‘If we weren’t so busy, it might be fun to go to the flicks or to a dance without having to make arrangements for the children,’ she said to Darky one evening when he had popped round to see how they were getting on. ‘But the truth is, Maggie has become a real little housewife and she’s even beginning to cook pretty well. I don’t mean dinners – she’s always been able to do that – but baking and such. So did you say you were off this Saturday?’
Darky nodded. ‘That’s right. So I thought we might go Christmas shopping, just the two of us. It may be our last opportunity, because Mam will be bringing Merry home next Monday and I dare say young Maggie will be back around then, so we might as well make the most of it.’
Patty agreed and the two of them had an excellent day investigating the big stores on Bold Street and Ranelagh Street, coming home laden with parcels which were stowed away in various hiding places.
‘And now let’s round off the day with a visit to the Grafton Ballroom – after you’ve made me a good high tea as a thank you for me pains,’ Darky said as Patty pulled the kettle over the fire and went into the food cupboard for the loaf of bread. ‘Tea and toast is all very well, young Patty, but I’m a fellow with a big frame and I need plenty of fuel to stoke up me fire.’
Patty giggled. ‘You mean you’ve got hollow legs,’ she told him, briskly cutting two thick slices off the loaf and impaling one on a toasting fork. ‘Here, hold this while I warm the butter and find up a jar of honey.’
‘Oh well, if it’s all that’s on offer.’ Darky sighed. ‘I s’pose there’s not much time to make a proper meal or we’ll miss the dancing.’
‘I don’t mind missing the dancing,’ Patty said, emerging flushed and tousled from the food cupboard. She plonked the jar of honey down on the table and pushed back her thick blonde curls, which had somehow managed to escape from their bun as they shopped. ‘Why do you want to go dancing all of a sudden?’
‘Because it’s the only way to legally get me arms round you,’ Darky said, his tone light. ‘Tell you what, Patty, if you aren’t in the mood for dancing, why don’t we go over to the fair at New Brighton? I remember you telling me once that you and Ellen were going over there when summer comes so’s you could remember what a nice day we’d had before I spoilt it all. If you and I were to go together and have a good time on the fair, d’you reckon that would convince you that I’m not such a bad feller after all?’
He spoke lightly but Patty thought she’d heard an underlying seriousness in his tone and suddenly felt sorry for him. He had been so good to her, so kind to Maggie and Merrell, such a gentle and undemanding escort. She might at least give him the satisfaction of scotching the feeling that he had ruined her life by his behaviour that day in New Brighton! ‘All right,’ she said therefore. ‘I’m not saying you’re a saint, Darky, but you’ve been really good to us, same as your mum has. I guess I’ll enjoy the fair with you a good deal more than I’d enjoy it with anyone else.’
Darky’s face lit up but he said nothing, only holding out the toasting fork to the fire, and presently, their hunger and thirst satisfied, the two of them set off. It was strange, Patty reflected as they boarded the ferry, that she felt so excited and light-hearted. Perhaps it was because the outing was such a spur of the moment affair, an unexpected treat after a long day of slogging round the shops. It was a nice evening, what was more, despite the fact that it was 22 December. The air was cool but crisp against Patty’s face, and overhead the stars blazed down from a sky of velvety blackness. Patty stood by the rail with Darky beside her, and when the ferry docked at New Brighton and Darky slid an arm round her waist she did not object. In fact, she put her own arm round him, telling herself severely that they must not get separated as the crowd jostled and pushed its way down the gangplank. Darky made no comment, but as they reached the shore and walked along the pier towards the promenade, he released her waist and slid his hand down her arm until he was clasping her fingers. ‘Is this permitted, Nurse Peel?’ he said laughingly, gently swinging their clasped hands. ‘Only if not, I do suggest you tuck your hand in me elbow, because the crowds at the fair are going to be something awful. Can you hear it?’
Patty could. In her present mood, however, she was quite content to hold Darky’s hand, and indeed, when they reached the fair, it became a necessity to cling to one another, or they would most certainly have got separated. The fair was brilliantly lit with smoking naphtha flares and electric lights around all the larger attractions. Everyone was in holiday mood, and when Darky bought two ridiculous ‘kiss me quick’ hats and a large bag of chips, with so much salt and vinegar on them that Patty’s eyes watered, she felt that she was becoming a different person, the person she ought to have been – light-hearted, fun loving and eager for all the enjoyment the fair had to offer.
