Chapter Nine All the Fun of the Fair

last chapter for now.. the rest is still in my head

Chapter Nine

‘All the Fun of the Fair’

 

Friday night was either darts or skittles night as a rule and sometimes both for Jack the husband, but Maude was now keen to demonstrate how much Jack junior, had already become part of the family and a trip to the fair was as good a way as any to demonstrate their strong family bond and to celebrate his arrival. Maude took absolutely ages to get ready and Brenda was obviously a chip off the old block. Jack senior sulked his socks off in the parlour and was over-heard to make several telephone calls from the hallway, presumably to cancel his previously arranged commitments.   

 

It was late by the time they set off and already dark when the Turner’s eventually pulled up some way from the main hullabaloo but within easy walking distance and in a sensible well lit spot behind the sausage-in-a-bun and candyfloss stalls. Entrance was free and rides and attractions were fixed at two pennies a shot or two-pence and a halfpenny for the Sizzler. Jack had never experienced anything like it in his life. The noise, the lights and the music simply took his breath away. No matter which direction he chose to look, everyone seemed happy and care free. Those that were not laughing or filling their faces was either engaged in a challenge or test of sorts, requiring physical strength, a fair amount of luck or some incredible dextrous skill. All of them seemed intent on winning a goldfish, or a teddy with a quiff before the night was through. 

 

Queues for the Sizzler, the ghost train, bumper cars and the tunnel of love stretched a hundred yards or more and Maude knew her bladder would not hold until they got home.

 

  “I’ll go and get us all a toffee apple shall I? The exercise will do me good”. Maude was very good at making excuses for her weak bladder and associated women’s problems, of which she had more than her fair share. While she was away, Jack hooked a rubber duck and so did Trevor with a little help from his older sister and each of the boys was asked to choose a prize from the bottom shelf. Jack senior had somehow managed to become separated from the rest of them and was making a bee-line for the beer tent and boxing ring. He knew Maude would know where to find him when the kids had spent up, or were getting bored. He had obviously underestimated them though and his thirst, because he was well into his third pint when Maude jabbed him in the ribs with her umbrella.

  “Have you seen them” she asked.

  “No, they were with you” he replied, trying to absolve himself of any possible blame but sensing Maude’s increasing anxiety, added

  “They’ll be fine luv, mark my words.”

 

The couple agreed to split up and search in opposite directions, meeting back at the Sizzler within a half hour. Maude set off in one direction head down, scanning both left and right like a demented eagle clutching three toffee apples and an umbrella to her chest. She was on a mission and would not rest until the family were altogether safe and sound. Her husband however, adopted a more leisurely and dignified pace.

  “Oh’ I just hope they watch where they’re walking, bloody dogs get everywhere, s**t” he exclaimed under his breath as his foot skidded on something unpleasant in the grass.

 

Young Jack had no idea that he and the two Turner children were the centre of so much fuss. He was too busy picking up another coconut and trying to absorb and make sense of all the sights and the unfamiliar sounds and smells of the fair. Brenda’s arms were already full to the point of overflowing with an assortment of cheap and tacky prizes, plus another coconut that Jack had won. 

  “Let’s go and find mum” Brenda pleaded, “I need to put some of this stuff down”.

  “Yeah why don’t you do that, eh kids” muttered the coconut-shy vendor, “Oh and be sure to give this to your mammy.” The huge Irish gentleman placed a single red rose made of tissue and wire behind one of little Trev’s ears who was already half asleep in his push-along, thumb wedged in the corner as usual.   

 

A couple of minutes later Maude was beside herself with relief and wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry when Jack patted her from behind and placed an arm as far as he could around her large waist.

  “We’ve got something for you Mrs. Turner” Jack said as he looked up into her face and handed over the small rosebud retrieved from behind Trevor’s ear. Maude bent forward and kissed him on the forehead,

  “Bless you Jack, now where’s that husband of mine?”      

