So Long At the Fair

by Jess Foley

  ‘Abbie, you say this because – because of what’s happened. Your feelings of loss, of grief.’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I’m stating facts. Louis and me – I don’t know what’s to become of us now.’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe that.’ He paused. ‘Don’t turn away from him.’

  Her fingers worked agitatedly in her lap. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but I – I don’t feel comfortable with this conversation . . .’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he said, ‘I should mind my own business. Forgive me. I only want the two of you to find some happiness together.’

  She nodded. ‘I know you mean well. But it’s too late for us now. It’s just – too late.’

  As he withdrew his hand there came the sound of footsteps on the gravel path. Turning, Abbie saw Louis coming towards them from the house. Mr Randolph got to his feet. As Louis drew near, his father said to him, ‘I’m afraid I couldn’t persuade Abbie to stay.’

  ‘I’m very sorry,’ Abbie said. Turning to Louis she added, ‘Louis, the time’s getting on. We should think about getting down to the pier soon, don’t you think? Alfred’s steamboat is due there at six o’clock.’

  He looked at his watch. ‘We’ve plenty of time. The boat probably hasn’t even reached Sheerness yet.’

  ‘Even so . . .’

  ‘Anyway, do we have to go back on the steamer? We could stay on here a little longer and catch the train – and be in London no later.’

  ‘But Iris and Alfred are on board the boat, and you know I said we’d try to see them.’

  ‘Try is the word,’ said Louis. ‘Among all those hundreds of other people well be lucky to find them.’

  Sensitive to the friction, Louis’s father started away. ‘If you’re going on the steamer you might like to take some refreshment with you,’ he said. ‘I’ll get Mrs Willett to make you some sandwiches.’

  Abbie thanked him but said it was not necessary. He would have nothing of her protests, however, and went away to talk to the housekeeper. When he had gone Abbie got to her feet. ‘I think we should get going.’

  ‘Why are you so restless?’ Louis said.

  ‘Look – if you want to stay then do so. You must do as– you please.’

  ‘I would like to stay a little longer. After all, it’s rarely I get to see my father.’ He gave a weary shrug. ‘Though perhaps it’s as well we leave. It can’t be that much fun for him having us here when we’re barely on speaking terms with one another.’ He eyed her, studying her. ‘You’re so restless – and even more uncommunicative than usual. God knows it’s been hard enough to get three words together out of you since Oliver’s death, but over the last few days you’ve been even more distant.’

  She did not answer.

  ‘What is it?’ he said. ‘What is it you want?’

  ‘Oh, Louis, what does it matter?’

  ‘Is that the way you feel – that nothing matters now?’

  ‘Please.’ She frowned, her lips set. ‘I don’t want to discuss it. This is neither the time nor the place.’ She started to move past him, but he reached out and took her wrist.

  ‘You can’t always avoid the issue,’ he said. ‘Tell me what it is.’ He let fall her hand. ‘You still blame me, don’t you? For Oliver’s death.’

  She turned away. ‘Oh – Louis . . .’

  ‘Tell me. I’m sure you do. You think that if I hadn’t bought him the toy soldier he’d be alive today.’ He nodded. ‘Yes. And do you think I haven’t told myself that same thing over and over?’

  She did not speak. He went on, ‘And shall we go on like this for the rest of our lives? It isn’t something I look forward to.’

  Still she was silent.

  ‘Abbie,’ he said, ‘there is no harsh thought or word you can think up that I haven’t already used about myself a thousand times. Do you think there’s been a day when I haven’t relived the events of that evening? When I haven’t wished that I had done things differently? When I haven’t reproached myself for my part in what happened?’

  ‘Oh, Louis.’ Briefly she closed her eyes in despair. ‘What are we doing? We shall end up destroying one another.’

  He was silent for a few seconds, then he said sadly, ‘I’ve come to realize that you’re probably right: we should never have married. I suppose I just have to face up to it, finally, that our marriage was a colossal mistake. I must have closed my eyes to the truth. Thinking that in time I could make you love me, I didn’t allow it to matter that you were marrying me for the wrong reasons. Perhaps if I’d given it all a little more thought I wouldn’t have been so eager to wed.’ He shook his head. ‘Though I was so besotted with you I doubt that anything would have stopped me.’

