by Diane Allen
‘I think we’d better get back. Have you two women finished saying what you’ve got to say to one another? You can catch up again next week. It isn’t as if we are a million miles away, and you seem to have settled, Meg, so Harry tells me.’ Tom looked at his wife, who didn’t want to leave Meg yet, but at the same time a worm of doubt was starting to creep into her mind about the wisdom of leaving a near stranger in their family home, alone and safe in the knowledge that they would not be returning for some time.
‘Yes, we’ve done. Meg tells me she’s enjoying life over here and that she’s well looked after. Don’t you, Meg?’ Agnes stood up and leaned over and kissed her daughter softly on her cheek. ‘Now, you behave yourself and earn your keep.’
Meg kissed her mum back and looked at her father as he put his flat cap back on his head.
‘We’ll be away, then. Behave yourselves, the pair of you, until next week.’ Tom patted his friend on the back, but made no move to say goodbye to Meg.
‘Aye, and don’t worry: she’ll take no hurt while I’m looking after her.’ Harry stood in the shop’s doorway next to Meg, as her father and mother climbed up into the cart for the journey home.
Meg also stood in the doorway, watching them head down the winding street of Gunnerside until they were out of sight. Then she turned into the sanctuary of the shop, where she sobbed into her handkerchief.
‘Aye, lass, what’s up? Did you want to go home with them?’ Harry asked gently.
‘No, I wanted to go to the Bartle Fair in Reeth, and now I’m not allowed to. I’m sick of being treated like a child. Some women are married and have families at my age,’ Meg wailed.
‘Is that what all this is about? Well, that’s soon remedied. I might have promised your mother and father that you wouldn’t go, especially on your own. But I said nowt about you coming with me, or with the other lads and lasses out of the village. There will be cartloads of them going, and they all look after one another. Your father and mother have never been; they’ve only heard the bad news that comes out of it all. Now, your mother’s brought you a change of clothes. You put on your Sunday best and get yourself off to the fair next weekend, either with me or with a cartload out of the village. What the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve about. And as long as you promise to behave yourself, I’ll not let on you’ve ever been near it.’ Harry grinned.
Meg raised her head and smiled. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ve never been to the Bartle Fair before and I really wanted to go.’ She couldn’t believe her ears.
‘Aye, well, we all have our secrets. You look after me, and I’ll look after you. That’s the way to do it, Megan Oversby. But don’t you be doing anything you would be ashamed of your mother and father finding out about, then we will be alright.’ Harry ran his fingers through his greying hair. ‘Right, you look after the shop. I’m away for my walk, now they’ve gone. I’ll be back in time for supper.’
Meg couldn’t stop grinning. She was going to the Bartle Fair, and no one was going to stop her. She’d tell Sam when she met him for a brief moment together that night. He’d be sure to be pleased.
13
Meg was taken aback by Sam’s attitude when she told him she was going to attend the Bartle Fair.
‘What do you want to go to that for? Your parents were right – it’s no place for you,’ he said in a surly voice.
‘I thought you’d be pleased that I was going. That I could be on your arm for most of the day.’ Meg smiled and pecked him on the cheek as they both sat on the gravel at the side of the river, in their agreed meeting place.
‘It’s a day for us miners to get drunk and enjoy ourselves. Your parents are right when they say there’s fighting and the like. There’s many a dispute on the green in Reeth settled on fair-day.’ Sam sighed and threw a pebble into the swirling waters of the river.
‘Well, I’ll not go then. But I wanted to have a look round the stalls. I know all the traders come from miles around, and it would make a change to be able to buy myself some new ribbons and hankies.’ Meg bowed her head and felt like arguing with Sam, but she valued his friendship too much.
‘If you must go, I’ll tell Peggy Dobson that you are to join us. She’ll look after you, when I can’t. That way, we can both do what we want, without being in one another’s pockets. You’ll need a friend if you are to stay over here, and Peggy is a grand lass; she’ll see you right. She’ll enjoy having your company going round the stalls, and she’s sweet on our Jack, so she’ll be all too happy to make up a foursome with us.’
