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  A bit to Nita was better than nothing, and neither was she bothered that she had never seen this good-looking man before. He was a knight in shining armour as far as she was concerned; all he was lacking was his white horse. She gratefully fell on him – ‘Oh, thank you, mister, thank you!’ – and herded him off before he could change his mind. Owen then departed for his own place of work too.

  On her way back to her stall, the disgruntled Mavis Archer crossed paths with Gem, who was on her way to the cakewalk, where she was working in the pay booth that afternoon. As they passed each other, Gem smiled a greeting at the older woman. ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Archer.’

  Mavis pursed her lips. ‘Might be for you, but not for us having a stall next to them. Big Sam would never have told us to deal with it ourselves. Be turning in his grave at how his son is behaving.’

  Her words stopped Gem in her tracks. Spinning on her heel, she called out, ‘What do you mean by that, Mrs Archer?’

  Mavis Archer stopped and turned back to face her. Folding her arms under her bosom, she gave a disdainful sniff before she responded. ‘Just what I said. Big Sam would never have told us to deal with our own problems then run off to hide himself like a scared cat. And it weren’t just me he said it to either.’ She wagged a warning finger at Gem. ‘I tell yer now, Mrs Grundy, with your husband not sorting out this problem I’ve got, well, we’ll be lucky if there ain’t a lynching at the end of the day. Don’t say I didn’t warn yer.’

  With that, she turned and stomped off into the excited crowds now streaming into the area.

  Gem raked a worried hand through her hair. Something definitely wasn’t right with Solly. She needed to find him and ask him just what was going on. Her own work forgotten, she shot off in search of him.

  The gaff lads helping out on the dodgems, where Solly was supposed to be in charge this afternoon, hadn’t seen him and were wondering where he was themselves. Hurriedly thanking them for keeping the cars running during his absence, Gem tried all the other big rides, but there was no sign of him at any of those either. She was about to approach Harry Dobson in the pay booth of the House of Fun when she noticed that no one was queuing for the helter-skelter; in fact the chain was across the entrance and the Closed sign was swinging from it. Pete Jenkins, a long-standing employee, was sitting in the pay booth with his feet up on the counter, thumbing through a tattered magazine. A closed ride was lost revenue. Momentarily forgetting her quest to find her husband, Gem went over and rapped purposefully on the glass front.

  Pete jumped, looking startled for a moment, then dropped his feet off the counter and sat up to attention. ‘Oh, hello, Mrs Grundy, what can I do for yer?’

  ‘Tell me why you haven’t opened the skelter yet? It’s nearly half two!’

  ‘I opened at two but was told to shut it again by Mr Grundy before he went on up. Not sure what he’s doing up there, though, as he’d no tools with him. Been up there ages he has.’

  Frowning, Gem stood back and looked up towards the top of the garishly painted helter-skelter almost fifty feet above. There was no sign of Solly in any of the cut-out arched windows facing her way. What was he doing up there? Without further ado, she stepped over the chain and dashed up the twisting staircase, eventually arriving breathless at the top.

  She found her husband sitting hunched on a pile of coconut mats on the small platform at the top of the chute, his head buried in his hands, quietly sobbing. Upset by his obvious distress, she knelt down beside him, placing her arm around his shoulder. ‘Solly, what on earth is the matter?’ she said softly.

  Without lifting his head, he mumbled, ‘Go away, Gem.’

  ‘Oh, but sweetheart—’

  He lifted his head to glower darkly at her and snapped, ‘I said go, Gem. I don’t want to talk to you. I just want to be left alone.’ Then to her shock, to emphasise his point, he pushed her hard on her shoulder. The unexpectedness of his action made her topple sideways, hitting her head hard on the wooden floor. Shocked and dazed, she righted herself to see that he had buried his head back in his hands, shoulders slumped as though he’d the weight of the world on them.

  It was agonising for her to witness her husband in such a state. As he wouldn’t talk to her, she felt helpless as to what to do for him. Velda obviously hadn’t yet found an opportunity to get him on his own to try and make him open up over what was ailing him. Well, he was on his own now … She went off to fetch the older woman.

