All the Fun of the Fair Page 4

  Sharada didn’t mind this, was even sometimes envious of the simplified view of life held by her brother. Besides that, Kuldeep inadvertently provided an outlet for Sharada’s frustration with her physical self, her unpopularity, her perceived lack of a life. Kuldeep’s autism rendered him a stickler for facts and accuracy and he could not let a point pass uncorrected.

  ‘I wish I were dead!’ Sharada would sometimes say.

  ‘That’s not possible.’ Kuldeep would reply calmly. ‘If you should happen to die it would be because of an accident or an illness, not a wish.’

  ‘Everybody hates me, I’ve got no life!’ She would wail.

  ‘You are breathing and shouting and as such have a life. Also, since it is impossible to know everybody, everybody cannot hate you.’

  This would go on until Sharada felt better, had ranted out all her grievances. She enjoyed the release and valued her older brother for providing it, whether he understood or not, which was why she was so affected by the despicable, trampish behaviour of Tania Streatham.

  Sharada and Tania had been in the same year at school, before Tania left to do a college course. Sharada hadn’t liked her, all short skirts, tight shirts and plenty of make-up, but the boys loved her. They stared, hypnotised, when Tania bent over to pick up her bag from the floor and her skirt rode up, they ogled like builders when she wore a black push-up bra beneath her white blouse and left the top three buttons undone and they all, with little exception, branded Tania a slut and a slag.

  The thing was, much as she disapproved of Tania’s reputation and solicitous behaviour, Sharada was consumed with envy and jealousy of Tania’s confidence and beauty, both of which were entirely alien to the awkward, shy, unpopular Sharada whose cumbersome breasts seemed to hang lifelessly in front of her and whose make-up collection consisted of two Boots Number Seven lip colours and a Good Earth eye shadow trio.

  Kuldeep’s announcement that he was seeing Tania had failed to prompt any exultant displays from Sharada, although she’d been surprised at such an unlikely coupling as Kuldeep was obsessively selective whom he even spoke to, and had never been romantically involved with anyone. Sharada was also well aware that Kuldeep was a long way off being the type of boy Tania typically attached herself to and had been further perturbed a few weeks later when her naïve brother had proclaimed he loved Tania, but last night had been the final straw and action needed to be taken.

  Sharada had deceived her father, who had already been warned by the police that his son was lucky not to be facing charges of breaking and entering and harassment, thanks to the sympathetic and magnanimous nature of Miss Streatham who had pleaded with her father not to press the matter further, and gone to the park where Tania worked.

  The gates were locked and her restrictive dark green school blazer and knee length pleated skirt would not permit Sharada to climb over with any dignity so she was forced to loiter behind a hedge until the Park Keeper unlocked them. Then, she charged past him and ran in the direction of the ice cream van to confront Tania.

  * * * *

  Tania Streatham, although only in her mid teens, had, in some ways - predominantly the ways of men and how to manipulate their apparently feeble one track minds - a very mature head on her shoulders. Not that she was a cold, calculating little madam, not at all; Tania had simply grown weary of boys and their bravado, adolescents who invariably lacked substance and so she had turned to Kuldeep who, beyond any doubt, had stimulated her mentally but at the expense of any real physical attention.

  It had crossed Tania’s mind on several occasions throughout her brief relationship with Kuldeep that she was too fussy, that she expected too much. She’d desired more substance and Kuldeep certainly possessed that. He was clearly intelligent, interested in her thoughts and her mind, treated her with nothing but the utmost respect. The problem was that Tania found herself wishing, just once, that Kuldeep might lose his temper with her, show some passion, ravish her without restraint.

  Tania made the effort to understand Kuldeep’s condition, had done some reading on the subject of Autism Spectrum Disorder and certainly did not share the view of many at school who saw anybody different as strange or as a target for bullying. But despite Kuldeep being a high functioning autistic, his literal understanding of the world and obsessive need for routine meant he was a model of control. Her attention began to wander away from free Indian meals and being treated well, towards someone more rough and ready, someone with an ample supply of cash, her boss, Lee ‘The Letch’ Etchman.

