Soon they were going through the funfair’s turnstiles and inside, where Tommy urged her towards the big wheel.
‘Let’s go on this before it’s replaced by the new one,’ he urged, saying something then to the man operating that Amy failed to hear. Moments later the wheel stopped and they climbed on, sitting side by side, with a bar put across the rocking seat which Amy thought nervously was to prevent them from falling out.
As the wheel began to turn, soon reaching the top, Tommy held her hand and Amy was enchanted by the views of the funfair stretched out below them. On the descent, Amy’s stomach did a little flip, but around they went and up to the pinnacle again. The wheel came to a stop then, Amy finding it a little frightening to be suspended so high up, and when the seat they were in swung, she was unable to stifle a little yelp.
‘Don’t worry, you’re safe,’ Tommy said, placing an arm around her.
‘I’m all right,’ she said, laying her head on his shoulder. ‘It’s wonderful up here, Tommy. It feels like the two of us are alone on the top of the world.’
‘See those stars, Amy,’ he said, pointing up to the sky. ‘I can’t bring one down to slip on your finger, but I can give you this instead. Will … will you marry me?’
Amy could barely see the box that Tommy had flipped open with one hand, but even if it had contained a plastic ring her answer would have been the same. ‘Oh, yes, Tommy. Yes please,’ she said, flinging herself into his arms.
The seat rocked, but this time Amy didn’t scream and Tommy’s lips met hers.
‘I love you, Amy,’ he husked.
‘And I love you,’ she said as they began to move on a downward descent again.
They drew apart and Tommy smiled ruefully. ‘I asked the chap who operates the wheel to stop it for a minute or two when we were at the top, but I didn’t expect it to scare you.’
‘I was only nervous for a moment. It was a wonderful place to propose, so romantic, magical, and something I’ll never forget,’ Amy said and meant it. She was eighteen, engaged to be married, and for Amy at that moment, everything was just perfect.
By the last week in August Carol was near the end of her tether. Almost everything of value had been pawned, but her dad spent most of the money on booze. With no sign of him ever getting a job she had gone back to work, and had just arrived home from the paint factory on Friday to find her dad eagerly waiting. It was payday and she knew what he wanted – but he’d have a long wait if he thought she was going to just pass over her wages again.
‘Come on, Carol,’ he urged, ‘give me your pay-packet.’
‘No, Dad,’ she argued.
‘Do as you’re told,’ he snarled in her face.
She reeled back from the stench of his breath and unwashed body, finding the father she had known almost unrecognisable. He was a hopeless drunk now, and though she felt partly to blame, Carol knew that with rent to pay and food to buy, she had to hang on to her wages. ‘Dad,’ she said, hoping appeasement would work as she opened her handbag to pull out a ten bob note, ‘here, take this.’
With hands shaking in his need for alcohol, he snatched it from her, and as though unable to wait a moment longer to get to the pub, hurried out.
Carol’s shoulders slumped with relief, yet she knew that as soon as the money was spent her father would be back for more. Her stomach rumbled, and going through to the scullery she looked for something to eat, finding just a couple of slices of bread and a small piece of cheese, enough to make a sandwich. It would have to suffice, but Carol was determined to go shopping in the morning, to get more food in while her dad would still be in bed sleeping the booze off.
With no television to watch now, by seven thirty Carol was bored. There was housework to do, but after being at work all day she wasn’t in the mood, and anyway, Carol decided, she had the weekend to tackle it.
When there was a knock on the door she was actually pleased to see Amy and let her in with a smile. ‘Hello, aren’t you seeing Tommy?’
‘No, he’s swamped with work and as we’re both taking the day off tomorrow to go to Rose’s wedding, he’ll be working late tonight.’
Carol had once thought that Amy’s life was boring, but now, compared to her own it seemed interesting. ‘What will you be wearing?’
‘A yellow dress and jacket,’ Amy said.
‘Is the dress plain or patterned?’
‘It’s got a pattern of small, white flowers, but the jacket is plain. With so few people going to the wedding there won’t be a bit of a do afterwards, but we’re going for a meal in a restaurant.’
Carol felt a stab of envy. Amy had got engaged to be married last month, her life moving forward, while Carol knew that hers had stagnated. It was as though since the loss of her baby, she’d given up on life too, but now for the first time Carol felt a longing to live again. Even the quiet wedding sounded better to Carol than being stuck at home every weekend, but at least the evening passed quickly as they continued to chat. They spoke more about Rose and her marriage, Carol musing, ‘I suppose Rose is living in clover now.’
‘We haven’t seen Mr Jacobs’ house yet,’ Amy said, ‘but when Rose comes to see us she always turns up in a taxi. She wears lovely clothes now too, sort of classy.’
‘I bet that makes the curtains twitch, though the gossips are probably green with envy.’
‘I don’t envy Rose,’ Amy said. ‘He may be rich, but I couldn’t marry an old man like Mr Jacobs.’
‘I’m not sure I could either, but good luck to Rose. When he kicks the bucket she’ll inherit the lot.’
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Amy said, then changing the subject, ‘I know you didn’t like working in the paint factory at first. Is it any better now?’
‘Some of the women are a laugh so that helps, and at least I don’t have to work Saturdays.’
‘Talking of Saturdays, I’d best be off. We’ll all have to be up early in the morning to get ready for the wedding.’
‘Have a nice time,’ Carol said, sighing when Amy left. There’d be no nice time for her tomorrow, she’d be spending the day doing housework. For now though, not wanting to be up to see her father rolling home drunk, Carol decided to go to bed.
An hour later, Carol was in the throes of a terrible nightmare and her eyes snapped open in the dark. Someone was on top of her, hands groping – but then she screamed in terror. This wasn’t a nightmare; she was awake, and desperately she fought to throw the man off whilst crying out, ‘Dad! Dad, help me!’
‘Shut up!’
Her mind reeling, Carol froze for a moment, unable to believe it, yet the voice was his, along with the stench. ‘No! No, Dad! It’s me, Carol!’ she cried frantically.
