Behind the curtain

The lantern was still alight but it had been turned down low and
cast a murky light inside of the booth. All around figures and pieces
of scenery were hanging from hooks, ready for action. Esther picked up
the figure of Kitty and felt the sharpness of the puppet's edges. It
was cut from a tin sheet and jointed with rivets. She moved the rods
and made Kitty's limbs move a little. How easily the figure seemed to
come alive.
Suddenly, the lantern guttered and a cloud of pungent smoke filled the
booth. Esther turned to go out but couldn't find the curtain. Her head
began to feel heavy and filled with the sour smell of the smoke. She
scrabbled at the cloth walls of the booth that seemed to spin and
shift, growing larger and larger. From outside she could hear the
showman's wife playing a curious tune on her pipes to the slow pulsing
beat of the drum.
Esther felt trapped as if her limbs had been bound. She desperately
wanted to get out but couldn't move. Something seemed to be holding her
there. The sounds from outside grew fainter and she wondered if Tom and
the others were leaving her there.
Then the lantern must have flared up because all of a sudden the booth
was filled with light. As it grew brighter Esther remembered the
showman's remarks about the dangers of the old shows and wondered if
she was about to be engulfed in an inferno. But there were no flames;
just a glowing light that against which the hanging figures appeared to
dance and move. She wondered who could be operating them; bits of tin
can't move on their own. All this must be in my imagination, she
thought; a fancy brought on by the fumes from the lantern.
Then she heard a voice, so close that it's owner must be right behind
her. She recognised Billy Waters' cockney accent. The Gallanty Man must
be giving Tom another performance. But why did it seemed so close

Of the trades of England
A beggar's is the best
For when a man is weary
He sits him down to rest.

