St James' Fair

by St James Fair (retail) (epub)

  They instinctively drew closer together as they walked into the densest part of the throng for it suddenly seemed that they needed each other’s protection. After the isolation and supreme silence of their day to day lives, the suffocating closeness and din of crowds of people affected them with the same shocking impact as a huge wave of ice cold water. They felt overwhelmed, submerged, terrified by the concourse of humanity and all of them except Mary, who had become more used to other people by this time, staggered slightly with shock as an earsplitting volume of noise engulfed them. Little Leeb was the worst affected. Her face became strained and she put her hands over her ears. Catherine noticed that even her proud and reserved husband assumed a vulnerable expression that made her heart turn over with love for him. Tom was deeply conscious of his position as head of the family and was determined not to show how intimidated he felt. He drew himself up, stood tall and straight and gazed around with eyes that tried to appear indifferent but were really as innocent and wondering as those of his youngest daughter. Catherine saw him widen his shoulders and tenderly took his arm as they stood shoulder to shoulder surveying the throngs of people.

  If they had not been so overwhelmed they would have noticed that all around them clustered families who were equally abashed by the cosmopolitan glories of the Fair – husbands, wives and bairns from farms touns and hill cottages were all trying valiantly to pretend that the excitement was not more than they could cope with, pretending that it did not intimidate them more than it enticed them. The fathers lowered their brows over puzzled eyes in an effort to appear formidable but their slightly dropped jaws showed their uncertainty. Conscious of their familial responsibilities they herded their women and children close and gazed over their heads in search of known faces. When they spied another man they recognised, a profound sense of relief could be heard in the tones of their voices as they called out greetings. All of them were plums ripe for plucking by the shysters, crooks and fakers who hung around the fairground.

  Tom Scott did not have to stand alone for long because he was well-known in the district and was quickly spotted by friends. One after the other came up and clapped his shoulder, so that his confidence grew and in a short time he had recovered most of his poise. This confidence was passed on to his family who also began to feel brave enough to face the delights of the day. Catherine and Mary, with a protesting Leeb in tow, went off to look for Lily and have a good gossip on a grass bank. Tom’s fellow shepherds prevailed on him to go with them to the ale tent and his wife allowed him to accompany them without protest and only a meaningful warning look which he acknowledged with a smile. Adam drifted along behind his father, glad that he was tall enough to see over the heads of most of the other people in the ground. He was looking for a girl with yellow hair.

  It did not take long for Catherine to track down Lily and they settled down for a good gossip. Mary sat with them for a little while but she’d heard all her aunt’s stories already and soon began to feel bored. Besides, she knew she was out of place because her mother and aunt could not really get into meaningful discussions of illnesses, difficult births and possible adulteries until she left.

  After a while a giggling trio of girls came past where she sat and waved to her. One of them was the bold Elsie and Mary jumped up so eagerly to wave back that her mother looked over and said, ‘Do you want to go with those lassies, Mary? All right, go on, have a good time but mind and come back to where we left the cart at four o’clock.’ The four o’clock meeting was a ritual with the family. They always foregathered at that time to eat the carefully prepared meal Catherine brought from home. It was part of their day at the Fair.

  ‘I’ll be there at four, Mam,’ she promised and ran over the grass to join her friends. Under the watching eyes of the older women, they linked arms and strolled away acting very casual.

  Lily nudged her sister-in-law in the ribs as she watched them go and said, ‘Look, Catherine, look over there. D’ye see that big lad following the lassies? That’s Jockie Armstrong, the blacksmith’s laddie. He’s going to be your son-in-law.’

  Catherine stared in surprise and saw that, like a bee after a pot of honey, a lad was strolling behind the girls, pretending none too successfully to be indifferent as Mary flounced along with her friends. It was the done thing for a girl to toss her curls and bend her head towards the heads of her friends like a bunch of flowers in spring. She must not let on that she knew she was being followed.