 

Despite numerous distractions, it was not too long before they eventually caught up with the head of the household. Maude was like a bloody homing pigeon as far as her husband was concerned and certainly always did seem to know exactly where to find him.

  “Just look at you Jack Turner” she said, “what an example to set the children, half cut and bent on driving like that are you. Well you must be ruddy joking. I’ll not let you anywhere near a motor car until you sober up and that’s for sure.” 

  “Yippee”, exclaimed Brenda. “Now we can have even more fun”. Maude was too relieved at finding the kids to be really angry, but was certainly very convincing.

  “Now then, who wants minted peas on a plate before we go,” Maude asked. “Two Jack’s and a Brenda I suppose. Young Trev can have a toffee apple when he wakes up.”

 

Just as they began to tuck into their mushy peas, chips, and pickled whelks it started to drizzle quite heavily so tried to take shelter under the awning of ‘Barney Barnum’s freak show.’ Jack and Brenda were fascinated by the canvas and wooden panels depicting a two headed monster and a man with a fish’s tail amongst many other things. They both craned their necks until they hurt trying to catch a glimpse of the Hairy Wonder or the Merman in the cage or tank behind the tarpaulin screen. The proprietor was a real showman and certainly looked the part in his period costume. Every now and then he cracked the bullwhip and called at the top of his voice,

  “Roll-up-roll-up come and see the hydro-electric ik chick choola-monica and the hairy wonder, two shows in one. Half price for families of three score or more, roll up roll up…” 

In view of her husband being in no fit state to sit behind the wheel of a motor car and from bitter personal experience, could not imagine him that way for at least another hour or more. Maud discretely slipped a ten shilling note from her purse and which she promptly exchanged for an equivalent amount of coin from Barney Barnum’s pretty assistant. She then placed two sixpences in the palm of Jacks free hand and with a smile and a nod suggested he take Brenda for a ride or two while she and Trev stayed with the old man.

  “Mind not to talk to no strangers though and make sure you know where we are at all times” she added before her attention was drawn elsewhere.

 

Jack and Brenda set off in the direction of the Sizzler, waving to Maud as they went. Each bought a candyfloss whilst they were still in sight of her which made her glow inside. The pair then queued for ages for the dodgems and the Sizzler before being told they were under age and therefore not allowed on without an adult. It was whilst standing in line for the ‘Big Drop’ and listening to the sound of the live jazz quartet ‘Barmy Brian and the Brain Bashers’ fronted by a bloke called Dave on electric guitar that Jack’s attention was drawn to something he thought might one day come in handy. Brian later turned out to be the drummer and founder member of the band. 

Brenda was not that keen on jazz and urged Jack to leave the queue and move on to something more up her street but he seemed mesmerized by the manic saxophone and piano. Even when Dave was required to step to the side and replace a couple of strings, that pair he thought and the mad drummer seemed more than able to hold it all together. Brenda though was intent on moving on and stamped her foot impatiently. Jack somewhat grudgingly complied but not before he pocketed both the discarded guitar strings Dave obviously no longer had a use for. As they zigzagged from one stall or ride to another, Jack began to feel mildly intoxicated by the whole evenings experience and didn’t even seem to mind when Brenda placed her hand in his and pulled him in the direction of her favourite amusement.

 

‘The Slammer’ was essentially a miniature roller-coaster ride in pitch darkness and guaranteed the thrill of a lifetime. Prior to joining the queue, Brenda unashamedly confessed that she needed a pee before they boarded, adding

  “I’ve been on before and know what to expect, maybe you should have one too”. Jack declined but did agree to keep an eye open for anyone approaching whilst she voided her bladder on the grassy verge between two parked cars. When she had finished Jack advised her to wash her hands as soon as possible and handed back the helium filled balloon he had previously won for her.

 

The queue for The Slammer although quite long was slowly but constantly inching forward which seemed to suggest to Jack that the thrill he was guaranteed would not last more than a couple of minutes at most. Still, judging from the screams and the squeals that could be heard from inside the giant worm like contraption, something either exciting or very scary seemed to be going on in there. They continued to shuffle a few inches more and were just about to approach the kiosk and hand over their pennies when Brenda’s balloon exploded with a mighty loud bang beside her left ear.

