Twisted Strands (14 page)

They walked along, Richard shortening his long stride to match Bridie’s steps. He was wearing, not his uniform as she had hoped, but a grey worsted suit, gloves and a trilby hat with a
black band. He wore grey spats over black leather shoes and he carried a cane.

‘You look awfully smart, Uncle Richard.’

He glanced down at her, his eyes wrinkling as he smiled. ‘So do you. I like the boater.’ Bridie was wearing the straw hat that Andrew had bought her, today trimmed with red, white
and blue ribbons to show her patriotism.

‘Why’s it called the Goose Fair?’ she asked.

As they walked, joining the throng all heading towards Market Place, Richard explained. ‘Nottingham Goose Fair has been famous for centuries. There’s not much you can’t buy
there – even a wife!’

‘A wife?’ Bridie looked up at him.

‘Not now, of course,’ Richard chuckled. ‘But they say that in the old days men used to auction their wives. I always thought it a bit dubious anyway. I mean, if a man had a
good wife, why would he want to sell her?’

‘I read a book about a man selling his wife to a sailor. He was drunk at the time, I think.’

‘I expect most of them were. Farmers from neighbouring counties and even beyond used to walk here, driving their geese and covering about ten miles a day.’

‘You mean the geese had to walk?’ Bridie, tenderhearted as ever, asked. When Richard nodded, she murmured, ‘Poor things.’

‘They used to fatten them up in the cornfields after harvest.’

Bridie nodded. Even now, back home on the Duns-more estate, geese were allowed on the stubble left in the fields after harvest. She laughed. ‘They’re like gleaners.’

‘That’s right,’ Richard agreed and went on, ‘but to prepare them for their long walk, the farmers would drive them over alternate patches of wet tar and sand to give them
a sort of sole for their webbed feet.’

‘How clever. So that’s how the fair got its name?’

‘Something like that. And, of course, it’s very famous for cheese too, but there’s a livestock market and a horse fair. They come from miles away. Some of the horses are wild
and unbroken. And there’s every kind of thing you can think of on sale.’ He glanced down at her. ‘I hope you’ve brought your purse.’

Bridie shook her head and grinned. ‘It wasn’t worth bringing, Uncle Richard. There’s not much in it.’

‘Don’t tell me your aunt isn’t paying you much?’ he said, pretending to be scandalized.

Bridie laughed. ‘I get what the other workers of my age get, but before I came here I didn’t get much from Gran. I had to work for me keep, she said.’

‘Did she indeed?’ she heard Richard murmur, but then her attention was taken by the scene unfolding before her eyes.

They were nearing Market Place and already they could hear the sound of music from fairground organs. All around them, people seemed to quicken their pace, eager to be caught up in the
excitement.

Forgetting, for a brief moment, her intention to be more grown-up and ladylike, Bridie gave a little skip and pulled on Richard’s arm. ‘Come on,’ she urged. Together they were
caught up in the flow of humanity moving towards the fun.

Bridie could not remember ever in her life enjoying herself quite so much. For a few hours they both forgot about the war. All around them, it seemed as if everyone was determined to do the
same. Laughter and chatter filled the air, squeals of delicious fear from girls on the roundabouts and swings and the raucous shouts from young men who, already, had imbibed a little too
freely.

‘Now, what do you want to see next?’ Richard asked.

‘Everything!’ Bridie flung her arms wide as if trying to embrace it all.

Richard smiled indulgently. ‘Right then. We’ll start with the menagerie. I know how you love animals.’

They made their way to the area always reserved for the largest menagerie. There were rows of large wagons. One side of each wagon was enclosed with iron bars, over which shutters were fastened
when travelling. Now they were open for the public to view the animals. Lions and tigers, sea lions and seals and a very clever chimpanzee that kept the crowd enthralled with his antics.

On a patch of grass an elephant and two camels were giving rides to small children, but Bridie shook her head when Richard offered to pay for her. ‘No, I’d sooner watch.’ But
when a man invited her to nurse a tiny, baby monkey, Bridie held out her hands eagerly. The little creature clung to her and when she tried to give it back it grabbed at the ribbons on her hat,
threatening to pull it from her head. Laughing, she gently disentangled herself.

‘You’m got a way with ’im, missy,’ the man said. ‘Like to keep ’im, would you?’

‘I’d love to,’ she said, ‘but it’s not possible. Besides . . .’ She looked at the man shrewdly. ‘Isn’t he too young to leave his
mother?’