  There were other lads tailing on as well as Armstrong but they were not as persistent as he was and they needed courage, so one by one they dropped off and disappeared into the open flaps of ale tents when they reached them. Though they acted as if they did not know nor care what was going on behind them, the girls were very conscious of the dropping off of their swains and first one girl and then another would cast a furtive glance over her shoulder to see if she was still being followed. Her disappointment was obvious if she saw that she wasn’t. Though they pretended the boys were beneath their notice, each girl had already picked out the lad she fancied best and when he dived into the beer tent, her face reflected secret chagrin. The next time the boy turned up he’d be given a little more encouragement. That’s what we come to the Fair for after all, isn’t it, the girls asked themselves silently. Mary however did not look back and did not see that the eyes of the women staring after her were full of love and a sort of wistful envy that showed they remembered what it felt like to be as young and optimistic as she was that day.

  Adam Scott was left behind by his family at last and he smiled when he saw his father heading for the ale tent. In a couple of hours, he knew, the silent Tom would be singing ballads and revealing a jokey, happily silly side to his character that stayed hidden for all the other days of the year. By four o’clock – the Scott mealtime – he would be as frolicsome as a circus clown and it would be necessary to go and haul him out of the ale tent.

  Before he struck out on his own in his search for the limping girl, Adam was suddenly smitten by a feeling of pity for Leeb. She was too old to want to play with the other little bairns who clustered round their mothers’ feet, and too young to be given free rein to wander through the fairground crowds alone. On an impulse he turned back to where she sat dolefully beside her mother and held out a hand to her saying, ‘Come on, Leeb. Leave Mam with Aunt Lily for a wee while. I’ll take you to see the stalls.’

  She jumped up beaming and took his hand which she grasped tightly as they walked up and down the broad pathways between the tents and sideshows. There they gazed at all the attractions and watched the other equally starstruck visitors. Adam waited patiently while Leeb lingered before displays of brightly painted bits of pottery; lengths of cloth or garlands of pretty ribbons and he bought her a scrap of lace, then gave her an extra penny so that she could buy something from a stall displaying multi-coloured confectionery that ranged from jaw-breaking black toffee to bright pink and green marchpane.

  While he watched Leeb debate whether toffee would last longer than sugar boilings, he fingered the coins in his pocket and planned what else he would buy. There was nothing he needed really but it was customary to take a remembrance home from every Fair. He decided to see everything there was on offer before he made his decision.

  As he and Leeb walked around he was conscious of groups of girls flirting their way past him. Some cast him enticing glances and a few smiled in invitation. When this happened Leeb giggled and nudged him and he smiled back but did nothing to pursue the girls’ invitations. There was only one girl he was seeking and all the time his eyes were ranging everywhere for her. Surely she’d come to the Fair? Doubt crept in because he’d dreamed so much about her all year that he was now beginning to wonder if she had only been a figment of his imagination. He blinked in an effort to summon up the vision that had seemed much clearer when he thought of her in the isolation of the hills but it did not come.

  Now his memory of her was being overlaid by the other girls that were all around
him – there were girls with dark hair, girls with red hair, tall girls and short girls, bold girls and shy girls. They were everywhere but she was not among them and he thought that if he did come across her soon he’d have forgotten what she looked like. He feared he might not recognise her but then he remembered there was one thing that would give her away and that was the touching way she limped. It had made his heart turn over for her.

  When Leeb had toured the sideshows to her full satisfaction and was beginning to tire in the heat, he took her back to where their mother still sat deep in conversation. The child ran to her, displaying her new treasures and cuddled up beside Catherine with her head in her mother’s lap. Soon she would be fast asleep.

  Catherine smiled up at her son. ‘Thanks, laddie. That was kind of you. Off you go now and have a good time yourself. Keep an eye on your father in that ale tent and mind about four o’clock…’ Her world would stop if the Scotts did not all gather together at the right time for their meal.