  There was a queue of people waiting patiently outside Velda’s red and yellow striped tent. The flaps of the tent were closed, with a sign on the board saying a reading was in progress. To avoid a riot, she informed the waiting punters that she wasn’t queue-jumping, but that management needed to talk to the fortune-teller. Then she pulled aside one of the flaps and went inside.

  Velda was in the middle of dealing the tarot cards when her unexpected visitor arrived. ‘Sorry to intrude like this,’ Gem said, ‘but I really need you.’

  The brash-looking young woman Velda was reading for looked most put out and snapped, ‘So do I, and I was here first, so you wait yer turn. Madam Velda was just consulting the cards over which proposal I should accept, Geoff’s or Maurice’s. I can’t decide which one of them is the better bet, so I’m hoping the cards will help me make the right decision.’

  Velda and Gem flashed a look at each other, both knowing they were thinking the same thing. That they pitied whichever man she did decide to marry, unaware as he would be that his future had been decided on the turn of a tarot card.

  Velda knew that to interrupt a reading, Gem must need to speak to her on a matter of extreme emergency. She fished in the pocket of her voluminous dress and pulled out a florin. ‘Here’s half your money back as you’ve only had half your reading. Come back another time and I’ll do you another for half-price.’ Then she leaned forward and eyed the young woman meaningfully. ‘If I was you, I wouldn’t marry either of those blokes. If one of them was the right one for you, you’d know yourself and wouldn’t need to be asking the Tarot for guidance.’

  The woman looked at her for a moment before she took the money and slipped it into her own pocket. ‘Yeah, yer right. Geoff always puts his friends and football before me, and I can’t see that changing when we’re married, and Maurice might worship the ground I walk on and would do anything for me, but he also has a widowed mother he’d do anything for, who’s already hinting about how difficult she’ll find it to manage on her own should Maurice get married, so I’m sure you can see as well as me where that’s heading. I’ll be giving them both the heave-ho. Plenty more fish in the sea, ain’t there.’ She beamed in delight. ‘Thanks, Madam Velda.’

  As soon as the punter had disappeared through the flap, Velda demanded, ‘Is it Solly?’

  Wringing her hands in despair, Gem told her, ‘He’s had some sort of breakdown. He’s shut the helter-skelter and is sitting crying on the platform at the top. He won’t talk to me. I tried, but he just won’t.’

  Velda heaved her big body up and went over to give Gem an affectionate hug. ‘Well let’s hope I have more luck. Can you explain to the queue that I’ve been called away and put my Back Later sign on the board?’ With that she disappeared through an opening in the back of her tent.

  When she arrived at the top of the helter-skelter, she found Solly just as Gem had described.

  ‘Phew,’ she puffed. ‘Goodness, it’s been that long since I’ve been up a skelter, I’d forgotten what a climb it is.’

  At the sound of her voice, Solly lifted his head and eyed her with irritation. ‘Gem sent you, I presume. Well as I told her, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to be on my own. Now will you please go, Velda.’

  If ever she had seen someone in the depths of despair, who had lost the will to live, she was looking at them now, and it distressed her beyond words. She had no intention of leaving until she had done her best to help Solly resolve whatever it was that was troubling him.

  ‘Yes, of course I’ll respect y
our wishes, Solly,’ she said. She feigned a look of pure exhaustion before she added, ‘But… er… would you mind me just resting for a minute? The climb has certainly taken it out of me. Only a few years ago I’d have had the energy to run up and down those stairs several times without stopping, but that’s far from the case now.’

  He grudgingly responded, ‘Just a minute or so then.’

  So far so good, she thought to herself. As she eased her bulk down beside him on the mats, she said lightly, ‘Could really do with a cuppa right now. Pity I didn’t bring a flask and sandwiches and we could have had a picnic.’

  He glared at her incredulously. ‘Really, Velda, I can’t believe you would suggest something like that in the very place my father died. Have you no respect?’