‘Ain’t got no muvver,’ the man said. ‘Reared by hand, this little ’un.’

‘Well,’ Bridie said firmly, handing back the baby monkey. ‘I think he needs a little more rearing before you sell him.’

They had not moved more than a few paces before Bridie saw the man offering the tiny creature to another couple with a young boy.

Bridie turned and, dodging through the throng, hurried back towards the man, ignoring Richard’s warning. ‘Bridie, leave it, love . . .’

‘You can’t sell him yet.’ Bridie faced the man hotly. ‘He’s too young. It’s cruel.’

‘Now look ’ere, miss . . .’ The man’s weather-beaten face was suddenly fearsome. ‘Don’t meddle in matters you know nowt about.’

‘But I do know. I live on a farm. I know when an animal is big enough to be weaned.’

‘Clever little bugger, ain’t yer?’ the man sneered.

‘That’s enough.’ Richard’s quiet but authoritative voice spoke behind her. ‘The girl’s right. You shouldn’t be trying to sell it yet.’

‘He’s older ’n he looks. Small breed, they are.’ The man was trying to bluster his way out of trouble now.

‘I’ll pay you not to sell him . . .’ Bridie began, but Richard touched her arm and bent to whisper in her ear. ‘It wouldn’t do any good, love. He’d only sell
him again once our backs are turned.’

Looking at the rough clothes and the greedy eyes of the owner, Bridie could believe it.

‘Can I have him, Dad?’ The young boy beside them now had the monkey on his shoulder and was stroking it gently, the monkey clutching his finger, its bright, beady eyes round and
large in its tiny face.

‘Well, I don’t know, son. What do you reckon, Martha?’ The man turned to his wife, who, much to Bridie’s surprised relief, smiled. ‘If the man tells us how to look
after him. Like this lass ’ere ses, he does look ever so little.’ She turned to Bridie, ‘But we’d look after him. I can promise you that. I had a monkey when I was a bairn,
so I know a bit about them.’

Bridie smiled and nodded, but would not leave until she had witnessed the transaction taking place and the monkey borne away by the delighted boy.

Richard put his arm about her shoulders. ‘Come, I think I’d better get you away from these animals before you want to buy them all.’ But he was laughing as he said it.

Bridie slipped her hand through his arm again. ‘Sorry, Uncle Richard. I know I get carried away when I think an animal’s not being treated properly.’

Richard squeezed her hand to his side. ‘Don’t apologize, Bridie love. If there were more people with your caring ways, the world would be a better place.’

His words brought a flush to her cheeks and a warm glow to her heart.

‘Now,’ Richard went on. ‘First of all, I’ll buy you a toffee apple. I used to love those when I was your age.’

To Bridie’s amazement, Richard bought two and they walked around, licking and biting the toffee until they came to the tang of the apple beneath the sweet coating.

‘You look so funny,’ she laughed. ‘Eating a toffee apple dressed in your posh clothes.’

Richard grinned down at her. ‘Today, Bridie, I don’t care. My mother’s not here to scold.’

Bridie smiled impishly. ‘Nor’s my gran.’

‘Come on . . .’ He grabbed her hand and almost pulled her along in his eagerness. ‘Let’s go on the gallopers.’

They rode side by side on the brightly painted horses. Up and down and round and round until Bridie felt dizzy. But she loved it, laughing out loud as she held onto her hat.

‘Now we’ll go on the gondolas,’ Richard said as they climbed down unsteadily from the roundabout. ‘You’ll think you’re in Venice.’

After that, they stood for a moment, looking about them. They heard the raucous shouts of a showman outside a boxing booth.

‘I think we’ll give that a miss, if you don’t mind, Bridie. I don’t particularly want to see two men fighting. Not today.’

Bridie shuddered inwardly, understanding at once. Very soon Richard would be fighting in earnest. This day was for enjoyment, for revisiting childhood. Today he didn’t want to be reminded
of the battles to come.

Instead, Richard tried to win a coconut for her but, despite three attempts, he could not knock one from its stand. ‘I never was very good at it,’ he apologized. ‘It seems
I’m still not.’

‘Never mind, Uncle Richard.’ Bridie tucked her hand in his arm and led him towards the ornate frontage of the bioscope with its gold-painted pillars and archways. ‘Can we go in
here? I’ve never seen moving pictures.’