Sam’s mood lifted slightly as he thought of Meg being taken under Peggy’s wing as well as his own. He didn’t want to be tied to Meg’s apron strings all day. He’d set his head on having a gill or two too many, and even taking a chance on thumping the boxer who usually appeared with a promoter from down south. The pot that was being boasted about was worth getting a bashing for – five guineas – and would set him up well for the coming year. Plus there was another reason for him not wanting Meg to go, for he was frightened she would meet one, if not several, of his conquests, all of whom he’d abandoned once he’d had his way with them.
‘Peggy Dobson? I don’t think I’ve met her.’ Meg looked in surprise at Sam.
‘No, you won’t have. She works at Scar House for Reverend Gilpin, over in Arkengarthdale.’ Sam stood up and held out his hand for Meg to grasp. ‘Come on, get your arse up. It’s nearly dusk, and your uncle will begin to worry about you. Besides, these midges are bloody well biting me.’ Sam pulled Meg to her feet, then went on to swat a couple of midges that were taking bites out of him.
‘You must be bad meat – they aren’t bothering me.’ Meg tidied down her skirts.
‘Aye, that’s me, bad meat. That’s what my mother would say about me.’ Sam smiled.
‘I don’t think so. She worships the ground you walk on. She’s always saying “my Sam” and “my Jack” when she comes into the shop. You are both all she thinks about.’
‘My mother talks to you about me?’ Sam looked surprised.
‘Yes, but don’t worry, she doesn’t know about our meetings. She keeps telling me that you are her boys and that although you take the eye of many a lass, you will always be hers first.’ Meg smirked and held Sam’s hand tightly.
‘Aye, she’d say that alright. She’d keep the both of us at home forever, if she had her way.’ Sam released Meg’s hand as they climbed up the river bank onto the road. ‘There’s usually a cartload of us going from out of Gunnerside on Saturday. Do you want us to pick you up, or will you be walking in with old Harry?’ Sam asked as they walked side by side in the twilight.
‘You can pick me up, if you like. Uncle Harry will be relieved that he’s on his own and that I won’t be a party to meeting his lover, if I was to walk into Reeth with him. Besides, it’ll be nice to mix with some people of my own age, and I’ll look forward to meeting Peggy. I’m sure we will get on fine. She can tell me all about you both – all your dirty little secrets that you will never ever tell me.’ Meg giggled.
‘What do you mean? I haven’t any secrets. Besides, don’t go poking your nose into my business, because there’s nowt to find out.’ Sam looked darkly at her. ‘We’ll pick you up about eleven, then. You’ll probably hear us coming, as we are all usually in good voice.’ Sam turned quickly and held Meg tightly and kissed her, before moving to leave her. ‘Behave yourself, and I’ll see you Saturday,’ he whispered, before turning on his heel and leaving her standing on the outskirts of the village.
Meg stood in the twilight and looked around her, as a blackbird made a noise in the nearby hedge, its warning call echoing around the village as candles and oil lamps were lit with the oncoming evening. Perhaps she should heed its noisy song. Sam Alderson had caught her heart, but he had secrets, she was sure of it, judging by what he had said when she joked about speaking to Peggy. No doubt, in time, she would find out what they were, but on Saturday she would enjoy herself.
‘Now, y
ou’ll behave yourself, won’t you? I can trust you?’ Harry looked at Meg, all dressed up in her Sunday finery. Her lilac dress and straw hat with violets and primroses around the brim made her look the perfect picture, and Harry thought to himself that if he’d have been thirty years younger, he’d have been proud to have her on his arm.
‘Yes, Uncle Harry. I promise at the first sign of trouble I’ll make my way home, and I’ll not let any lad touch me where he shouldn’t.’ Meg blushed; it wasn’t the sort of conversation she had envisaged with her uncle.
‘Aye, well, that’s all I can ask of you. My mind’s a bit more settled, now that I know you are going with Peggy Dobson. She’s a good lass and she’ll look after you.’ Harry went to the till and took a shilling out of it. ‘Here, have a good day on me. You’ve helped me a lot since you came, and you’ve never asked for a penny.’
‘No, I can’t take all that! Besides, my mum has already given me some spending money,’ Meg protested as Harry thrust the coin into her hand and she tried to give it back.