  Adam nodded and promised her, ‘I’ll be there, Mam,’ before turning on his heel to hurry off in the direction of the footbridge. That was where he had met the lame girl last year so she must have come over from the town. She’d probably use the bridge again. Patience was part of his nature and he did not care if he had to wait all day. She’d appear on the bridge some time during the day, he was sure of it.

  Chapter 8

  The cheering of the crowd hailing the crying of the Fair came booming over the river like a distant thunderclap as Grace pushed open the creaking iron gate of her home and set out for Havanah Court. She was in a hurry because she thought that Odilie would be impatiently waiting for her there.

  When Joe Cannonball opened the door to her, he had a letter in his hand and a puzzled look on his face. ‘Where’s Miss Odilie?’ asked Grace and Joe frowned. ‘Upstairs, but she says she isn’t.’

  ‘What do you mean? Is she in or isn’t she?’

  ‘She’s in all right but I’ve to send this letter back and to say she was out when it came.’

  ‘Back where to?’

  ‘To Sloebank… She don’t want to go to the Fair with the Duke and his party. You’d better hurry Miss Grace, she’s cooking something up.’

  Odilie was looking extremely cheerful but surprisingly was still running about in her nightgown and wrapper with Scamp at her heels when Grace entered the bedroom. As usual there were dresses of all colours piled on the bed and Grace lifted the edge of a frilled skirt as she said, ‘Is this the one you’re wearing today? It’s such a pretty shade of green. You’ll look wonderful in it.’

  Odilie laughed. ‘I’ve been trying to make up my mind what I should wear all morning but a letter’s just come from the Duke asking me to join his party this afternoon and that finally made up my mind for me.’

  Grace’s face fell. She was relying on Odilie’s company at the Fair and, in spite of her original misgivings about going fairing, she had been looking forward to their outing. She needed her friend’s support.

  Odilie saw her disappointment and laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going with him. I told Joe to say that I’d already left when the letter came. I’ll come back later, hear about it from him then and join the Duke’s party after that. I’m not going to miss visiting the Fair with you and seeing your mystery woman.’

  ‘She told me not to look for her till evening,’ said Grace but Odilie swept that aside. ‘We’ll perhaps see her anyway.’

  Grace laughed and told her friend, ‘All right, but hurry and get dressed or your father’ll hear about the Duke’s letter and stop you.’

  Odilie threw out her arms. ‘I am hurrying! I’m waiting for my dress coming over from the outfitter in the square.’ She giggled as she saw the puzzlement of her friend.

  ‘The outfitter – over in the square?’ asked Grace in puzzlement because Odilie had enough dresses to fit out a dress shop on her own and anyway they were nearly all sent up from London costumières.

  Odilie chuckled. ‘Don’t look so amazed. We’re going in disguise, Gracie. We’re going to be a pair of bondagers. You can forget all those…’ Her outflung hand pointed at the disregarded lovely gowns. ‘I’ve sent a maid out for some working dresses and aprons. Nobody’s going to recognise us dressed like that, are they?’

  Grace’s mouth went round in surprise. ‘Oh Odilie, you can’t! What if you’re caught?’

  ‘Who’s going to catch us? We’ll keep among the thick of the crowds and no one will notice us. It’ll be such fun, like going to a masquerade.’

  At that moment Martha came bustling in and asked her niece, ‘Haven’t you made your mind up yet? The Fair’s going to be over by the time you get there. Your father’s gone off already.’

  ‘Thank heavens for that,’ said Odilie. ‘Come on, Aunt Martha, I need your help. Have you any of those old sunbonnets that Father hates to see you wearing – the big ones stretched over bamboo?’

  Martha looked guilty. ‘Aye, maybe I’ve still got a few left. Your father says they’re not proper wear for ladies but I like them because they keep the sun off my head when I’m in the garden on hot days.’

  ‘Lend one to me, please. And have you another for Grace?’

  ‘What for? You’ve dozen of lovely hats – real hats, not cotton poke bonnets.’

  ‘I want to wear a poke bonnet today.’ Odilie’s voice was coaxing and Martha laughed as if she was being teased.