"Please take pity on a poor, weather-beaten tar."
Esther turned quickly and came face to face with an old man dressed in
a sailor's uniform.
"Who are you?"
"Billy Waters is my name. I served my country long and hard and all I
got for my pains was this wooden leg." As if to emphasise his grievance
her tapped the peg-leg twice on the cobbles.
"But how did you . . . I mean where did you come from," asked
Esther.
"Across the Seven Seas, my dear. Forty-two years aboard a man-o-war.
So, have you got a few pennies to spare, or not?"
"I've nothing. Not a penny. I gave my last to the Gallanty Man."
"A more gallant man than me you'll never meet. This is the thanks I
get for serving my country man and boy." So saying, he stumped off down
a street that led between rows of ramshackle houses. It was unlit and
dimly forbidding but Esther followed him without thinking. She kept a
good way behind led on by the clip-clopping of his wooden leg.
"Don't bother with him," came a voice from the shadows. "He'll cheat
you blind."
"Take every penny you've got," said another.
"But I've told him, I don't have a penny!" cried Esther peering into
the gloom to see who was speaking to her.
"And make a monkey out of you, too." said another with a peal of
mocking laughter.
A light in a window drew Esther across the street to discover a shop
window filled with every kind of sweet imaginable. There were bull's
eyes and aniseed balls, treacle toffee and coconut kisses, liquorice
treasures and dewdrops.
"Just like Mrs Parsons'," thought Esther remembering the sweetshop not
far from her Aunt Emmy's house where she had often pressed her face
against the window on her way to and from errands. Occasionally there
would be a few farthings change to spend and she would go in to be
dazzled by all the sweets on offer and the shopkeeper's cheery
smile.
"Well, a little like Mrs Parsons'," she corrected herself. "I wonder if
it's open." As if in answer to her thought, the door swung ajar. She
peered into the dim interior cautiously. An orange lamp bubbled on the
counter sending shadows dancing around the room.
"Come in, my dear," said a voice from the shadows. Esther was startled
but stepped inside and tentatively crossed to the counter. An old woman
with a hooked nose and prominent chin shuffled into the light. Like the
witch from a fairy tale, thought Esther; although at first glance this
woman seemed gentle and kind.
"You like the look of my goodies - just wait until you taste them
too," the old woman said, chuckling to herself with a self-satisfied
air.
"I've got no money," admitted Esther.
"That doesn't matter," said the old woman obligingly. "I'll trust you.
You can pay me later."
"But I might not come back this way," said Esther.
"Oh, but you will, my dear. You'll come back this way, have no
fear."
The certainty of the old woman's declaration puzzled and alarmed
Esther. As she pondered its meaning the shopkeeper picked out a
selection of sweets and popped them into a paper cone. She held it out
for Esther to take.
"Here you are, my sweetness."
Esther felt torn between her longing for these sweets - so many sweets
that looked so inviting - and the feeling that it really was stealing
because she definitely wouldn't be coming back this way and even if she
did where would she get the money for so many sweets. On the other hand
she had been taught to be polite and never to refuse an offered gift
and so she took the cone.
"Thank you," she said. Thank you very much indeed."
"You're welcome," said the old woman briskly and turned to rearrange
the sweet jars on the shelves behind the counter. Despite her lingering
doubts Esther couldn't resist dipping her hand into the cone to slip a
butter ball between her lips..
Quick as a flash the shopkeeper turned and stared at Esther. Her face
was contorted with rage and her eyes were wide with fury.
"Thief! Thief! Come into my shop and steal my sweets, would you? You
wicked girl!" She moved quickly to the end of the counter and began to
lift the wooden flap but Esther was quicker and dodged out of the shop.
She looked desperately up and down the street in the hope of finding
some sign that would tell her which way to go - but there was nothing.
The sound of shopkeeper's footsteps behind her made her mid up and she
dashed off down the street. The old woman did not follow her beyond the
doorway but sent an army of ripe oaths and fresh accusations to pursue
her instead.
Esther ran and ran without knowing where she was going. Her only
thought was to escape from that terrifying old woman. As she ran,
however, she sensed that her surroundings were changing. Cobblestones
gave way to gravel beneath her feet; houses were replaced by hedgerows
and fields. This did nothing to slacken her pace, however. If anything,
it felt as if she was running faster and had lost control of her legs.
They were taking her where they wanted to go and she could do nothing
about it. The rush of air whipped past her so that her eyes watered and
her breath was snatched away.
When her feet finally stopped she realised that she had left the town
far behind. The landscape looked familiar. It reminded her of the area
where her grandparents had lived. Small fields filled with grass and
summer flowers were bounded by dry-stone walls. Above the fields wild
moors stretched away into the distance but the walls kept on climbing.
Here and there were sturdy farmsteads, which seemed to squat down
against the windswept landscape.
Her memories of the happy days she'd spent with her grandparents and
the tranquil scene began to make her feel calmer. Further along the
road she could see a little stone bridge, which she knew would mean the
clear, thirst-quenching water of a rocky stream. It was just as she
imagined and she took several deep draughts before settling on the
grassy bank to watch a fish skipping between the rocks. The charm of
its movement, the warmth of the day and the bubbling water soon made
her forget all her troubles.
"Good day, my pretty one," a voice from the bridge broke the spell.
She looked up, shading her eyes with her hand to see a soldier standing
there - tall, straight like a sentry on guard duty, resplendent in his
cherry-red uniform and shiny peaked cap.
"I'm sorry if I startled you. I meant no harm," he said.
"No.. . I was dreaming," replied Esther rather flustered by his sudden
appearance. "I didn't hear you approach."
"You were, as they say, in the Land of the Fairies. I'm sorry; I
should have been more considerate. "
"That's quite all right," said Esther, regaining her composure. "Can
you please tell me something? What is this place called?"
The soldier laughed. "You really were in fairyland! Dot you really not
know where you are?"
As Aunt Emmy had so often said: honesty is the best policy. Esther
decided to tell the honest truth however strange it might sound. "It's
just that I don't know how I got here."
"My poor young lady," said the soldier solicitously. "Are you
unwell?"
"I'm not sure. I do feel a little strange. As if I'm not myself
somehow."
"Allow me to accompany you to the village. I am sure we can find
someone there to take care of you."
"The village . . . yes, that sounds like a good idea," said Esther
remembering how friendly everyone had been in the village near her
grandparents' house. The soldier offered his hand to help Esther up
onto the road and she took it gratefully.
"May I be so bold as to take your arm," said the soldier. "To give you
some support, nothing more."
Esther thought about this for a moment. What would Aunt Emmy say? A
strange man! Walking arm in arm! And they hadn't even been introduced!
On the other hand he was a soldier and he showed every sign of being a
thoroughly upright character. And she did feel quite weak after
everything that had happened to her.
"Thank you," she said. "That would be most kind."