  Abbie avoided his gaze and said nothing.

  ‘It’s a great pity you didn’t marry your Mr Gilmore,’ he said. ‘I used to think I was the lucky one. After all, I was the one who got you. But I’ve come to realize I was not. Yes, you should have had Gilmore, Abbie, because I know now – at long last – that you’ll never be happy with me. You’ve made that abundantly clear.’ He gave a shrug. ‘Which means in a way that you’re doomed to a life of unhappiness, doesn’t it? Because you’re never going to get him. He’s got a wife already, so even if you were free it wouldn’t do you any good.’ He paused. ‘God – I wish you could have loved me with just half the feeling you have for him.’

  ‘Louis –’

  Disregarding her interruption he went on, ‘When I came to join you and Oliver at Weston-super-Mare I – I found a closeness with you that I had not thought possible. It didn’t last, of course, but for that brief time it –’

  ‘Please,’ she protested. ‘Please don’t go on.’

  He gave a bitter little smile. ‘Does it embarrass you now? Nevertheless, that time in Weston – it somehow reminded me of when we first met – what you were like then. You were –’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about that time,’ she said quickly. ‘That’s all in the past.’

  ‘Indeed it is. And I soon discovered that I didn’t marry the girl I met at the fair that day.’

  She looked at him sharply. ‘What are you talking about?’

  He eyed her critically. ‘You were different.’

  ‘Different? I was younger, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘No, there was a difference about you that had nothing to do with your age.’

  ‘That – that’s nonsense.’

  ‘It’s the truth. You’ve changed. I don’t know how or when exactly, but you have, nevertheless. After our marriage I got to thinking that perhaps it was something in you – in your head, in your heart – that was stopping you from loving me. I didn’t know what it was, but I felt there was something there. Something from your past perhaps, some unknown thing that just – just got in the way. And I thought that if I could find out what it was – that barrier – then I would tear it down.’ He raised hands clenched into fists, then let them uncurl and fall back to his sides. ‘No . . . I see now that it was Gilmore all the time. And I can’t fight that. I could fight him, but not what he means to you.’

  He fell silent, then spreading his hands before her he gave a sigh and said, ‘Which leaves us just where we were, doesn’t it?’

  She turned, gazing out beyond the end of the walled garden.

  ‘I’d like to know what you want, Abbie,’ he said, ‘out of this – this charade we call a marriage. If there is something, tell me. It would be good if something could be salvaged from it.’ He paused, then added, his voice sounding weary, ‘Because I tell you now that I am sick to death of it all.’

  She remained facing away from him, silent.

  ‘If you like,’ he went on after a few moments, ‘we can live apart. If you would like a divorce you can have that too. I’ll even give you legal reason for it if you want – to save your reputation.’

  She turned to him now and said, ‘It might not be quite as simple as that.’

  ‘Simple? Oh, you think such a
procedure is simple?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I mean –’ she took a breath ‘– well – I think I’m going to have a baby.’

  He took a step towards her, his face lighting up. ‘A baby. Oh, God, Abbie – then it’s true.’

  ‘True?’

  ‘I suspected it. I am a doctor, for God’s sake. I am familiar with some of the signs.’ He paused. ‘No matter the lengths you might go to in order to hide them from me.’

  ‘Yes – well . . . So – you asked me what’s been on my mind over the past days. And now you know.’

  The brief joy that had shone in his face had gone. He stared at her for a moment, as if trying to read her thoughts, then said, ‘Forgive me. For a second I was pleased – mistakenly took it as good news. Quite obviously, though, that’s not the way you feel about it.’

  Stung, she retorted, ‘They’re your words, Louis, not mine.’

  ‘Indeed they are. And close to the truth, I dare say.’ He paused, then added, ‘Why are you giving me this news now? Is it your way of offering me congratulations?’ His lip curled. ‘Or are you saving them for Gilmore?’

  She gasped, taking a step back, as if he had struck her. ‘God almighty,’ she said, ‘how can you be so cruel?’

