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  Solly’s thoughts were tumbling and he didn’t like the way they were heading ‘Err… I was busy when he arrived… a young man he was, early twenties, looked official enough. I sent him to see my wife. Look, come inside, and she’ll tell you more.’

  Mr Barroclough followed Solly into the caravan, where Gem, having finished clearing away after dinner, was readying herself to go to work in the pay booth for the hall of mirrors.

  Solly introduced their visitor to her and explained why he was here.

  Gem smiled a welcome, but then frowned as what Solly had told her registered. ‘But the money has already been collected by the young man who called earlier from the council.’

  Mr Barroclough’s face had taken on a grave look. ‘As I told your husband, Mrs Grundy, we haven’t sent anyone along to collect it.’

  ‘Then, who…?’ The truth hit and she exclaimed, mortified, ‘Do you mean we’ve been had? Oh, how stupid of me to let someone fool me like that. I thought it was odd that someone had been sent to collect the fee when we’ve always had to visit the town hall before to pay it. But he seemed such a nice young man and I had no reason not to believe he wasn’t who he said he was.’

  ‘Did he give you his name?’ Mr Barroclough asked.

  Her frown deepened. ‘Yes, he did. Err… Smith. John Smith.’ She groaned, annoyed with herself. ‘Smith, Brown, Jones, those are the names people usually use when they don’t want to give their own. Why didn’t even that twig something in my brain?’ She looked at her husband. ‘Oh Solly, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that young man took me for such a fool.’

  Solly placed a hand on her arm. ‘There are people genuinely called Smith, Brown and Jones, love.’ He was thinking of his brother and how he had been duped by him when he said, ‘You won’t be the first or the last to be taken in by a con man.’

  This didn’t seem to mollify her in any way. Then a memory struck and she crossly exclaimed, ‘Even more stupid of me, I asked for a receipt for our books and let him fob me off with the excuse that he’d left his receipt book back in the office and would get it sent to us.’

  ‘Stop blaming yourself, Gem,’ Solly said. ‘If I hadn’t been busy, I would have taken this lad at face value and handed over the money myself.’ He thought for a moment and then turned to Mr Barroclough. ‘It was obviously someone who knew we were due to pay our fee for the rental of the land today. So, it must have been someone from your office that called on us.’

  Mr Barroclough looked thoughtful. ‘You said the man who called on you was young, in his twenties, Mrs Grundy. Four of my accounts clerks fit that description, but I can assure you that none of them have left the office this morning.’

  Solly suddenly realised something and raked an angry hand through his hair as he said, ‘I suppose this means that we still have to pay the council, don’t we?’

  Mr Barroclough nodded solemnly. ‘I’m afraid so.’

  Solly went over to the small safe that was hidden behind one of the easy chairs by the stove, opened it up and counted out the required amount of money, which he then handed over to Mr Barroclough, who placed it safely in his briefcase and wrote out a receipt.

  As he departed, he said, ‘I do hope you manage to find out who impersonated one of my employees and get your money back.’

  Both Solly and Gem thought there was little chance of that. They wouldn’t have a clue as to where to look for him, and only an idiot would return to the scene of his crime.

  Solly did his best to console his wife, but she was far too cross with herself for not having seen through the man to forgive herself for the loss of such a large amount of money. She vehemently prayed that their stay here would be heavily attended by the local population, and that they were all in a spending mood to help recoup at least some of their loss.

  Chapter Eleven

  A short while earlier, Jenny had been standing outside Velda’s living van, hesitating before she knocked on the door. She really wasn’t happy about calling on the older woman during her dinner, but having agonised over her problem now for several days, she really felt she needed advice over how to handle it.

  If Velda was put out that her meal was being disturbed, she didn’t show it. When she opened the door of her small traditional-style van, she beamed in delight on seeing who her caller was.

  ‘Jenny, what a nice surprise.’ Her kindly eyes then grew troubled and she clasped her large hands together over the mound of her stomach as she said gravely, ‘Mmm, I can tell by your face you’re bothered about something. Come on in, dear, come on in.’