&;#353;
The day was bright and sunny. A clear blue sky stretched from horizon
to horizon untroubled by a single cloud. The sound of skylarks filled
the air above them while in the hedgerows yellowhammers chattered out
their lunchtime menu of "a-little-bit-of-bread-and-no-cheese". Bees
buzzed between willowherb, woodvine and wild roses.
"I'll pick a flower for your hair," said the soldier and he leaped
boldly into the hedgerow where a shower of roses tumbled down. After
carefully selecting the flower he wanted he snapped it off sharply but
as he did he scratched the back of his hand on a thorn. Esther heard
him draw in his breath sharply and saw him suck the blood from his
hand.
As he stepped back from the hedgerow and turned to present her with the
flower, Esther shrank back in horror. This was not the soldier who had
greeted her on the bridge, who had taken her arm and talked of the
beauties of nature. This was not the fine young man with the ram-rod
back in the smart uniform with its shiny buttons. This soldier was old
and shrivelled. He stooped and dragged one foot behind him. His uniform
was torn and dirty. He wore a bandage around his head caked with dried
blood.
"A pretty flower for a pretty lady," he said through broken teeth,
holding out a drooping sprig of red campion.
"Leave me alone!" cried Esther.
"You're not afeard of an old soldier are you?"
"Keep away from me!"
"You were friendly enough on the bridge," said the soldier, beginning
to sound annoyed by Esther's reaction.
"But you weren't on the bridge . . .That wasn't you."
"It was me all right . . . you just didn't look close enough," he said
with a unpleasant leer.
"You've changed."
"We all change. I left the best part of me on the battlefields of the
Empire," muttered the soldier bitterly. "Is it any wonder that I've
changed."
Esther backed away from him. She was becoming more and more frightened
by the soldier's increasingly bitter tone. She had to get away from him
and so she turned and ran off down the road as fast as she could.
"Nobody wants a soldier when there's no wars to fight," shouted the
soldier to her retreating figure. .
She was relieved when he didn't try to follow her and began to feel
safer as she reached the village, hoping that it would give her the
sanctuary she needed. It looked kindly and inviting. There was a clump
of picture-book cottages with gardens heaving with hollyhocks and
lupins and vegetable patches filled with neat rows of cabbages and
beans. The twin pillars of this community - the church and the inn -
faced each other across the village green. Esther's instincts and Aunt
Emmy's influence drew her towards the church for safety but her feet
turned her towards the inn. She thought about Tom working at The George
and wondered if there would be someone like him at this inn that would
be kind and take care of her. It was smaller than The George but was
built along similar lines. An archway led through into a yard where
horses were left and carts unloaded. To her amazement Esther heard a
sound that she recognised coming from this yard. It was a slow
rhythmical beat on a drum accompanying a high warbling tune from the
panpipes. Hardly daring to hope that some fantastic miracle had
occurred and that she was about to find familiar faces she picked up
her heels and ran headlong through the archway.
Sure enough, there stood the Gallanty Man's booth with the missus
marching around it drumming up custom for the next performance. There
stood the Gallanty Man himself holding open the back curtain of the
booth and bowing ceremoniously from the waist. A smile seemed to light
up his whole face.
Esther stopped in her tracks and caught his eyes. Nothing was said but
it felt like a conversation was taking place. No words were needed. She
stepped into the booth and the showman let the curtain fall behind
her.

&;#353;
Everything appeared to be exactly the same as it had been when she had
first stepped into the booth in the Market Square. The lantern glowed
and the figures hung from their hooks. She suddenly felt very tired.
She wanted to get out of the booth but didn't was scared she might meet
that soldier again or find herself back in the sweetshop with its
bad-tempered proprietor.
Then all her anxious thoughts were swept away by Tom's voice from
outside.
"Come on, Esther, we've got to get you home before your Aunt Emmy
discovers you've been out!"
Tom was outside, where she had left him. They weren't in the country.
They were outside the Corn Market in the middle of town. Had she just
imagined everything? Was it a dream brought on by all the excitement,
the confined space and the fumes from the lantern? She pulled the
curtain aside and stepped out.
"Did you find it illuminating, my dear?" asked the showman.
"Yes . . .it's very interesting."
"I like to call it my personal kingdom - a terra incognita (that's
unknown land in the Latin tongue). Each time I enter it I explore it
anew. The show transports me there through its magic," declared the
showman with a mischievous smile.
Esther wondered if the Gallanty Man knew what had happened to her. But
had it happened? Whether it was real or imaginary something strange and
fantastic had occurred. Something she couldn't explain yet.. She needed
time to think things out.
"Come on," said Tom bringing her back down to Earth. "We'd better get a
move on."
She marvelled that Tom didn't say anything. She must have been in the
booth for ages and yet he was behaving as if she'd been gone for just a
few minutes.
"We're doing another show tomorrow. Can we expect you in our audience?"
asked the Gallanty Man.
"I'll be there," said Tom enthusiastically.
"And you, my dear," said the showman to Esther.
"I'm not sure," she replied. "My Aunt might not be going out
tomorrow."
"It'll be a good show. I can guarantee that."
"Best show in the Midland counties!" called the missus and gave an
extra rattle on her drum for emphasis.

&;#353;

As the two friends walked back to Esther's house Tom chattered away
excitedly. He relived the whole show, as she hadn't seen it. He related
the conversation he'd had with the Gallanty Man while Esther was inside
the booth. He made jokes at the expense of the missus. Esther said
nothing. She had too much to think about. She wanted to tell Tom what
had happened to her but wasn't sure that he would believe her. If truth
were told she wasn't sure that she believed it herself.
Aunt Emmy was still out when they reached the house. Tom made her
promise that she'd go down to The George in the morning so that they
could plot tomorrow night's escape. The house felt cold and unwelcoming
as Esther tiptoed upstairs. She looked in to check that Sarah was still
fast asleep before going to her own room. As she took her pinafore off
something fell out of the pocket. She bent down to see what it was and
froze in mid-movement. There on the floor were a screwed up cone of
paper and a wilted sprig of red campion.