‘Swing boats first,’ Darky shouted in her ear. ‘We can swing slow while we eat these chips and then go on the other things once our hands are free. How do you like the cake-walk and the bumper cars?’
‘I like everything tonight,’ Patty screamed above the din, as he helped her into a swing boat. ‘But don’t forget, Darky, this is my first ever time on the fair. I don’t know what a cake-walk
is
, nor yet a bumper car – only I’m sure I’ll enjoy both of them, because it’s that sort of evening.’
Patty was soon proved right. She loved the soft, swooping motion of the swing boat and shouted to Darky that she was sure that if she opened her mouth she would presently swallow the stars, which made him laugh. She wasn’t so keen on the cake-walk, which jiggled about and lifted her skirt above her knees, causing her to give squeaks of dismay. In order to hold her skirt down, she had to let Darky put both arms about her to stop her from being jiggled over, and it was a laughing, crimson-faced girl who came off the cake-walk and headed eagerly for the bumper cars, and then for the merry-go-round and the waltzers.
After the waltzers, when she had clung very close to Darky and hidden her face against his shoulder, they bought pink candyfloss and shared a bottle of ginger beer between them. Then Darky steered her away from the more rumbustious entertainments towards the part of the fair where the sideshows were – hoop-la, penny-falls, darts, test your strength and similar attractions. ‘I’ll prove I’m the strongest man in the world,’ Darky told her, handing over his money, seizing the huge mallet and raising it above his head. ‘I’m so happy this evening that I swear I could pick up the whole fair and hold it above me head if I’d a mind.’ With that, he thwacked the mallet down on to the platform, making the indicator shoot up to the very top of the tower, so that bells jangled madly.
‘Well, if that don’t beat the Dutch,’ the man on the nearby shooting gallery called out, emerging from behind his stall. ‘Don’t do that again, mister, or likely you’ll bust the spring and then where will we be?’
He was laughing, coming towards them, and Patty turned at the sound of his voice and stared. Then she jumped forward and grasped the man’s arm. ‘Why, I do declare, it’s Toby Rudd, isn’t it?’ she said, her tone incredulous. ‘It
is
you, isn’t it, Toby? I don’t suppose you remember me, but…’
The young man turned and stared at her, then lifted the ‘kiss me quick’ hat off her blonde head and whistled, a slow smile spreading across his face as he replaced the hat. ‘Not remember you?’ he echoed. ‘Why, as if I could forget! You’re Patty Peel, me very first girlfriend!’
*
It had been a joyful reunion, Patty reflected as, very much later that evening, she and Darky made their way back towards the ferry. Toby had been absolutely charming to both herself and Darky, even going to the length of getting a young lad to take over the shooting gallery so that he could entertain them both in his large green caravan. Patty was fascinated as he bustled about, getting out tin mugs, making tea in a big brown pot and producing, from a small cupboard, a very large and delicious-looking fruitcake.
‘What a wonderful cake! Did your wife make it?’ Patty asked disingenuously, and was rewarded by a quick, laughing glance from Toby’s dark eyes.
‘Me wife? Now wharrever made you say that?’ he said, grinning. ‘Does your husband like fruitcake, Patty?’
‘Since, as yet, I have no husband, I couldn’t say, I’m sure,’ Patty had said demurely, smiling at Darky. ‘I did introduce you, Toby; I said that this was my friend Darky Knight. Don’t you remember?’
‘Oh aye, but then if you look round this caravan you’ll see there isn’t any sign anywhere of a woman’s presence,’ Toby assured her. ‘As for the fruitcake, there’s a baker’s shop in Rowson Street. Mrs Howe delivers a fresh-baked loaf every other day, a fruitcake once a week an’ apple pies, crumbles and puddings every two or three days.’ He cut three large slices of cake and handed them round, then sat down and picked up his mug of steaming tea. ‘Well? What d’you think of me little home, then? Ever been in a travelling caravan before?’
He was looking at Patty as he spoke but it was Darky who answered him. ‘I don’t reckon either of us have, since this is Patty’s first visit to the fair,’ he observed. ‘It’s a deal bigger than I’d imagined and plenty of room for more than one. Why, you could bring up a family in here!’
