Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Twenty Eight - Part Two

4

On the way back from the green grocer’s, Burt ran into Mavis.

She was in the alley at the side of the Dog & Pony, hanging out washing on a line. He saw her from the corner of his eye but he didn’t stop. When she saw him she called after him, “Burt!” but he went on walking.

“Burt wait!” She hurried to the corner of the alley.

Burt smiled to himself and pretended he hadn’t heard.

“Burt! Wait up!” Mavis came after him down the street and now Burt did stop and turn to face her.

“Oh. Ey oop Mavis. I didn’t see you there.”

“Ey up Burt. Are ye right?”

He shrugged. “Can’t complain.”

“Ah good. Er…”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“Right, well I ave’ta be back oop at’all so I’ll sees ye around.” He turned to go.

“Wait, Burt.”

He paused.

“I was opin we could ave a talk, you an me,” said Mavis.

“Wot about?”

“About… Us. Bein together.”

Burt feigned confusion. “Ain’t you with that bloke wot was too afraid to fight me the other day?”

Mavis’s cheeks reddened slightly. “No. Him and me ain’t… He was just…” She floundered, unsure what best to say.

“Yes…”

“I was just thinkin that maybe you and me could… I was watching you fight the other night an I…”

“What?”

“I remembered what I was missin, that’s all.”

“Oh aye?” Burt was grinning on the inside, loving the turnabout of Mavis begging him for favours.

“I saw ow strong you was and ow good you were at fightin… and I…”

“You wanted to shag me?”

The both chuckled. “Yeah. That’s about it.”

“Well,” said Burt. “I’m not short on offers nowadays so I’ll ave to see.” He turned and walked away.

“Burt, wait!”

He stopped again and this time he grinned broadly, his back to her.

“Give me another chance. Please.”

He waited for a long moment, drawing the pleasure out, then walked back to Mavis and took her in his arms. “Ahright luv,” he said. “If you insist an all.”

He pressed his lips to hers and snogged her for all he was worth.

5

After she’d had her lunch, Ann took a turn about the lake in the park as she was wont to do in the afternoons whenever she could. Thornton, the footman, was ordered to hang back well out of her sightline so she wouldn’t be distracted or disturbed.

After feeling so smug and sure of herself at breakfast, Ann was now thoroughly bewildered. She had so many thoughts buzzing in her skull that she couldn’t think straight: resentment of her marginalization as a weak-brained woman, the lure of the money, Richard’s lack of affection, the growing glimmer of lust she felt for the stable hand. It was more than she could cope with. She needed to clear her head, that was all, then the pieces would start to fall into place.

She wasn’t some ignorant yokel now; she was Lady Ann Neville and she was more than capable of taking charge of this situation.

She closed her eyes as she walked and let the cool breeze off the water caress her skin. It was so serene here. She thought perhaps it was where she felt safest and most at peace.

The path looped round the edge of the lake close to the road then curved back in. Trying to let go of all her anxiety, Ann walked on, simply enjoying the quiet and the gentle light of the sun through her closed eyelids.

Then her eyes popped open as rough hands grabbed her shoulders from behind, jerking her backward and almost off balance.

She was swung round and Ann found herself staring into the face of a rough-looking swarthy-skinned peasant and at the grimy thickset man he had with him.

She started to speak but the oily hand of the thickset man closed over her mouth, blocking the air she tried to draw in. She could barely breathe, let alone scream, then she tilted sideways, losing her footing as they snatched at her.

Someone was calling her name. “Lady Ann! Lady Ann!” Thornton, the little footman who was supposed to be guarding her. But the men were dragging her backwards, off the path, across the narrow strip of grass and to the road.

She struggled, trying to get free but her strength was pathetic next to theirs. She tried to cry out but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything to stop them!

There was an ugly little carriage waiting at the side of the road. The doors were open. A third man was inside, reaching out as they dragged her toward it.

She couldn’t get her arms free; couldn’t call out.

Thornton was running toward them but he was far too far away.

She was inside the carriage; thrown down on the floor. Her legs were tossed in after her, hooking her almost upside down.

The doors were closing.

The driver cracked his whip. The carriage lurched.

Thornton was still calling but it was too late.

The men were grappling with her, tying a dirty rag around her mouth to gag her.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening! Not to her!

But there was nothing she could do about it!

She was trapped!

6

After Burt was finished with his work for the day, he and Mavis took a stroll around the fair, looking at the different stalls.

Once upon a time he would have enjoyed nothing more than a walk around the British Museum admiring the fine works of art. Now, this was more his sort of entertainment. There were all sorts of attractions: hoopla, a coconut shy, jugglers, dancing girls. Better yet, people remembered him from the boxing match two nights before and he got more than one appreciative look from the ladies or nod from the blokes. With Mavis on his arm dressed in her poshest and most revealing frock, he couldn’t imagine feeling happier.

True, it was a shame about being taken off looking after the horses, but he had to agree he didn’t really have the brains for it no more, if he ever had. And it wasn’t too bad just being a labourer. With the horses he had been expected to be proactive and autonomous to some extent. Now that all he did was hard graft, he just had to follow orders; there was no thinking involved. Thinking made his brain ache.

He tugged Mavis over to the coconut shy and she laughed and squealed as he tried his luck, knocking down coconuts with two out of three of his balls. He gave the prize to Mavis and she hugged it proudly, showing off what her man had won for her to everyone they passed. Burt sniggered at that but it did make him feel proud.

Next he had a go on the Test Your Strength machine with its pressure pad and hammer shooting up to the bell on the top, showing off his muscles first like a strong man. A few girls were gathered there and they chattered gaily when they recognized Burt, especially at the show he was gamely putting on for them.

The bloke wot was running it gave him the long hammer and he swung it round his head, grinning, before he brought it down hard. The clapper shot up the thing’s neck and struck the bell with a loud clang and every onlooker cheered.

“He may be dumber than a tree stump,” said Mavis to one of the other girls. “But there’s no one stronger in all the valley.”

The girls all laughed, dampening Burt’s pride a little, but he knew what was what. Any one of them would spread their legs for him if he offered and Mavis only meant it affectionately.

And he could hardly complain if she was telling the truth. He might be a few bob short of a quid but he was also the toughest bloke in them parts. He gave it a half moment’s further thought and concluded that was better anyhow.

He’d much rather have brawn than brains any day of the week.