green tiles. In the centre of the room was what looked like a large pool table, covered in a heavy plastic drape. A large light was suspended from the ceiling, folded up now it wasn’t in use.
“Billy?” David said quietly, though he knew the boy wasn’t here. The cupboards were all clasped shut with padlocks and there was a large enough gap between the bottom of the drape and the floor that he could see no-one was under there.
David stepped back into the corridor and tried the door over the way. It was unmarked but locked. He checked the last door on the corridor, it too was locked.
One door was left, on the right hand wall after the corner. It was marked “Toilet” but didn’t distinguish the sex.
David paused at the corner, feeling ill at ease again. Part of that was the worry with Billy, though he doubted the boy could have got far, but it was also something else, that if he stepped around the corner into the unknown he’d be exposing himself and he’d worked a long time to make sure he never found himself in that position again. The last time had been bad enough and he didn’t want to repeat it. But there was something about this community centre that fluttered along his nerve endings - it was too quiet, too orderly, too clean.
But he had to find Billy and so he stepped around the corner and saw that the corridor ran along for a hundred yards or so and ended in a set of double doors. He could see no-one. Like before, the floor and walls were bright and shiny, though only the left wall had doors on it.
David stood in front of the toilet door, took a deep breath and pushed it open.
The toilet was white - tiled floor, walls and ceiling - and two large frosted glass windows lent it plenty of light. On the left wall were five sinks, against the wall which was lined with mirrors. To the right, there were five urinals, two kiddy-sized. Behind them were five stalls and he couldn’t see any feet below the doors.
David went to the furthest stall and pushed the door gently open. It swung on silent hinges to reveal an empty toilet. The door swung back and he let it bounce on his fingers, settling it quietly. He stepped to his left, pushed the other door. It too swung silently open, to reveal an empty toilet and he guided it closed. The third door squeaked slightly as it opened, but it too revealed an empty toilet. He stood in front of the fourth door and pushed it. The three clowns were all squatting on the closed toilet and the one with dark circled eyes smiled and waved at him.
The shock hit David like a slap and he took a step backwards, his breath catching in his throat. The clowns seemed to unfold themselves, jumping off the toilet seat and coming through the stall door in single file.
“Hello, friend,” said the one with dark circles, “you weren’t very nice to me before.”
“No,” said David, trying to keep his voice steady as his heart threatened to break through his sternum, “but you were scaring the boy.”
“Ah yes,” said the clown and wiped his mouth. Like a drag queen finishing a show, he smeared the Chelsea smile up his cheek.
“I’m looking for him.”
“Really?” asked the clown and his companions laughed.
“Yes, have you seen him, the boy I was with earlier?”
The clown took a step towards David, flexing the fingers on his right hand. “No, mate, we’ve been in here with the shit and the piss, waiting for you.”
“For me?”
“Oh yes, my friend, everyone has a role to play.”
Without thinking, David turned and bolted for the door. Before the clowns had time to react, he’d pulled it open and was sprinting down the corridor, his trainers slapping against the sparkling floor. He heard the toilet door bang shut and risked a g
lance behind but wished he hadn’t - the three clowns were running after him.
The doors David passed were all closed, all marked ‘private’. Ahead, the double doors didn’t seem to get any closer and for an awful moment he thought he was running in a dream, when he wouldn’t move but his pursuers would.
David pushed harder, his breath burning. He scanned the doors, trying to see if they were padlocked or otherwise kept closed. The last thing he wanted to do was run into them with arms outstretched and break both of his wrists.
It looked as if the door was unlocked. He risked a glance back, saw he’d outpaced the clowns. The door got ever closer. His trainers sounded harsh, the slaps echoing around him, competing with the ragged breathing of his pursuers.
Another stride and the door was upon him.
He hit the bar at full pelt, felt it give under him and then the door was swinging open and bright light was blinding him and he lost his footing as the tiled floor gave way to hard packed lawn.
David tried to angle himself but didn’t manage it in time and landed on his belly, winding himself. Groaning, he rolled onto his back, shielding his eyes from the dipping sun. Someone was standing in front of him, but it wasn’t one of the clowns. The figure was holding something against its side, that looked like a big knife but the scale was all out. And then it clicked.
“Billy?” David wheezed, “is that you?”
The boy didn’t answer and David managed to sit up, clutching his stomach and trying to get his breath back. The boy wasn’t alone. Standing several yards behind him was what looked to be the entire village, forming a rough semi-circle so that he couldn’t see the road beyond them. Simon and Kim were standing a little behind Billy, with an older man.
“What’s going on?”
Billy looked back at his parents and Simon stepped forward, rubbed his hair affectionately and then knelt down beside David.
“Alright, mate?”
“What’s going on, Simon?”
“This?” Simon swung his arm around, gesturing towards the crowd. “This is your welcoming committee, to prepare you.”
“For what?”
The three clowns walked past David without even glancing down at him, walked around Billy and merged into the crowd.