  One of the conditions imposed by Tania’s parents of her being allowed to leave school – of which she’d grown disenchanted – and go to college - which in Tania’s view was far more sophisticated - was that she earn some money to pay her own way and substantiate her declaration that she was mature enough to support herself. On her first visit to the Job Centre she found the job in the ice-cream van – or Seasonal Chilled Confectionary Assistant as it was advertised. It was within walking distance of home, the park was nearly always deserted and Tania was, essentially, left to her own devices, which meant she was able to help herself to ice cream when she fancied it, have the radio blaring all day and browse magazines for the latest celebrity gossip and dietary fads.

  It had, however, become abruptly obvious that her boss, Mr Etchman, fortyish with a slight beer belly and a penchant for unyielding jeans and constrictive shirts which he wore with the top few buttons undone to expose the gold chain that adorned his thick red neck, had something of a roving eye. He began to spend increasing time with Tania in the van, initially affecting the duplicity of observing her work and training her up when in reality he was becoming obsessed. Tania couldn’t help but provoke and vex the pitiable sod, brushing against him every time she reached for the change box, inviting him to smell her new perfume and flirting to farcical levels until, finally, about three weeks earlier, she’d decided to try her luck.

  ‘Mr Etchman?’ She had asked feigning abasement.

  ‘Please, Tania, it’s Lee. What is it?’

  ‘Well, I know I shouldn’t ask, but I couldn’t possibly… I mean. Oh, never mind.’ Then she had looked away.

  ‘No, go on, Tania darlin’, you can ask me anything.’

  ‘Well, the thing is, I was just wondering if there’s any chance I could have a sub on my wages this week, only I’ve seen some dead nice shoes in town and there’s this party Friday night and I’d love to have them to wear for then, only I don’t get paid until Monday which is too late and…’

  Etchman had held up his hand to quieten her and smiled to show he appreciated exactly what she was saying.

  ‘Of course, of course. I was always ‘avin’ subs when I was your age. Always a party to go to. Of course, you must have a sub.’

  ‘Nice one. You sure it’s okay?’

  ‘Certainly. On one condition.’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘That you let me see these wonderful shoes that you simply must ‘ave by Friday.’

  Tania found the request more than a little peculiar but agreed and watched covetously as Etchman pulled a wad of cash from his back pocket and peeled off some notes.

  ‘Fifty okay?’

  ‘Brilliant.’ Tania threw herself at Etchman and kissed him on the cheek, quite aware of the effect she was having. That was when he’d found the mettle, or could simply no longer resist the compulsion, to kiss her and, given the circumstances Tania let him and responded with gusto, quickly feeling his excitement pressing against her thigh.

  Now here she was, three weeks on and poor Mr. Etchman, her lustful employer, had slipped into his new role as supplicant with extraordinary ease. Tania had effectively doubled her weekly wages and received numerous gifts including a new watch which she loved and a necklace that she only wore to work because she didn’t particularly care for it. In return she was physically responsive and attentive.

  Tania had no desire to hurt or humiliate Kuldeep, her feelings for him were, as far as she was able to judge
, wholly different from anything she’d experienced before and entirely genuine. It was just that Etchman obviously fancied her and would provide her with the things Kuldeep could not, namely all the presents she demanded and all the physical attention she could stand.

  That is why, when Tania spotted Sharada stampeding towards the van, Mr Etchman had one hand inside her bra and was kneading her left breast with ardour while attempting to manoeuvre his other hand under her skirt and into her knickers, moaning appreciatively the whole time. Tania’s role in this act was merely to massage her hand over Etchman’s increasingly constricted trousers leaving her mind free to muse on other matters such as why one of her former classmates was galloping towards her and what on earth she might want when she arrived.

  ‘Lee,’ Tania said, removing her hand from his trousers.

  ‘Oh, Tania.’

  ‘Lee.’ She tried to remove one of his hands without success. ‘Mr Etchman!’ She insisted vehemently.

  ‘Yes, Tania love, what is it?’

  ‘Customer.’

