Extract from Brush Strokes

I stood up, shaking so badly I nearly fell again. Just yards away the black opening between two caravans beckoned, a tempting escape route, only for Gerry to appear once more and favour me with a dirty leer as he propped himself against the side of the caravan. I forced a smile and turned to look as I caught a movement across the square. Two carnies were dragging something between them, the pillory, only not my beautiful wood and leather creation, but the ridiculous plastic thing the clowns used. I drew a heavy sigh.

Others followed, with buckets, sponges and other bits and pieces, not all of which I was able to see. The pillory was set up at the very centre of the square, in the full glare of the lights, the rest arranged together beside one of the largest caravans. There was no sign of either Sean or Mick, and I waited, trying to look calm and ignoring their attention, wisecracks and muffled sniggers. Hannah had been talking to a group of men by the large caravan, but came back, once more all smiles as she approached me.

‘Don’t you worry about a thing, darling,’ she said, patting my bottom, ‘just remember, Ma Riley’s here to look after you.’

I nodded, despite thinking that putting me in a pillory for the amusement of her bunch of carnies was a pretty off way to look after me. Turning away from me, she held up her hands, at which the noise from the crowd changed, from open, easy banter to something more tense, with many of them looking towards the largest of the gaps between the caravans. I looked too, just in time to see the two clowns emerge, Baffo in a series of impressive somersaults, which Buffo attempted to imitate, only to tip over himself and sprawl in the mud.

The response was laughter, somewhat forced, from everybody except me. I was staring, as a nasty suspicion began to dawn. Hannah was now behind me, whispering in my ear as the two clowns turned towards where I was standing with all too obvious intent.

‘Run,’ she hissed, ‘try and get away from them.’

I didn’t really need telling. My heart had sunk into my boots as the truth dawned on me, and I was already close to panic. They were coming for me, both of them crouched low like wrestlers, only in ludicrous exaggeration, with their bottoms thrust out and their arms spread as wide as they could possibly go. Hannah’s hand touched the middle of my back, shoved, and I was running, darting between the two clowns.

Baffo gave a crow of laughter, Buffo a great groan of dismay and immediately tripped up. Around me the crowd had closed up, blocking any possible escape as Baffo began to chase me around the pillory, coming behind in great leaps and bounds now drawing real laughter and shouts of encouragement from the crowd. He wasn’t going to catch me, but Buffo was, rushing in from the side and hurling himself forward in a flying tackle.

He missed completely, once more sprawling in the mud, but I knew they were only playing cat and mouse with me. I darted back the other way, missing Buffo’s hand by an inch as he snatched at my ankle, dodging Baffo, only to slip in the muddy grass and go down. Both of them were on me in an instant, grabbing my legs and lifting me, head down, so that my hat fell off and my head was trailing in the wet grass as they dragged me towards the pillory.

I was gasping for breath, and could do nothing as I was turned over and my head and arms forced down into the pillory. The top was closed and I was trapped, helpless, my bottom stuck out behind, a position both vulnerable and ludicrous, which already had the crowd cheering and clapping, even before I’d had anything done to me. I closed my eyes, trying to bring my feelings under control before they started, but there wasn’t to be even a moment’s peace.

Buffo was behind me, sniggering loudly as he made a great display of lifting the tails of my smart black coat and examining my bottom from just inches away. I’d began to shake, expecting my jodhpurs to be pulled down at any moment and my panties to follow. Nothing happened, Baffo striding pompously back and slapping Buffo’s wrist before leading him out to the front. They stood together, at arms length to each other, and performed a sweeping bow, then straightened up, Baffo addressing the crowd.

‘My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you, the disgrace of Madame Boobfontaine! This busty young scallywag has been caught exhibiting her airs and graces to the good folk of the Carnival Bizarre, and for this, she must pay the price, a thorough trumping, until she learns the error of her ways and a little respect! Buffo, to the sponges!’

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