  ‘I’m not interrupting your dinner, am I?’ Jenny asked in concern.

  ‘Wouldn’t matter if you were. You’re welcome in my home at any time. Actually, I wasn’t enjoying my meal anyway. I cooked liver and onions, but God knows what I did wrong. The liver was as tough as old boots and the gravy was lumpy, so I was just about to scrape it all in the bin and make myself a slice of bread and dripping when you knocked on the door.’ She wasn’t being truthful – she had actually been enjoying her food – but the last thing she wanted was for Jenny to feel guilty when it was obvious that she was worried enough about something as it was. She would cover the remains of her meal and reheat it later for her tea.

  Jenny normally would have found it extremely amusing that Velda had a large tea towel covering the front of her voluminous dress, which she had obviously draped there to catch any dribbles of gravy, but at the moment her thoughts were clouded by far more important matters.

  A few moments later, she was sitting in a comfortable armchair opposite the fortune-teller by her small cast-iron stove. Both of them were nursing mugs of hot tea.

  Velda didn’t need her psychic powers to tell her that the young woman was struggling with her conscience over whether to divulge what was obviously deeply bothering her. She said softly, ‘What you say to me won’t go any further, lovey. What anyone says to me is in complete confidence. We clairvoyants have a code of conduct. We aren’t like hairdressers, you know; you tell your innermost secrets to them while they’re crimping your hair and the next minute those secrets are all around the town. I’d not even tell your mother, who’s my closest friend. It must be something you don’t want your mam to know, or it’d be her you were sitting with now.’ She took a deep breath before she ventured, ‘You’ve not gone and got yourself in trouble, have you, love? ’Cos if you have, let me tell you, your mother is the last person who wouldn’t be understanding after what happened with her over falling for you.’

  Jenny urgently insisted, ‘No, no, I’m not having a baby, Velda.’ She gave an ironic chuckle. ‘Gracious, it would be a miracle if I was, as I haven’t had a boyfriend for over a year now, and anyway, I’m not that kind of girl. I plan to marry because I’m in love, not because I have to. No, I’ve come to ask your advice about a friend.’ She lowered her head and began to twist the silver ring on the middle finger of her right hand that she had treated herself to from her first wage packet on leaving school. ‘This friend has no idea I know what I do. I think she’d be mortified if she did.’

  She paused, gnawing her bottom lip anxiously for several moments before she took a deep breath and went on, careful not to mention any names, ‘I thought she was happily married, but after what I saw…’ She paused again, her face screwed up in distress as the horror of what she had seen replayed in her mind. ‘From what I heard him say, she had annoyed him by offering to do something he didn’t like, and he was so nasty when he was telling her off for it, but if that wasn’t enough, he… he then thumped her on the side of her head. I don’t know how much he hurt her as I couldn’t stay and watch any longer, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t knocked her out with the force he used.’ Tears pricked her eyes and her voice was choked when she added, ‘It’s not right, is it, a man using his fists against a defenceless woman?’ Before Velda could express her own views on the matter, Jenny continued, ‘But it’s not just that. I think – no, I know, because I saw it – that her husba
nd is cheating on her as well.

  ‘It was at the party last Saturday night. I was just thinking of leaving when I saw my friend’s husband acting… well, suspiciously. I just knew he was up to no good, and then I realised he was making sure that his wife wasn’t watching him so he could slip off, so I followed him… I just couldn’t help myself. He made his way to one of the empty vans, where he met… a woman and they disappeared inside together. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what for, does it?’

  Solemnly Velda shook her head. ‘No, I don’t suppose it does.’ She looked at Jenny for a moment before she said, ‘And your problem is whether you tell your friend what you saw?’

  Jenny eyed the older woman imploringly. ‘Well, do I, Velda? I mean, he’s hurting her. From what I heard him say, it was definitely not the first time. She can’t be happy living with a man she’s frightened of, never knowing when he’s going to beat her for something she says or does just because he feels like it. Maybe she stays with him because she’s too scared to leave him, but if she knew he was cheating on her as well as abusing her, it might give her the motivation to get herself away from him.’