‘You can never have enough money, lass. If you don’t spend it, keep it. It’ll come in handy sometime. Now listen, I can hear the rowdy buggers coming. They do it every year, and every year they roll back into the village in various states of distress and no work gets done at the mines for a day or two, because of thumping headaches or cuts and bruises. And that’s just the women!’ Harry joked. ‘Now don’t let me down, but go and enjoy yourself.’ He opened the shop door as the sound of ‘Widecombe Fair’ being sung echoed round the small village, and a cart full of local lads and lasses pulled up for Meg to join them.
The big, heavy wooden cart pulled by two roan horses drew up, the tailgate was dropped and everyone squeezed up tightly together, to make room for another passenger.
‘Come on, come on, we haven’t time for farewells. There’s drinking to be done and stalls to look at. Pull up your skirts and climb in.’ A young man held his hand and arm out and helped Meg climb into the cart, then squeezed her in next to a blonde-haired lass, who smiled at Meg as she sat down next to her on the wooden planks that ran down either side of the cart.
The young man stood up and nearly fell backwards as the horse jolted the cart and it trundled on its way. ‘One, two, three, four.’ He conducted the cartload of young people in another chorus of ‘Widecombe Fair’, with the cart creaking and groaning as it crawled along the road:
Tom Pearce, Tom Pearce, lend me your grey mare.
All along, down along, out along lee.
For I want to go to Widecombe Fair
Wi’ Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney,
Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawke,
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all,
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.
And when shall I see again my grey mare?
All along, down along, out along lee.
By Friday soon or Saturday noon.
Meg caught her breath as the repeating chorus was sung and the young lass sitting next to her made herself known.
‘God, isn’t it noisy? And this is without a drop of drink within them. I’ll not be making my way back with this bunch, that’s for sure. I’m Peggy; you must be Meg. Sam said you were a bonny lass, and he’s right. He always has an eye for a looker.’ Peggy smiled at Meg and looked her up and down.
‘It’s good to meet you, Peggy.’ Meg looked at the young woman dressed in a plain blue dress with a straw bonnet in her hands, with forget-me-nots around the brim. ‘I hope you don’t mind me joining you today. I mean, if you want to be with Jack, that’s alright with me.’ Meg didn’t want Peggy to think that she would spoil her day. Besides, she wanted to spend most of her time with Sam, rather than with a lass she hardly knew.
‘Oh Lord, no! You leave the lads to it – they’ll not be fit to know by the end of the day. Especially the Alderson brothers; speaking of whom, here they are, the ugly mugs.’ The cart pulled up and Jack and Sam climbed in, both grinning as they hauled the cart’s tailgate down and perched on top of it, with their legs dangling over the edge.
‘Peggy, Meg, you’ve met one another then? Are you both alright?’ Sam looked round and winked at Meg, while Jack just smiled at both women as the cart jolted and another song started up.
‘Yes, we are going to become the best of friends – of that I’m sure – and look after one another today, as I bet you two will have plenty in mind as to what you will be doing.’ Peggy cheeked Sam and put her arm through Meg’s.
‘Nay, we’ll hang around with you for a while. But then there might be one or two things that might not interest you ladies, eh, Jack?’ Sam nudged his brother.
‘Aye, you won’t want to be with us both when we take on folk in the boxing ring. It’ll not be a pleasant sight when one of us two has burst our opponent’s lip, broken his nose and he’s flat-out begging for mercy from either me or Sam.’ Jack winked at his brother.
‘But we’ll take you both for a gin and a wander around the stalls,’ Sam said quickly, when Meg showed her displeasure at perhaps not seeing him as much as she had planned.
‘A gin – I’ve never drunk gin,’ Meg exclaimed for everyone to hear, which made the rest of the cart laugh out loud.
‘Well, you are the only one of us that hasn’t. A drop of gin is good for the spirits. It makes you forget your worries.’ Sam grinned.