  Her words might have come across as disrespectful to Solly, but Velda had chosen them very carefully in the hope of getting a conversation going, and was relieved they had worked. ‘Oh, I’ve every respect for your father, Solly, as you well know. He was a special man and I was very fond of him.’ She spoke gently. ‘Is this why you’re here, to feel close to him in the last place he was alive?’

  Solly looked at her blankly for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. ‘Didn’t set out to,’ he said defensively. ‘I just found myself here.’

  ‘And has coming here helped you?’

  He frowned at her quizzically. ‘Helped me?’

  ‘When people go to places that remind them of their loved ones, it’s usually to ask for their spiritual help.’

  He scoffed. ‘My dad is dead and I’ve accepted that I won’t see him again. I don’t believe in all that stuff about life after death and loved ones guiding us from the hereafter.’

  ‘Yet you’re here, Solly, in the last place Sam was alive, so deep down you must believe there’s something in it. Many people don’t believe in God, yet when they’re in trouble, He is the first one they turn to for help.’ She placed a hand gently on his knee. ‘Are you here to ask your father’s spirit to help you with something? Is the fair in financial trouble? Is someone causing you difficulties you’re not sure how to deal with? Is one of your sons in bother? Is it your brother you’re worried about, wondering where he is or what he’s been up to since he absconded—’

  He shook his head emphatically and cut her short. ‘No, no, it’s none of those things.’ It was a moment before he spoke again, so softly Velda had a job to hear him. ‘I… I need my father’s forgiveness, Velda. I need to tell him how sorry I am.’ His raised his head and settled desolate eyes on her. ‘But how do I do that when he’s dead?’

  Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Forgiveness! Whatever would you need your father to be forgiving you for?’

  There was a long silence before he eventually said, ‘For not being the man he thought I was.’ It wasn’t his intention to divulge to Velda his innermost feelings, but before he could stop himself, he found himself blurting, ‘I’m letting him down, Velda. I’ve not got what it takes to be boss of this business. It’s all too much for me. Such a huge responsibility, and more than I can handle on my own. I’m frightened of letting the fair folk down, but even more terrified of letting down my family. All their futures are in my hands. I’ve tried so hard to deal with things how my father would have, but I’m scared of not getting it right and us all landing up on the scrapheap. I was looking forward to the start of the season, of making Dad proud of me by making it the best one we’d ever had, but then that very first morning when we set out for Grimethorpe, it suddenly hit me that he was no longer here for me to go to for help and approval, and it was like this enormous weight settled on my shoulders as I realised it was all down to me now.

  ‘I’ve been trying to shove it behind me and get on with things, but it all came to a head this afternoon when it seemed to me that everyone was demanding help at the same time and I just couldn’t think straight. I wanted them to leave me alone. All I could think of was getting as far away from them as I could.’ Tears pricked his eyes and his voice was choked. ‘I so wanted to talk to Gem about this. I know she’s worried sick about me. But I just couldn’t, as I’m terrified she’ll think she’s married a useless lump who’s scared of his own shadow. No matter what was going on in my father’s private life, he never let it affect his job. He would be so ashamed of me.’

  Velda shook her head resolutely. ‘You’re wrong, Solly. Sam would have understood.’

  ‘Understood what?’

  ‘That you’re grieving for the loss of your father, a father you loved very much and respected deeply. You might have accepted that he’s gone, but you’re far from over mourning him. The fact that you’re still hell-bent on doing things the way he did and looking for his approval tells me that. Now you listen to me, Solly Grundy. Sam made you his heir because he knew that you would run the fair in a decent and honest manner, like he always did, but in your own way, not his. If we all continued to work in the same way our parents did, nothing would ever progress. You’re Sam’s son, but you’re also your own man, with ways and ideas of your own that he knew you’d use to take the fair forward into the future. Stop worrying how he would have done things and instead worry about how best to do them yourself. You might not be a believer, but I do believe in the hereafter and I know that Sam is up there now, watching you with a big smile on his face.’

