The Playmakers by Graeme Johnstone Page B

branch out.
    Rather than stick to his regular, well-worn
trek, he determined they would take on ‘The Grand Tour’ as he
described it, in a circular loop that would eventually take them to
the prize - London.
    They journeyed north to Liverpool, where
profits indeed were so good that Budsby honoured his own promise
and had a specially lowered wagon manufactured, providing better
access for his giant frame.
    They travelled further north to near the
border with Scotland, where the paler half of the Siamese twins was
able to briefly and happily reunite with her family.
    Then they turned east to Newcastle, where
they were feted like kings, before heading south on the final
leg.
    They were drawing such huge crowds, seduced
by Shakespeare’s uncanny knack of adding drama to the programme,
that by the time they were closing on the outskirts of Norwich in
the summer of 1587, they were confident of taking London by
storm.
    Thus, after spending a splendid night in the
clearing pointed out to them by Samuel Davidson, the seasoned guard
protecting the property of the Earl of Oxford, they awoke with
confidence.
    And indeed, through the skill of Soho and the
spruiking of Shakespeare, a huge crowd was yet again conjured up at
a nearby tiny village, and the giant tent was abuzz. Customers were
amazed by the twins, astounded by the fire-eater, and gasped at the
right places when Viktor seemed doomed to fall but made his
dramatic comeback. The highlight was the appearance of Hercules,
who once again underlined his strength when several large but
uncoordinated young locals tried valiantly, but failed to lift the
massive weight.
    All that changed when Samuel Davidson himself
suddenly pushed his way through and up on to on the stage, amid a
buzz from the crowd, and declared he was ready to accept Mr
Budsby’s challenge to take on the big man.
    Budsby began wondering whether issuing the
challenge the previous evening over a soothing whisky, in order to
get past Davidson and onto a place to rest, had been such a good
idea.
    Now stripped of his armoury and viewed in the
cold light of day, Samuel Davidson presented a worrisome sight. He
may have been short, and not all that pretty, but he obviously knew
how to look after himself. His muscles bulged and glistened in the
bright light of the tent.
    “I fear,” whispered Budsby to Shakespeare at
the side of the stage, “we may have bitten off more than we can
chew.”
    And as if to prove the point, Samuel Davidson
strode forward, grabbed the bar, and lifted Hercules’ weight with
ease!
    He held it high above his head to the roars
of the capacity-house crowd. “That’s our Samuel,” they shouted.
    Hercules, the Gentle Giant, seemed unfazed.
Winking at his boss, he waved to the other side of the stage.
    There was much noise and confusion, and then
Nick Sayers, muscular Viktor, and two of the acrobats, led by Soho
pretending to whip them, staggered on stage, carrying an even
bigger challenge. The crowd roared as they dumped down a bar
carrying a pair of weights almost twice the size of the ones
Hercules and Samuel Davidson had just lifted.
    “Good grief,” whispered an astonished
Shakespeare, “where does he keep that?”
    “In a trunk marked ‘For Emergency Purposes
Only’.”
    Hercules made a great deal of this lift,
flexing his muscles, circling the stage, and beating his chest in
preparation. Eventually he got down to business, and after a long
moment, when he seemed to go into a trance, he lifted the bar up,
straight over his head.
    “Thinking. Timing. Confidence,” whispered
Shakespeare to himself as the crowd roared applause.
    Now it was Davidson’s turn.
    The crowd hushed as he went straight at the
bar, gave it an almighty heave, and got it up to his chin. The
strain on him was enormous, and the veins in his neck stood out
half an inch as he gasped for air and willed himself to push it
above his head. He gave one last shove, but his knees started to
buckle, he staggered, and the