Fairground pt 4

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The Fun House

The classroom was nearly empty, just me, Sally and Rupert Jones, the class swot, who was never going to miss a day of school. There were about 50 kids in the whole school and a whole load of grumpy teachers who had been hoping none of us little buggers would show up, so they could knock off early and get down the pub. Sally and I hadn’t talked about last night but I knew when I knocked her door she, like me, would be in uniform and ready for school and not about to bunk off.

Our headmistress had spelt it out clearly - missing school on Friday would lead to draconian punishments, but that wasn’t why we were there. We like all those who weren’t there knew there was nothing she could do if we all mitched off school. There was safety in numbers, she couldn’t suspend us all. So as we sat glumly in class, the majority were down the Island enjoying the sunshine. 

You see the Radio Fun Roadshow was rumbling into town for a morning of fun and frolics with our favourite Radio Fun DJ, Markie ‘the big man’ Morris. It was a yearly event, each year a different DJ but the difference this year was that it fell on a school day not during the holidays and this year it was Markie the big Man Morris.  Markie ‘the big man’ Morris was a legend, he was the original and best Radio Fun DJ and he’d never been to Barry before, and up until last night there was no way we were going to miss it.

‘Woe betide you if you miss school’ the head had said, well woe was going to have to betide us, or so we thought. So why were Sally and I in school with the swots and the kids with strict parents, while everyone else was enjoying Radio Fun?

Sally and I had wanted more, we didn’t just want to be there we wanted to be part of it, to be on the stage, on National Radio Fun. So we’d headed for the fairground the night before convinced that we would be able to meet the team while they were setting up the trucks. But we were disappointed, the trucks were there but no sign of any Radio Fun staff, and no sign of Markie ‘the big man’ Morris. The fairground seemed quiet, the calm before the storm. There were kids on the dodgems, but the roller coaster was empty and the ghost train deserted. Neon lights and tinny noises attracted customers that didn’t exist. Sally and I had a quick spin on the Waltzers and then headed home disappointed.

As we walked past Barry Hotel we looked into the windows as we always did. We usually pulled faces at the diners eating their fancy meals while we munched our chips outside. But tonight the faces of the diners were familiar, it was only bloody Markie ‘the big man’ Morris, his side kick and their producer. We’d stumbled upon gold.

Sally looked at me, I looked at Sally, and without saying anything we marched in to the hotel restaurant ignoring the advances of the receptionists as we did so. We went straight up to Markie.

‘Hi,’ Sally said. She was always braver than me, ‘can we have your autograph please?’

Markie ‘the big man’ Morris looked at us though his sunglasses, his face looked older up close and his hair thin and wiry, I shivered looking at him. He was like death warmed up.

‘Hey,’ he said in his DJ voice. ‘Why don’t you guys come upstairs with me, I’ve got some signed photos up there.’

‘Great,’ Sally said.

He looked at me, ‘on second thoughts why don’t you stay here,’ he said.

There was something about this guy I didn’t like. ‘I go where Sally goes.’ I said.

‘The more the merrier, come on then.’ as we followed the big man up to his room, I noticed the two other men giving each other a knowing nod.

‘What are you names?’ Markie ‘the big man’ Morris asked us.

‘I’m Sally and he’s Craig.’

‘And how old are you?’ He put his arm around Sally; it seemed huge, sucking her into his body.

‘14 and 15,’ Sally said. We’d reached the room.

He busied himself by the dressing table. It seemed hot in the room; there was a pungent smell of BO and cheap aftershave.

‘Do you know why they call me the big man?’ He asked, and turned around displaying the answer right there in front of our eyes.

‘Now if you want those autographs' he said looking at me 'why doesn’t you let your little girlfriend touch this and if you both touch it, you’ll be on the radio tomorrow.’

Sally looked at me, I looked at Sally, and without saying anything we marched out of the hotel room and down the stairs as quickly as we could. I drank in the cool night air like a man in the desert might take on liquid. 

‘Fucking hell’ Sally said.

‘Fucking hell’ I repeated.

“He touched my tits,’ Sally said quietly. I put my arm around her.

‘What should we do?’ I said.

‘I don’t know, shall we tell the police?’

‘They wouldn’t believe us.’

I walked Sally home, trying to be protective and then headed home myself, knowing I’d be in school tomorrow morning. 
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