  ‘Cruel?’ he said. ‘Cruel? This is you talking of being cruel?’ His smile was like ice. ‘If I can be cruel it’s because I’ve been well taught.’

  They stood facing one another for a second, then she stepped past him in the direction of the house. ‘I’m going to say goodbye to your father,’ she said, ‘and then I’m going down to the pier. You do whatever you want. I don’t care any more.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Louis left the house and caught up with Abbie as she walked towards the pier.

  ‘Abbie, why did you leave?’ he said as he drew level with her. ‘My father doesn’t know what the hell’s going on. Neither do I, come to that.’

  ‘I told you,’ she answered without breaking her stride, ‘I want to catch the steamer. I intend to see Iris and Alfred, and go back to the hotel. Then I shall return home to Frome. What you do is up to you.’

  ‘Abbie, wait. I’m sorry I said that. Please – we have to talk.’

  ‘There’s nothing to talk about. You’ve said enough.’

  ‘But you’re way too early, anyway. I told you, the boat isn’t due for ages yet.’

  ‘Then I’ll wait for it.’ She kept going. ‘I really don’t care.’

  They walked on in silence towards the docks and on arrival saw that a number of people were standing on the pier.

  ‘They must be waiting to go downriver,’ Louis said.

  Abbie didn’t answer, but walked out onto the pier. Louis followed and, coming to a stop at her side a little distance from the waiting crowd, looked out into the estuary. A steamer was coming downriver towards them. When he turned to Abbie she did not return his glance – though she could not fail to be aware of it. Her face was as if set in stone. Lips compressed, she stood gazing out over the water at the approaching steamer.

  Soon the pleasure boat was close enough to read the name painted on its bows. ‘It’s the Princess Alice,’ Abbie said, and with her words turned and moved to join the waiting people.

  ‘But it’s going the wrong way.’ Louis stepped along at her side. ‘It’s going down to Sheerness.’

  ‘It’s the Princess Alice. And it’ll turn at Sheerness and come back, am I right?’

  ‘Well, yes, but –’

  ‘Then that’s all that matters. Besides, it’ll give me a longer time to spend with Iris.’

  ‘But Abbie –’

  ‘I’m getting on the boat. You don’t have to come with me.’

  The huge, iron-built steamboat came steadily closer, twin plumes of smoke rising from her funnels in the fine, clear air, her paddles churning in their side boxes, their sound set against the band’s music as it drifted over the water. Slowly, smoothly, she came on until she was eventually lying beside the pier. When she was tied up and the gangplank was put down the little queue edged forward. Immediately behind Abbie and Louis came a loud-voiced mother and father and their five children, while in front was a boisterous, good-natured group of three young couples aged about twenty. Two of the young women – though not dressed alike; one was all in blue, the other in red tartan – were obviously twins.

  Along with the others wanting to board, Abbie and Louis were forced to wait for a while to allow a number of passengers to disembark, and then they were moving forward again. Seconds later they had reached the ticket seller and there was no more time for debate; Louis was buying their tickets and moments after that the two of them were stepping up onto the gangplank and then onto the deck.

  Recalling the seething throngs that she had experienced on some previous trips on the Thames steamers, Abbie was relieved to find that the boat appeared to be relatively uncrowded. As they crossed the lower deck she gestured up towards the source of the music. ‘The band’s on the upper deck,’ she said, ‘that’s where I’ll find Iris.’

  Climbing a companionway, they stepped out onto the upper deck, and looking towards the sound of the music saw the seven-piece band raised up on a dais. Among them, playing his cornet, was Alfred, looking very smart in his blue bandsman’s uniform.

  ‘You go on and spend a little time with Iris,’ Louis said. ‘I’m sure you’ve still got plenty to talk about. I’ll join you later. I’ll probably go into the saloon and have a drink.’

  ‘As you like.’

  ‘Would you like me to bring you anything from the bar?’

  ‘No.’ She was so hurt she still found it difficult to look at him. ‘No, thank you.’ She turned and a moment later was stepping away from his side. He stood for a second watching her departure, then moved back to the companionway and started down.