  It hadn’t taken Velda long to deduce who this friend was that Jenny was in turmoil over. Two couples were top of her mental list. Ren was number one. The girls were very good friends, but Ren wasn’t actually married to Donny yet. Besides, the mild-mannered Donny would never lift a hand to his beloved Ren in any other way than a caring one, or cheat on her either. Second on the list was Julie Otterman. She was married to Dicky, and all Velda’s instincts told her that beneath his charismatic surface was a rather unpleasant man. It was her guess that it was Julie Jenny was concerned about.

  Looking pensive, she sighed. ‘It’s a difficult situation you’re in, Jenny, and a difficult decision you have to make. But there’s far more to it than just clearing your conscience. If you stay quiet about this, then you’ll feel guilty every time you’re with your friend for keeping the knowledge from her. Yet if you don’t tell her and she finds out about it and the fact that you knew and didn’t tell her, then it will also damage your relationship with her. But then if you do tell her, she’s very likely going to be utterly humiliated that you are aware she’s been allowing her husband to treat her as he has been and done nothing about it. She might suspect that her husband is cheating on her but has no proof. You giving her proof will mean she has no choice but to accept it and do something about it, because if she doesn’t, she will be losing your respect as well as her own. There’s also the fact that she might not believe you; might accuse you of wanting him for yourself and trying to split them up. Ending a marriage is not an easy thing to do, Jenny. When your friend married her husband, she had all these hopes and dreams for her future with him, and despite his brutality and infidelity she might be clinging onto the hope that he might suddenly change his ways and she will have that happy-ever-after. He might be a terrible husband but, regardless, she might still love him and not be ready to leave him.’

  Jenny was gawping at her, horrified. ‘Oh God, I never thought of all this. Oh, I wish I had never seen what I did. But I did and I can’t forget it. What am I going to do, Velda?’ she beseeched.

  Velda looked helplessly at her. ‘This is one of those times when you’re the devil if you do and the devil if you don’t. I can’t advise you, lovey. This is a decision only you can make.’

  Jenny left Velda’s caravan in more of a turmoil about what to do than when she had arrived.

  * * *

  Solly’s efforts to convince Gem not to blame herself for handing over such a large amount of money to a conman fell on deaf ears. She couldn’t shake off the guilt that her actions had put a huge dent in the fair’s finances that was not going to be easy to mend, or the humiliation of allowing that young man to make a fool of her. At least she hadn’t had to suffer the gossip and snide remarks of the less than charitable types amongst the community – she was a very popular member but there were those who enjoyed nothing more than capitalising on another’s misfortunes for their own amusement – as Solly had insisted that the incident be kept between the two of them. The fair’s finances were the owner’s affair alone, unless they came to affect the community, which wasn’t the case, thank goodness. Had they been fleeced of a larger sum, things might have been different. Regardless, it was a glum Gem who was slumped in the pay booth of the helter-skelter that evening.

  Her sister-in-law, Fran, was her helper that night, handing mats out to the punters and generally making sure they behaved themselves whilst on the ride. Gem was usually a joy to work alongside, but tonight she had hardly said a word to Fran, or to any of the punters either as she took their money from them. It struck Fran that something was deeply upsetting her sister-in-law, and being as fond of her as she was, she wanted to offer her help.

  During a lull in the queue, she went into the pay booth.

  ‘I give up,’ she said. When she received no response, she repeated it more loudly: ‘OKAY, I GIVE UP.’

  Gem turned her head distractedly. ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch what you said.’

  Fran sighed. ‘I said, okay I give up.’

  Gem looked at her blankly. ‘Oh, all right. Before you go back to your van, though, can you stop by Solly on the dodgems and ask him to send me a gaff lad to replace you. Hope you feel better soon.’ She turned away and stared out of the window again.