They stepped into the darkness of the huge tent and took their places in the rows of seating facing the white screen. When the show began there were gasps of surprise from the audience. Bridie
was enthralled by the flickering images, her gaze fixed on the screen, but she was aware that from time to time Richard glanced at her as if he was enjoying watching her pleasure as much as the
show itself.

At the end, they emerged from the darkness and blinked as they looked about them. The light was already fading as the day drew towards night. Market Place was still busy, but now the majority of
the people were youngsters, out to enjoy the evening. Young men waved tickling sticks, targeting the pretty girls. Bolder ones stole kisses, vying with their friends to be the one to kiss the most
girls. And the girls, giggling together, threw confetti at each other and then at the boys to capture their attention.

Bridie watched them, wishing she were older and able to join in the fun.

‘I think it’s time we went home,’ Richard said, though she could hear the reluctance in his tone too. ‘Your aunt will be waiting dinner for us.’

Only one incident marred a perfect day.

As they were leaving, a woman was walking amongst the crowd handing out white feathers to any young man not dressed in uniform.

She approached Richard and, standing before him, her glance raked him up and down. Her lip curled disdainfully and she held out a white feather. ‘You may be a little older than some of
them here.’ She spoke in modulated tones and Bridie noticed she was well dressed. ‘But you’re young enough.’

Richard’s only answer was to raise his hat politely and give a little bow. Then he turned and walked away, leaving the woman staring after him, the feather still in her gloved hand. Bridie
scurried to catch up with him.

‘What was all that about? What is she doing handing out feathers?’

‘A white feather, Bridie,’ Richard said tightly, ‘is a symbol presented to a man deemed a coward. She is suggesting that any man who has not taken the King’s shilling is
such a person.’

He was walking so quickly now, marching along angrily, that Bridie had to run to keep up with him. ‘I don’t understand. How can she possibly think . . .?’

Richard stopped abruptly and turned to face her. ‘It wouldn’t have happened if I’d been in uniform. Women like her are taking it upon themselves to present white feathers to
anyone they think is young enough to volunteer.’

‘But you have.’

‘She doesn’t know that.’

‘Then I’ll make sure she does,’ Bridie said promptly and turned at once to hurry back to the woman.

Richard caught her arm, the anger gone from his tone now. ‘No, leave it, love. It doesn’t matter.’

‘Of course it matters,’ Bridie retorted hotly. ‘I won’t have anyone thinking you a coward, Uncle Richard, because you’re not.’

‘Oh, my lovely Bridie.’ He laughed. ‘I think I should take you with me to the Front. You’d have the enemy routed in no time.’ Then, more seriously, he said,
‘No, leave it, my dear. It really doesn’t matter. She’s not important. And one more thing, Bridie.’ She looked up at him.

‘Please, don’t tell anyone else about this. Promise.’ ‘All right then, but I wish you’d let me set her right.’ Bridie cast a frown back through the crowd to
where she could still see the woman handing out the insulting feathers, then, reluctantly, she followed her uncle.

‘Darling, I’m so sorry I couldn’t get away to come with you today,’ Eveleen apologized as the three of them sat down to a late dinner. She had not
arrived home until gone seven that evening.

‘It’s quite all right,’ Richard said tersely, but his tone told her that it was anything but all right. ‘What was so important to keep you at work until this
time?’

Briefly Eveleen explained about her problems with Bob Porter. ‘And I’m worried about your father. I know he’s not old, but suddenly he seems very weary.’

Richard glanced at her in concern, his earlier chagrin forgotten. ‘Is he ill? Ought he to see a doctor?’

‘I don’t know. Surely your mother would persuade him to do that.’

Richard glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. Drily he said, ‘I doubt my mother would notice anything was wrong unless he collapsed in front of her and interrupted one of her
social gatherings.’

Eveleen gasped. ‘Richard! That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you criticize your mother.’

Richard shrugged and then his tone softened. ‘I’ve always admired my mother. I still do. There have been certain things in my father’s life before he met her, as you well know,
that she has been very understanding about. I thought, at the time, that understanding came from a loving nature. But since I’ve known you . . .’ His disappointment forgotten for a
moment, Richard’s eyes caressed her, his glance roaming over her face as if he would commit her every feature to a memory that he could carry with him always. ‘Since I’ve known
you, known your warmth, your concern for others . . .’ His smile became a little wry. ‘Even when they don’t really deserve it. I’ve begun to wonder if my mother really
cares
about anyone except herself and her place in the eyes of her fancy friends.’