‘That’s right; I bought a decent-sized van because I like a bit o’ space about me and because I’ve always meant to settle down one day, get me a wife and then some kids,’ Toby said easily. ‘But when you’re travelling on all the while, never staying more than a day or two in one place, you never get the opportunities, like.’
‘What about the fair girls? There’s lots of them,’ Patty asked. She felt the warm blood rush to her cheeks and hoped it wasn’t too obvious to the men. ‘I thought fair people intermarried … at least, I don’t suppose I’ve thought about it at all really, but now you mention it it seems the obvious thing.’
‘Aye, fair folk do intermarry,’ Toby agreed. ‘But I’ve always fancied quite a different sort of girl meself, someone with a more practical outlook. D’you remember when you were a kid, Patty, you always said you were going to be a nurse? I really admired your single-mindedness. At an age when most kids dream of goin’ on the stage or becomin’ a fillum star, you were just dead set on nursing, helping folk. I always admired you for that.’ He grinned across at Darky. ‘An’ now I suppose you’re goin’ to tell me that she’s the manageress of a smart dress shop or a secretary in a big insurance firm,’ he ended ruefully.
‘He will tell you nothing of the kind,’ Patty said indignantly. ‘I
am
a nurse – a midwife, actually – and I love my work. I’d be bored to death in a shop or an office because every day would be just the same and you’d meet the same people. In my job every day is different and all the patients are different too.’
Toby nodded. ‘I always thought you’d stick to what you said,’ he assured her. ‘It’s the same with me. Remember how I always swore I’d work the fairs and one day be Riding Master on my own gaff? Well, maybe I’ve a way to go before achieving that, but I own the shooting gallery and at the end of this season I reckon I’ll mebbe buy me a hoop-la stall. Though if I’m to branch out I shall have to start thinking seriously about marriage. So you can put the word about that I’m in the market for a nice, steady little wife – a blue-eyed blonde preferred,’ he ended, grinning at them both.
Patty giggled, but Darky answered Toby at once. ‘If that’s a serious suggestion, I don’t think Patty here would do for you at all,’ he said bluntly. ‘She loves her work and I don’t think she’d take to a travelling life at all. Come to that, I’ve never heard of a travelling midwife, have you?’
‘Ah, but haven’t you guessed? I’m thinking of settling down,’ Toby said at once. ‘That’s why I’ve come to New Brighton, which is a permanent fair and stays here all the year round. So you see, I might not be movin’ on when spring comes, not if I’ve found meself a nice little wife by then.’
‘Oh, well, in that case, we’ll ask around for you,’ Patty said blithely. ‘Because I’m not thinking of marriage, why should I? I’ve got my own nice little home and my own nice little family and we all rub along just fine, without any man to interfere.’
‘An’ wharr’ve you gorra say to that, Darky?’ Toby said equally lightly, but Patty fancied that his question was more serious than it sounded. ‘Aren’t you plannin’ to wed this lovely lady one o’ these days?’
Patty looked across at Darky and saw a shutter come down behind his eyes, though he spoke perfectly pleasantly. ‘Patty and me’s good friends, real good friends, and I want to keep it that way,’ he said firmly. ‘Now, queen, if we’re to catch the last ferry, it’s time we were movin’ on.’ He turned back to Toby. ‘Many thanks for your kind hospitality. Any time you’re in Liverpool, there’ll be a welcome for you at the Knight house.’
‘I’ll come with you, just down to the pier,’ Toby said eagerly, getting to his feet as they did. ‘I’d come all the way but it would mean swimmin’ home if you’re catchin’ the last ferry.’ As they left the caravan, he tucked Patty’s hand into the crook of his elbow, patting it and saying confidentially: ‘I don’t mean to risk losin’ touch with you again, Nurse Peel. Let me see, tomorrow’s Sunday, so I’m off all day. How about meeting? I could come round to your place and then we could go out somewhere. Or you could come over to the fair and let me introduce you to all me pals. It were impossible tonight because the stallholders were all busy, but tomorrow everybody will be off, the same as me.’ He turned to Darky. ‘We’re such old friends, d’you see? I’ve thought about her for years, hoping to get back to Liverpool so’s we could meet up again, tell each other what’s been happenin’. And wi’ Christmas so close, I guess I’ve got to seize me opportunity like.’