  ‘Och lassie, only poor women wear cotton pokes. That’s why they’re called “uglis”. The lassies off farms and bondagers wear them because they’re cheap.’

  Odilie swung around gleefully. ‘That’s exactly why I want one. Please, Aunt Martha. Grace and I are going to the fairground for a couple of hours disguised as farmgirls. Those big hats will shade our faces and we won’t be recognised. Please lend them to us.’ She folded her hands in a beseeching way like a child and Martha gasped when she realised that this was serious.

  ‘Oh Odilie, I cannae do that. What’ll your father say? What if somebody that kens you sees you got up like a bondager? What if…’

  ‘What if my betrothed the Duke hears about it, you mean? Maybe he’ll decide he doesn’t want to marry me after all. Wouldn’t that be fortunate for me! Now be kind to us, Aunt Martha. Go and get the bonnets. I’ve sent one of the maids out to buy me a working dress – maybe you can find an apron for Grace and a couple of your old neckerchiefs. I know you never throw anything out and it’ll be best if they’re old and faded because we don’t want to look fancy. We’ll go to the Fair and be ordinary. No one will know who I am. I don’t want them pointing me out and talking about my dowry and who I’m going to marry. I want to know what it feels like to be an ordinary girl out for the day with her friend. It might be my last chance to do something like this.’

  Grace was still looking doubtful but only on Odilie’s behalf because the idea of slipping through the crowds unnoticed appealed to her own self-effacing nature. ‘Your father’ll be so angry if he hears about this and my father will blame me for going along with you,’ she protested.

  Odilie’s mind was made up. ‘If you won’t come with me, I’ll go alone but it could be such fun if we were together and it’ll only be for a little while. It’s just a jape. I promise I’ll not keep it up for long. Please dress up like a farmgirl and come with me.’

  Her voice was wheedling but just when Grace was on the point of yielding, another thought struck her and she sobered instantly. ‘What if I’m recognised? Most folk know me, far more than know you,’ she said flatly.

  ‘If you dressed plainly…’ protested Odilie. Once she got a plan into her mind, she was almost impossible to deflect.

  Grace shook her head again. ‘But Odilie, think about it. I’m always dressed plainly. I wouldn’t look any different. And I would be recognised because of my bad leg. I limp, remember, and I can’t hide that.’

  Odilie’s face showed remorse at having overlooked this but she had become so used to Grace that she scarcely noticed her fri
end’s disability and privately thought that Grace was too conscious of what was only a minor flaw. She could walk almost as well as everyone else, when she was not thinking about how awkward she must appear to others.

  ‘But you’d only be noticed if you were walking to the Fair, wouldn’t you? In the ground itself there’s such a big crowd that there’s hardly room to move. No one will see how you walk. I’ve Papa’s telescope here. Look through it – there’s hundreds of people in the field already, aren’t there? There’s hardly enough space for people to move, far less limp.’

  Grace’s eyesight was good and she needed no telescope. She gazed out of the window and saw that what her friend said was true. The field was already black with people, swarming about among the brightly coloured tents like busy ants. Two plainly dressed girls would certainly escape attention in that throng.

  ‘All right. I’d be safe enough on the field but how do I get there without somebody recognising me? They all know me and when they see me, they’ll recognise you as well,’ she protested more weakly.

  Odilie had the answer to that. ‘I know, we’ll take a horse from Stevens and ride over. We’ll cross the toll bridge and come back down the Yetholm Road as if we’ve arrived from that direction. No one’ll notice your limp if you’re riding. I’ll get one of the old ponies from our stable and you can sit on the pillion behind me. Say you’ll do it, Grace. It’ll be such an adventure. It’s a chance to be like other people for a little while. We’ll be away from our families and all our responsibilities. Come on, keep me company. No one’ll find out. We’ll be back here and ready to go out all dressed up in our finery before they even know we’ve been away. Martha won’t tell, will you Martha?’