  Etchman leapt up, thunderstruck, and banged his head on an overhanging shelf while Tania adjusted her clothes just as Sharada began walloping the glass window.

  ‘Open this window!’ Sharada challenged. ‘Come on, open it.’

  ‘Alright, don’t have an eppy!’ Tania shouted splenetically, sliding open the serving window. ‘What the hell d’ya want? Shouldn’t you be at school?’

  ‘We need to have words about my brother.’

  ‘We’ve split up, end of.’

  ‘He’s in the fucking hospital ‘cos of you.’

  ‘I didn’t push him off the ladder; I’m the innocent party in all this.’

  ‘Innocent! Half the lads in town have been through you, you’re like the gates at Alton Towers.’

  ‘Fuck off! You’re brother hasn’t. Frigid I reckon.’

  ‘It’s called having respect, not that you’d know anything about that, slag.’

  ‘Look, I’ve work to do, so if you’ve nothing left to say…’ Tania moved to shut the window.

  ‘I’ve got plenty to say, you dirty bitch. You leave my brother alone from now on; he doesn’t need a skank like you.’

  Tania leaned out of the window. ‘I don’t want to be anywhere near your brother. He’s a boring bastard with fuck all money and he always reeks of fucking curry.’ She screamed captiously.

  ‘You fucking absolute bitch, slag, whore.’ Sharada shrieked, grabbing two fistfuls of Tania’s hair and endeavouring to drag her through the serving window head first. Tania yelled in pain while a stunned Mr Etchman seized Tania’s ankles to arrest her undignified departure from his van.

  * * * *

  Moments later a panting and somewhat bewildered Alfie appeared on the scene to discover Tania portraying the rope in a horrific pantomime tug of war. In between wails and howls of agony, Tania was managing to scoop up handfuls of ice cream, cones and flakes from the tubs and containers beneath her outstretched body and launch them in the general direction of her assailant.

  Old Mr Crowther and a couple of his bowling buddies had already found their way into the park for an early morning game and were gaping timorously at the spectacle unfolding in front of them, leaving Alfie no option but to get involved.

  ‘Hey, what’s going on here? This is a public park, we can’t have this.’

  Alfie advanced with authority and was immediately poleaxed by a lump of airborne ice cream. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he corralled the girl in the school uniform who seemed to be the instigator of the trouble and picked her up. Momentarily stupefied, Sharada yielded her grip on Tania’s hair, who cascaded into the van where she barrelled into Mr Etchman, still pertinaciously clutching her ankles.

  ‘Right, young lady,’ said Alfie. ‘I don’t know what’s going on here but I think you’d best come with me while I ring your parents.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’ Sharada scoffed, kicking violently at Alfie’s shins before stamping on his foot and fleeing.

  Exasperated and chagrined, Alfie gave chase, knowing he would never catch the girl, nor particularly wanting to – but merely to save face in front of the congregated old folk. The ringing in Alfie’s head from being struck by the gate felt like he had church bells between his ears so, once round the corner and out of eye sight, he gave up the pursuit. He waited until his breathing returned to something approaching normal and moseyed back into view like a prevalent sheriff, proclaiming the park safe once again.

  4 Sharada runs into her first Relationship

  While the rumpus was developing inside the park, outside Brandon Shine pulled up in his car. He took a handful of fliers from the glove compartment, a tub of paste and a brush from the boot, confirmed he was unobserved and moved with alacrity to the green box which housed all the circuits and wires for the street lamps. Once there he quickly pasted a couple of posters to it.

  Sighting a notice board beside the park gates Brandon decided it may be a favourable spot to adhere a poster. Casually, he ambled towards the sign, checking the street in both directions every few yards for onlookers, then brushed some paste over the usual adverts for a bowling competition, brass band and a sign asseverating that the paddling pool was closed until further notice owing to vandalism.

  He’d just finished smoothing over the first notice when he was knocked to the ground by a running girl daubed abundantly with ice cream.

  ‘Jesus, watch it.’ Brandon said indignantly, clambering to his feet and examining the shabby, crumpled notices still clutched in his hand.