 

Immediately behind them, two teddy boys possibly in their early twenties and a younger girl were laughing their socks off and it was blatantly obvious that the one relighting his cigarette was responsible for the balloon episode. Brenda almost jumped out of her shoes with fright and was beginning to hyperventilate. Jack swung on his heel and glowered at all three imagining what it might feel like to disembowel each of them in turn with a blunt knife.

  “You got a problem kid? The one with the sideburns and the drape-coat quipped while his mate and the girl leaning over both his arm and the wobbly hand rail giggled inanely, obviously under the influence.      

  “Not for long” Jack responded under his breath.

  “Eh what was that yer little bugger, get out me way.”

 

Jack was subsequently shoved from the duck board and onto the grass with Brenda being obliged to follow since she refused to let go of his hand. Surprisingly not a soul attempted to intervene on their behalf although they were allowed back in the queue without any problem. Obviously no one wanted to sit behind that rowdy bunch, especially in the dark. Even Brenda changed her mind about the ride and expressed the wish to get back to her folks. Jack though insisted he wanted to see what all the fuss was about and suggested that if she did not want to join him, she should stay put until he returned.

 

With only a yard and a bit more of a shuffle to go, Jack eagerly hopped on board and made himself as comfortable as possible with an empty seat on either side. He was aware that a particularly obese couple and presumably their fat child had crammed themselves into the carriage directly behind him. But who knows who slipped in behind them he did not care to look, he was far too intent memorizing the exact seating arrangements of the three in front. The safety rail was subsequently lowered and secured via a single bolt system and once the gear and chain mechanism was engaged The Slammer slowly came to life. 

 

It all began with a series of judders and a painfully slow climb, which presumably seemed much greater in the pitch dark than it actually was but quickly picked up speed on the descent. Up and down and round about, hugging impossibly tight corners it continued to gain velocity until the air was sucked out of your cheeks and your knuckles turned white. The darkness then became filled with a low rumble and the countless screams and moans belonging to those who were apparently experiencing the thrill of their lives.

 

Jack estimated they were less than two minutes into the ride when they once again began to slow down and climb to an invisible summit. Very soon, in less than twenty seconds or so he predicted they would reach that point where they would begin to hurtle downward and everyone would then gasp and scream with fear again or the sheer exhilaration and thrill of it all. As luck would have it, just as they came to an almost complete stop and were seemingly balanced at the point of no return. One of the teddy boys in front was tempted to take advantage of the reduced rate of knots and struck a match from which to light his cigarette.

 

That split second was all the time Jack needed to thread one end of his recently acquired guitar string directly through the forged eye at the opposite end to form the perfect noose which he then slipped over the head of Big Ted without drawing any attention whatsoever to it’s strategically placed and intended deadly presence. Exactly five seconds before The Slammer was scheduled to commence its final breathtaking descent and arrive at the unexpectedly abrupt halt from which it gained its name, Jack slid under the restraining bar to which the free end of his guitar string had been firmly secured and stepped out onto the darkened gantry from where he made an uninterrupted exit just a single second before the ride of a lifetime shuddered to a halt and for some reason, all hell broke loose inside.

 

Brenda was waiting exactly where he had left her less than five minutes previously and as he crawled out from the inky blackness of the Slammers innards, into the pulsing multicoloured and vibrant fairground facade, he felt obliged to cautiously approach her from behind.

  “Okay then, let’s go” he said.

  “Did you like it” Brenda asked?

  “You bet I did, we will have to do that again sometime” he insisted.

 

By the time they eventually managed to get back home, which of course first necessitated the full sobering up of her husband Jack, Maude let rip like a bloody machine gun leaving him in no doubt whatsoever who was going to wear the trousers from then on in the Turner household. Young Jack and Brenda took it all in from their vantage point at the top of the stairs. Interestingly enough young Jack appeared to be settling in quite nicely and the Turner way of life seemed to suit his easy going but sometimes quirky predisposition. 