  Solly stared at her for what seemed an eternity before his shoulders sagged and he said softly, ‘I hope so. I just miss him so much. Having him for a father was like having a safety net beneath me. That net has gone now and I’m worried about who’ll catch me when I fall.’

  ‘What makes you think you will? You know as much about running a fair as any ringmaster does. You certainly had the best teacher. And you’re not the type who would do anything reckless to put Grundy’s in jeopardy.’ She looked at him meaningfully before she went on. ‘Grief is a funny thing. It affects people in all sorts of ways. In your case, your need to prove that your father was right to make you his heir has made you doubt yourself. You need to have faith in yourself instead, like he did.’

  Solly again looked blankly at Velda for several long moments before he took a deep breath and said, ‘Yes, he did have faith in me or he wouldn’t have done what he did.’

  She patted his knee affectionately. ‘You’ll make mistakes along the way. You’re only human after all. Sam made plenty of them. When he did, though, he owned up to them, put them right as best he could, then put them behind him, but by God he made sure he never made the same mistakes again. And while I have this chance, I need to point out that you’re far more easy-going than ever Sam was, so some fair folk might think they can take liberties with you they wouldn’t have dared attempt with him. You’ll have to toughen up some, Solly. You have it in you to be as good if not better than your father. When it came to naming his heir, I have no doubt that had it not been for fairground traditions pulling on his conscience, he would not have had any struggle making his decision between you and Sonny. And you do have someone standing behind you ready to catch you if you fall and help you get back on your feet again. Not only Gem, but your three children too.’

  Solly sat staring into space for quite some time, digesting all Velda had told him, before he took a deep breath, sat up straight and said with conviction, ‘Gem has never failed to support me through anything. How could I have treated her so badly these past weeks? I really wasn’t thinking straight at all. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to her, show her I’m still the man she married. And I’ll move heaven and earth to prove Dad was right to leave the fair in my hands.’

  Velda looked upwards. ‘Did you hear that, Solly?’

  He frowned. ‘Hear what?’

  ‘That voice from above. It said, “That’s the man I knew my son was.”’

  Solly looked at her strangely for a moment before he grinned and slapped her affectionately on her arm. ‘You are a card, Velda.’

  She chuckled. ‘I have my moments. Well, come on, then, you’ve got a fair to run, though
first I know that lovely wife of yours would appreciate a visit to let her know you’re all right. Oh, but before you shoot off, could you give me a hand getting up? I think I’ve set solid squatted down on these mats.’

  * * *

  When Gem saw her husband bounding through the crowds towards the pay booth of the cakewalk with a smile on his handsome face and an aura of purpose and authority about him, she knew immediately that Velda had worked her magic and had made him deal with whatever it was that had been plaguing him. Jumping up from her stool, she came out to meet him. Before she could say anything, he had enveloped her in his arms and was professing his apologies to her for his recent behaviour. His remorse was not important to Gem, only the fact that she had her husband back. She did make him promise, though, that if ever he should feel troubled again, he would talk to her about it.

  Having restored harmony with his wife, Solly then went to make amends for his unacceptable response to the fair folk who had come to him with their problems earlier. He paid a quick visit to the dodgems first to confirm that the two gaff lads were coping during his absence and to ask them to hold the fort a little longer. It was his intention to attempt to get the car running next to take Nita and Rosa to Huddersfield, but since the quickest way to get to the area where the vehicles were parked was past the section of stalls where the Archers had a pitch, he decided he might as well deal with that problem first.

  From a discreet distance he watched the goings-on of the new arrivals to confirm that Mavis’s accusations were justified. It didn’t take long to ascertain that they were. Not only had the Packers’ stall been pulled forward a foot or so and their prizes hung well over the boundary line, but their provocatively dressed daughter was accosting male punters like she was enticing them into a brothel, while Packer himself was shouting through a loudspeaker telling punters not to bother with the other stalls as his was the only one whose prizes were worth winning. Maybe other fair owners turned a blind eye to stallholders operating in an underhand manner, but here at Grundy’s everyone behaved decently so that all had an equal chance to relieve the punters of the money in their pockets.