Outcast

Outcast

The troubles have altered everything. Nothing is familiar. It is a foreign place. Even the people have changed.

I am nervously walking down the old lane for the first time in ten years, but it has been ripped apart. No one recognises me. Strange, because I know almost every face standing in this desolate place – well apart from the chavvies.

I can see them whispering to each other behind their hands as they watch my progress in my run-down high heels.

         “Who is she?”  Flora Wood is saying as she clutches her new baby to her breast. I remember her well. We were taunted together at the village school, because we were different.

They are all shrugging their shoulders now and staring at me with blank faces hardened by continual harassment and suffering.

          “It’s me, Ailsa; Zeke and Cin’s daughter,” I want to tell them but my tongue is fixed to my palate and my mouth is too dry to form the words.

Their expressions are hostile and I’m feeling guilty for escaping. My life has been so far removed from theirs that I can’t blame them for their underlying antagonism. We were all the same once. We were taught to be suspicious of outsiders and I fear that with my expensive looking clothes and overdone make-up, I am now an outsider.

          “What happened here?” My fear for Tommy is making me sound gruff and unfriendly.

          “Who wants to know?”

I am looking at the broken man who has forced his way to the front of the gathering. It is Daddy Boshomengro. I guess he must still be King of the Tan but I am sad to see him looking so defeated.

Again, my reply is stuck in my mouth. I know I have betrayed my family and friends, and turned my back on our beliefs and morals. The lure of TV and fame had been irresistible but I always meant to come back for Tommy.

          “A friend.” I can see my answer has cut no ice.

          “I bet she’s from the Council.” I do not recognise the young racklo whose assumption is spreading an epidemic of fear through the crowd. I feel sorry for them all.

I do know what has befallen them. I did see the news coverage of the Council trying to evict them from their land and yes, I was a coward. I preferred to be wined and dined on champagne and cocaine than lift a finger to help them. My heart had bled for Tommy but I felt sure my people would not let anything bad happen to him and I could not bring myself to return and fight for him, for them. It was wrong. I see that now but I am keen to correct their mistake, and mine.

          “No, I’m not from the Council. I am just looking for someone.” I can see they do not believe me as I scan each of the collected faces, looking for Tommy.

If he is here, I am ashamed to say, I don’t recognise him. I have been a stranger to him since I left but I always believed I would know him the moment I saw him again and him me. I thought they would all know me. But my star has faded. The production company are letting me go. There are bright new starlets coming fast on my heels – star-struck little gypsy girls, as I had once been, eager for the bright lights and the promise of better things. There is nothing left for me there now.

          “You are on private land, madam.” Daddy Boshomengro is trying to regain his leadership and reputation. “This is ours and we fought hard for it. The Council surrendered in the end, but not until they had destroyed everything, and set the local people against us. This must be a new tactic. We know there was another meeting last night. So they’ve sent a woman to do a man’s job – soft-soaping us into submission.”

This is the King of the Tan that I remember, gutsy and eloquent. I like his spark and I have to tell him the truth.

          “Daddy Boshomengro,” I am whispering because I am too afraid to reveal my identity in front of everyone. “I’m Ailsa. I’m looking for Tommy.”

I see the look of shock on his face and the tears standing unshed in his blood-shot, world-weary eyes. “You can’t be. Our Ailsa would not have the nerve to show her face here now.”

I feel crushed but I deserve his derision. It is true that I am more gorgie than Romany these days.

          “But Tommy,” I am desperate now. “Where is my son, my little Tommy?”

All around me the sea of faces is melting into a collective expression of disgust and loathing. It is terrible to see. Someone’s sticky saliva is sliding slowly down my face and my tears are trying to wash it away. Daddy Boshomengro is weeping openly too. I was one of his favourites when I was young. I am so sorry to have disappointed him.

          “Your Tommy went away to find you. He told us that you had money and influence and that you would help us rebuild The Tan. He said he would bring you back with him, but that was over a year ago. He lied. We haven’t seen him since.”

My heart is breaking. I always believed my Tommy was a good boy. I thought he would wait for me. Why did I leave it so long? I guess ten years is an eternity to an eight-year-old boy.

The people are turning their backs on me now, preparing to carry on with their own broken lives as best they can. It is time for me to do the same, perhaps. Daddy Boshomengro is holding my hand. I think he still has some feeling left for me.

          “I believe that Tommy is making a name for himself in the boxing ring. It appears the bright lights have lured him away too. You should leave now. As you have seen, you are no longer welcome here. Goodbye Ailsa.”

He is walking away and I am on my own. Staring at The Tan, the place where I grew up, the place of all my fondest memories, I am lonely. I feel displaced and truly outcast.