  Fran grimaced, bemused. ‘What? No, I’m not giving up for the night because I feel poorly. It’s you I’m giving up on, guessing who’s died. Well, someone must have, judging by the mood you’re in tonight. You’re not acting like yourself at all. What’s the matter, love?’

  Gem bristled. ‘Nothing. I’m perfectly fine, thank you.’

  Fran eyed her like a headmistress would a naughty schoolgirl. ‘You’ll get painful spots on the end of your tongue for telling lies. You ain’t fine. You’re far from it. Spill the beans, Gem. What’s ailing you?’

  Gem was not a natural liar and was not feeling at all comfortable over not being truthful with Fran, who she knew was only asking because she was genuinely concerned about her. Sighing heavily, she said, ‘I want this going no further. I feel bad enough about it already without being gossiped about by the community busybodies.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Oh Fran, I’ve been such a bloody idiot and my stupidity has cost the business a lot of money.’

  Fran looked surprised. ‘Not like you to make a mistake. How did it happen?’

  ‘The mistake I made was taking someone at face value and not making certain they were who they said they were. You see, Solly was delayed from going down to the town hall this morning to settle the payment for using the council land for the fair, only we thought he’d been saved a trip because a young lad who said he was from the council came to collect it. I should have asked him to prove who he said he was, show me his credentials, but he came across as so genuine that I just handed over the money. I never even suspected anything was amiss when I asked for a receipt and he said he’d left his receipt book back in the office. I did say that it wasn’t right when he told me the council had upped the price, but he just told me that we’d need to take that up with the treasury department as he was just the errand boy. Solly was furious when I told him about the price rise, and was just about to go and tackle the town hall when the real man from the council turned up demanding payment, and that’s when it came to light that I’d been conned. I feel such a fool, Fran, and so humiliated and embarrassed. I’ll wring the little blighter’s neck if I ever cross paths with him again. Though it’s unlikely he’ll have the nerve to revisit the scene of his crime. It just maddens me that he got away with so much of our hard-earned money.’

  Fran knew there was nothing worse than being made a fool of. She appreciated fully how Gem felt, but she wasn’t about to make her feel any worse. She leaned over and clapped her shoulder, saying jocularly, ‘Good God, love, you ain’t on your own in being taken for a mug. It’s happened to me loads of times over the years. I got took
right in once by a pedlar that enticed me to buy a set of pans for a guinea. He swore blind they’d last me a lifetime, but they broke the first time I used them. I still feel ashamed about it to this day.’

  Fran’s story hadn’t made Gem feel any better, though. ‘A guinea is a far cry from two hundred and fifty quid, Fran,’ she said tersely.

  ‘I grant you it is, but just be thankful that was all he swindled you out of. What’s happened has happened, Gem, and wallowing in self-pity won’t change it. You being miserable is making everyone else miserable too. Best thing you can do now is try to make that money up, and you’re not doing that by putting customers off with your grim reaper look, are you?’

  Gem smiled wanly at her. ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Well get that smile back on your face, and quick, as there’s a group of young ’uns coming over to us now.’

  Fran was right. What was done was done and moping over what had happened was achieving nothing. Gem planted a huge smile on her face and said, ‘That better?’

  Fran grinned back at her. ‘Much.’

  The crowd that arrived was a boisterous one, joking and teasing each other good-naturedly. One of the lads, an extremely good-looking boy and he knew it, flirted outrageously with Gem in a bid to let him ride for free, but whereas previously she might have waved him good-naturedly through just for his cheek, now she was conscious that they couldn’t afford to lose any more revenue, so he paid the same fare as the rest of his crowd. The last of the group was a young man and his girlfriend. As soon as he appeared before her to pay for their tickets, she recognised him. How she kept her composure as she served him she had no idea, but as soon as he had pocketed his change, and he and his girlfriend had started to make their way up the steps, she flew out of the booth and accosted her sister-in-law, grabbing her arm and giving it a frenzied shake.

  ‘That was him, Fran. That was him.’