 

When he was later asked, Jack admitted struggling to recall a time when he had ever felt happier than throughout his stay with the Turner’s. Each of the necessary welfare check and progress report was correspondingly positive and the proud Turner family were eventually given the green light for adoption. A school therefore had to be found quickly and none was considered better than St’ James Church of England infants, which happened to be right on the doorstep.  What a stroke of luck that turned out to be.  

 

Jack was subsequently fully kitted out in his new school colours before you could even say Bob’s your uncle. The rather less than surreptitious exchange of a small package entirely wrapped in newspaper for the four silver shillings which took place over the back garden fence between Maud and her immediate neighbour Betty Bradshaw ensured the whole street was happy and everything was well above board.

 

Brown and gold suited Jack right down to the ground and the white ankle socks were set off a treat by the school badge emblazoned cap. His newly acquired satchel and blazer, although only on temporary loan from another neighbour Mrs. Pratt whose eldest son had long since moved on and who’s youngest wouldn’t need them for at least a couple of years, or more. That evening, despite feeling extremely uncomfortable being paraded around the parlour for all to see, Jack decided it made more sense to play along with his new family for the time being. 

 

Later at the tea-table Maude’s face looked a treat, even Jack senior had to admit there was still something about her when she let go and eased up a bit. Everyone was duly assigned a china plate from the dresser except young Trev who had his own plastic bowl. Each was subsequently offered a slice of ham or tongue to go with the obligatory tomato, sliced cucumber drowned in vinegar and lettuce leaves. Brenda was asked to pass the bread and margarine or dripping whilst Maud proceeded to cut the iced sponge cake into five unequal portions to round off their feast in style later with a nice cup of tea.  

 

As always, any unnecessary conversation at the meal table was discouraged in the Turner household in view of it being considered bad manners and supposedly interfered with the digestion. Therefore, as soon as it was served the whole family proceeded to tuck in, apart from Trevor who was seriously struggling to corner the half tomato in his bowl with a spoon. Brenda noticed her younger brothers increasing frustration and offered him her knife.

  “Don’t give him that love; he will have his bloody eye out”.  What an interesting prospect, Jack thought.

 

No sooner than the plates were cleared and any crumbs swept away, the cards came out and the radiogram was turned on. Maud had long since acquired the habit of taking in the evening news but more recently only for the background noise it provided while Jack and Brenda occupied themselves on the mat in front of the fire. On this particular occasion they were playing snap. Unfortunately though, every time one of them won a round Trevor would jump out of his skin until eventually packed off to bed before he became a nervous wreck. Jack senior took this as his cue to leave but failed to notice the look of weary resignation on Maude’s face as he pulled the overcoat around his shoulders and planted a light kiss on the back of his wife’s head before setting off for the pub.

  “Night luv won’t be late, promise. We’re on a friendly against that lot from the Jolly Crispin, it could all be over by ten.”

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This feels like a completely different story, even tho Jack is the thread that connects this chapter to the previous ones. I would almost think of this as being the beginning of "Volume 2" . . . a sequel to the book that has come before this. I love your storytelling, showing great imagination, palpable details, & this is a nice break from the more psychologically inclined first section . . . now these characters are out & about in the world, more than being "in one's head" with clinical observations. You are a great writer naturally & I enjoy your flippant, elevated, tongue-in-cheek tone. You give me great ideas for how I could use a similar observational perspective when writing about some stories from my working past. Once I fired a guy & he went home (minutes after I walked him out of the gate) & he emptied his 6-shooter into his girlfriend. So many stories & so little attention span for sitting my a*s down for long periods! It has been my pleasure to read thus far in this amazing creation of your fertile imagination! (((NUBS))) Fondly, Margie

[Neville]

oh my gawd.... that is terrible... and despite all that, you still kept on coming back for more... I think I luv's ya BG x