‘“Mother’s ruin” it’s called, Meg. Don’t you listen to Sam. He’d love it if you got drunk on the stuff, it’s been many a poor girl’s downfall. We’ll stick to tea, or happen sarsaparilla, if there’s a stall selling that, Sam Alderson. So don’t you go leading this lass on with your wicked ways.’ Peggy shuffled her bum further back onto her seat and gripped Meg’s arm tighter, as the cart bounced and swayed with all its passengers along the rough road between Gunnerside and Reeth. The singing and laughing continued until they reached the slight hill that dropped down into the village of Reeth.
The village stood on a hillside, with the village green in the centre, surrounded by houses and public inns. It wasn’t as large as Hawes, but the views from it were spectacular, spreading out in front of the cartload of revellers.
‘Just look at all these folk!’ Peggy gasped.
Meg looked around her. They had passed many folk making their way on the road, but now, as they reached Reeth’s outlying cottages, the road was filled with eager fair-goers. ‘I can’t wait. This fair looks ten times larger than the one they hold at Hawes,’ she said excitedly.
‘Aye, and ten times rowdier. Look at that fella there – he can hardly stand up already, and it’s only eleven in the morning.’ Peggy gawped at the inebriated miner coming out of the Black Bull as he swayed unsteadily in front of the horse and cart.
‘Silly bugger nearly got run over,’ Sam shouted and then jumped down from the tailgate, along with Jack. ‘Come on, lasses, let’s be having you. We’ve not got all day and there’s a lot to see before supper time tonight.’ He held his hand out for Meg to take and then decided to lift her down instead, holding her tight round her waist and almost kissing her as he held her against him once she was out of the wagon.
‘Now then, you two, we’ll have none of that.’ Peggy giggled. ‘Not yet, anyway.’ She hooked her arm through Jack’s, once she was out of the wagon, and grinned at Meg.
If Jack was going to be courting Peggy, then she would latch on to Sam, Meg thought, whether he liked it or not. She was not going to play gooseberry all afternoon.
‘Now, what do we do first? There’s so much to see.’
Meg wished Peggy would shut up, as she wanted to be alone with Sam, but it seemed that Peggy thought they were a foursome, as they pushed their way through the crowds.
‘Look, look, there’s a dancing bear. And look, there’s also a monkey, it’s going round collecting money in its hat from the crowd. Look, Jack, isn’t it sweet? Just look at the little thing in its waistcoat.’ Peggy pulled on Jack’s arm, dragging him to the centre of the crowd that had gathered to watch the performing a
nimals.
‘Does she never shut up?’ Meg whispered to Sam and smiled as they followed in Jack and Peggy’s tracks.
‘No, she makes up for our Jack. He’s hardly said two words all day.’
‘That’s because he can’t fit any in,’ Meg whispered back. ‘Look at that monkey – it reminds me of someone quite close to me, so cheeky that you can’t help but like them.’ Meg smiled as the monkey chittered and ran from person to person with its cap, which was getting ever heavier from the money placed in it.
‘Are you likening me to a monkey, Meg Oversby?’ Sam pulled Meg towards him and gazed into her eyes.
‘If the cap fits,’ Meg laughed.
‘For that, you’ll have to pay with a kiss,’ Sam said as he held her close.
‘Not now, in front of everybody,’ Meg gasped, but it was too late. Sam quickly kissed her on the lips, with the squeals of Peggy’s disapproval ringing in her ears.
‘Now, you two, behave! Jack and I will not be so forward, will we, Jack? It gives a girl a bad name.’ Peggy looked at Jack and then gave a stern glance to Meg.
‘I might be, if I got the chance, but I can’t say I’ll be in luck today. Not if you’re making so much racket over a peck like that,’ Jack grunted.
‘It starts with a peck and then you men get carried away. I know that’s how a girl gets in bother.’ Peggy unfolded her arm out of Jack’s and stood by herself, watching the bear, which was tethered through the nose by a chain connected to a stake in the village green. Its owner was whipping the poor creature, as it stood up on its back legs and danced for people’s amusement.
‘Please let us move on. I can’t stand to see that poor creature being hurt. It should be the owner that’s getting whipped, for being so cruel.’ Meg averted her eyes and pulled on Sam’s arm, weaving their way through the crowds with Jack and Peggy following them.
