Nancy Carson - Poppy’s Dilemma

Poppy’s curiosity inclined her to spend a halfpenny to see a woman who was supposed to be the fattest woman on earth, until a miner emerged from the tent and declared, ‘There’s one a sight fatter ’n ’er up Kates Hill.’ Elsewhere, a man was grinding a barrel organ; his monkey, on a long lead, was jumping from one person to another collecting small change in a tin mug. A crowd had gathered around a stall where they were invited to part with money to ‘find the lady’. Poppy was astounded that she herself never got it right, confident that she had followed the card diligently as it was switched from one place to another in an effort to confound.

In a large tent a company of actors was performing, and not far from that stood a beer booth around which men were gathered in various states of inebriation. A couple of young men in rough clothing called to Poppy and Minnie to join them and, predictably, Minnie couldn’t help but be drawn. Poppy had little alternative but to follow. These lads were the worse for drink, but Minnie played up to them and they plied both girls with a mug of beer each. Poppy, to Minnie’s eternal frustration, was reticent about getting too involved, but Minnie showed no such inhibitions as she willingly accepted another mug of beer and giggled at their lewdness.

Inevitably, Poppy was showing little interest in the attention and bawdy suggestions from the lad with whom she seemed to be stuck. She was not impressed with anybody who did not recognise the folly of getting too drunk and, besides, her earlier meeting with Robert Crawford was still fresh in her mind. Compared to Robert Crawford, this buffoon, who remained doggedly at her side as she was trying to make her escape, was as nothing.

‘Come with me over the fields,’ he slurred, unwilling to concede defeat.

‘I don’t want to,’ Poppy replied earnestly, looking behind to check whether Minnie was following.

‘But I bought yer a mug o’ beer.’

‘It don’t mean you bought me .’

‘Oh? Come more expensive than that, do yer?’

Poppy remained sullenly silent, wishing fervently that the young man would go away.

‘Got a bob on yerself, ain’t yer, for a navvy’s wench?’ he said scornfully.

‘What makes you think you’re any better than me?’ she asked, indignant at his insinuation.

‘What’s up wi’ yer?’ he goaded. ‘Yer mate’s game. Come on, let’s goo over the fields an’ have some fun.’

Thinking that intimate bodily contact might render him irresistible, he put his arm around her waist and drew her to him. When Poppy wriggled in an effort to get away, he held on to her tightly, causing her to wriggle more.

‘Leave me be,’ she said angrily.

‘Poppy! Is this chap bothering you?’ To Poppy’s utter surprise, it was Jericho who spoke.

‘Jericho! Where did you spring from?’

‘Me and Dog Meat just got here. I watched you walking down here. Is this chap bothering you?’

‘Why do chaps always think you’re keen to go off with them?’ she complained.

Even as she spoke, Jericho had the young man by the lapels of his jacket and flung him to the floor. He dived on him, hurling abuse, fists flying, while the poor victim tried in vain to protect his face from Jericho’s vicious blows. Soon, a crowd gathered round and their vocal encouragement added fuel to Jericho’s ardour. There was nothing better than a fight to inflame the passions of a crowd, especially when most had been drinking. To his credit, Dog Meat could see which way this fight was going and, fearing a murder, he grabbed hold of Jericho and managed to pull him away.

‘You’ll kill the little bastard.’

‘That’s what I’m trying to do,’ Jericho rasped, resisting Dog Meat’s restraining hold.

‘No! You’ve hurt him enough. Use your brains. Leave him be. Leave him be .’

Jericho calmed down and the youth, with a swollen eye and his face smeared with blood, struggled to his feet and slipped into the crowd, out of reach. ‘Next time, I’ll marmalise yer,’ Jericho yelled, shaking his fists. He turned to Poppy, who had turned pale with apprehension. ‘Are you all right, my pet?’

‘You didn’t have to hurt the poor chap like that,’ Poppy responded. ‘I could’ve handled him all right.’

‘Jesus! Is that all the thanks I get? I could see you was trying to get away from him. I could see he was being a bloody pest. Who knows what might have happened? You should be grateful I was there.’

Poppy smiled reservedly, unsure how to react to Jericho’s violent gallantry.

Minnie appeared, having seen the wisdom in breaking free of the lad she had been promising so much to. She smiled at Dog Meat and took his arm. ‘I’m glad you come, Dog Meat,’ she cooed. ‘We was just going to the Grin and Bear It to find you, till that chap tried to get Poppy. But you can buy us a drink here, if you’ve a mind.’

‘Nah,’ Dog Meat replied. ‘If that chap fetches a bobby we could be in trouble. Let’s clear off and have a drink somewhere else. There’s plenty places.’

So the foursome left the fair. Dog Meat and Minnie walked arm-in-arm, with Poppy and Jericho behind. They stopped at a public house called The Woolpack in the town and drank outside in the warm summer evening air till closing time. Jericho was successful in occupying Poppy entirely and she told him of her father and how he had been forced by circumstances to leave the encampment. Jericho listened attentively and uttered sympathetic comments.

‘And now if he comes back Lord knows what will happen,’ Poppy said.

‘Oh?’ Jericho queried. ‘What makes you say so?’

‘Oh, because Tweedle Beak has wormed his way into my mother’s bed.’ She saw no harm in mentioning it. He would know tomorrow anyhow, when the wheels of encampment gossip began turning. And besides, she felt the need to talk to somebody, to get it off her chest and gain another opinion.

‘’Tis nothing out o’ the ordinary,’ Jericho said consolingly. ‘’Tis likely anyhow that Lightning Jack has bunked up with some woman, wherever ’tis he’s got to.’

‘But he’s my dad,’ Poppy argued. ‘And I don’t like the thought of him being done the dirty on. Oh, I know me mother was worried about being turned out and having to go on tramp, but I would’ve rather gone on tramp if I’d been her. I wouldn’t have sold meself for the price of a few weeks’ rent, ’specially to the likes of hook-nosed Tweedle Beak. I don’t admire what she’s done, Jericho.’

‘Well, like as not, they ain’t been to bed yet, eh? Like as not, Tweedle Beak’s still swilling beer down his throat.’

‘Like as not,’ Poppy agreed. ‘But when he gets back, my mother’s gunna be lying with him.’ She shuddered at the thought.

‘Jesus, you’re a sensitive soul, Poppy,’ Jericho said. ‘I ain’t never knowed anybody like you afore.’

She smiled up at him. ‘I told you that already. I told you I ain’t like the others.’

‘Nor you ain’t. But what does it matter? Life’s life. Men are men and women are women, and they’ll never be no different.’

‘I don’t know what it is.’ She shrugged and sipped her beer. ‘Maybe it’s ’cause I see too many women giving themselves to men who ain’t worthy to lick their boots. And what do they get for their trouble? A belly full of babby that they’ve got no alternative but to rear. And do the men care? No. The more babbies, the better. “Keep the women babbied,” they say. It keeps ’em out of harm’s way, and shows their mates how fertile they are. Men are like kids, Jericho. I never met one yet who’s grown up … Save for one, maybe …’

‘You mean me?’ he said.

She smiled but didn’t answer him.