  As she made her way across the deck the band was giving out a lively tune – ‘The Old Wooden Clock in the Hall’ – and a few people were joining in, singing along. There appeared to be many whole families on board. There were numbers of children too – some sitting with parents and siblings, while others ran shrieking and laughing about the deck, getting in the way of the pedestrians. For a great many there, she surmised, the day’s trip on the Thames would be the high point of the year. Also, many had no destination, but were there solely for the boat trip itself; they would not be disembarking at Sheerness, but would stay on board as it turned around and headed back upriver. As, indeed, so now would she and Louis.

  As she neared the crowd around the bandstand Alfred caught sight of her and widened his eyes in greeting. She smiled at him and gave a little wave with her fingers. He responded by turning his head slightly to his left and giving a brief little nod. Following the direction of his glance, she saw Iris sitting on a bench near the rail. Reaching her side a moment later, Abbie laughed at the look of surprise on her face.

  ‘What are you doing here so soon?’ Iris said. ‘We were expecting to see you on the way back.’

  ‘A change of plan,’ Abbie said. ‘We decided to get on the boat as it went downriver.’ She bent and gave Iris a hug. ‘For one thing it will give us longer together.’

  ‘Oh, indeed it will. It’s grand.’ Iris cast her eyes about her. ‘Where’s Louis?’

  ‘He’ll join us later. He said we should have a little time on our own. He’s gone to the saloon for a drink.’

  ‘Well, it’s just as well he gets it now. The boat will be quite crowded on the way back.’

  ‘Really? And I was just thinking how nice it was to have a little space – not to have all that seething mass of people around.’

  ‘Oh, they’ll be here, don’t worry.’

  ‘Well – nothing to be done about it.’

  ‘Here – let’s make room if we can,’ Iris said. She pressed up on the bench, smiling encouragingly at an old woman beside her. The woman, who was just finishing taking some snuff, put away her snuffbox and moved up slightly, enabling Abbie to sit down.

  Abbie thanked
her, then turned back to Iris. ‘Well, little sister,’ she said, ‘you’re looking very smart today – and very fashionable too.’

  Iris inclined her head in self-conscious acknowledgement of the compliment. She wore a blue dress with a large ribbon bow at her throat and a number of smaller bows running down the front of the bodice. Her hat was a small blue Tyrolean affair trimmed with ribbons. Looking at Abbie, she saw something in her expression and immediately showed her concern. ‘Abbie, are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine.’ As Abbie spoke she felt the boat give a shudder and begin to move. ‘We’re off,’ she said.

  The boat was gliding away from the pier, out into the deep water. Near Abbie’s back the paddle box thrummed and vibrated with the turning of the paddle, while higher up on the bridge she could see the captain standing at the wheel. As Abbie glanced at him Iris followed her eyes.

  ‘That’s Captain Grinstead,’ she said. ‘The crew say he’s so nice. I believe he has his wife and two little daughters on board with him today.’ She turned and looked through the rail at the swiftly receding bank. ‘It won’t be long now till we get to Sheerness.’

  ‘You must have done this trip a good many times, have you?’

  ‘Oh, yes, a good few – since Alfred joined the band. He likes it if I can be on board when he’s working. I do too, of course.’ Turning, she pointed back upriver at a steamboat that was heading for the pier just vacated by the Princess Alice. ‘That’s the Duke of Teck,’ she went on. ‘She’s timed to sail ten minutes after the Alice. Alfred’s played on board the Teck a few times as well.’

  The tune that the band was playing came to an end and Abbie saw that the musicians were putting away their instruments. ‘That’s not the end of the music, is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Just for a little while,’ Iris replied. ‘They’re dry and they need to wet their whistles. We can go with them if you like – down into one of the lower saloons.’

  ‘Well – I’d rather not.’

  ‘As you please. It’ll get very crowded down there anyway, before long.’

  Alfred joined them a few moments afterwards and he took Abbie’s hand and gave her a self-conscious peck on the cheek. ‘We didn’t expect you yet,’ he said. He enquired then after Louis, and Abbie replied that he was having a drink and would be joining them later.