  ‘Sorry, sorry,’ said the girl, dusting grit from her scuffed knees. ‘I’m having a nightmare morning and I’m late for school.’

  Sharada scrambled to her feet and looked at the second man she’d flattened that morning while entering and exiting the park, and was summarily discombobulated. The man before her was, even to her innocent eyes, unalluring. His teeth were crooked and small like two rows of fangs and Sharada’s initial thought was that the man would be well advised to do as she did and keep his mouth closed whenever possible. His hair, shoulder length, greasy and brown, flopped lankly over his eyes and was swept back intermittently with a free hand.

  ‘So, fell out with an ice cream van then?’ Brandon joked, the skin around his bag-supported eyes creasing slightly as he smiled.

  ‘Erm, yeah.’ Sharada smiled back awkwardly, as ever at a loss for words when in non-familiar male company.

  ‘You on the run from anything particular?’

  Sharada laughed, embarrassed. ‘No, erm, just you know, in a rush.’

  ‘Ah right.’ Brandon had a pasty, bilious complexion and several days stubble which, exacerbated by his skinny, drawn features gave him a destitute appearance. Sharada thought his clothes could probably stand washing too. ‘In that case can I give you a lift somewhere, school perhaps?’ Brandon then introduced himself.

  ‘Yeah right, jog on; you might be a nutter or something.’

  ‘Good point,’ Brandon laughed, Sharada didn’t get the chance. ‘I’m a member of this.’ He held out a flier. ‘Leader actually, we meet every Tuesday.’

  ‘Coalition Hindering Immoral and Murderous Politics.’ Sharada looked at Brandon, newly impressed. ‘What is it, some sort of club?’

  ‘Well, that’s not strictly accurate,’ he smiled, again displaying those awful teeth, although Sharada now thought the smile far more charismatic. ‘I like to think of it more as a political group, an activist movement.’

  ‘And you think CHIMP can make some sort of difference?’

  ‘Of course, otherwise what’s the point?’

  Sharada considered this for a moment. She’d read about politics and the various groups, their beliefs and motivations and was left feeling dubious about how much influence they really had, what actual changes they could affect. But now she was faced with a real life activist, promoting his cause single-handed.

  Sharada introduced herself and smiled with her mouth closed, trying to appear grown-up. ‘I’d
definitely consider a name change if I wanted to be taken seriously.’ She felt nervous and was unsure why.

  ‘Yeah I know, we used to be the Coalition Hindering Immoral Legislative Decisions but the police made us change it because we were attracting the wrong sort of folk.’ Sharada didn’t say anything and Brandon smiled, this time with his mouth closed too. ‘So have you any interest in politics, any beliefs?’

  ‘Erm, never really thought about it.’ She replied.

  ‘Could say you’re open to the idea then?’

  Sharada laughed and then clamped her mouth shut self-consciously.

  ‘Tell you what, why don’t you come to a meeting, I could give you a call.’

  ‘Um, yeah, okay.’ She took a step back, feeling out of her depth.

  ‘You got a pen?’

  ‘Yes! Hang on, in my bag.’ She rummaged around and finally found a well-chewed Biro. Brandon held out his hand, Sharada blushed and held his hand to steady her own while she wrote.

  ‘So then, can I give you a lift or not?’ Brandon offered again, gesturing to his car, an old royal blue Vauxhall Viva with a variety of stickers for organisations such as Greenpeace and CND on the windows.

  ‘Okay,’ Sharada agreed, stipulating ‘To my house and I’m sitting in the back just in case.’

  Brandon smirked and led the bedraggled girl to his car.

  By the following Tuesday afternoon, as she walked home from school, Sharada had convinced herself there was no chance she would hear from Brandon again and, while this disappointed her, a large part of her was relieved because the idea of going out with a boy, of participating in anything that even vaguely resembled a date, filled her with the utmost dread. Just then her mobile phone began to ring.

  ‘Hi, I was wondering if you were still up for coming to a meeting tonight.’ Brandon sounded cool, collected and assured while Sharada was almost panting for breath and perspiring openly.