Close to Home

by Janet Gover

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi.’ Simon took a couple of deep breaths. ‘I’ve talked to some of the troupe about a school visit.’

  ‘You have? If they don’t want to do it, that’s fine. I mean …’

  ‘It’s okay. They want to.’

  ‘Really? It doesn’t have to be much. Maybe a trick or two.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure we can do better than that. After all, we do this all the time.’ That wasn’t strictly true. Mostly they did it under the big top and got paid for it and left town the next day. But this was different. This town was going to be home for the circus and Simon wanted to build relationships.

  ‘Oh, thank you.’ She smiled again, a bigger smile that reached her eyes this time. She really did have a nice smile.

  ‘I’ll tell you what, why don’t you come out to our place and meet my grandmother and some of the troupe? Then we can figure out a plan.’

  ‘I … um … I don’t know where it is. I haven’t been in town long.’

  ‘It’s easy to find. Why don’t you call me and arrange a time? I’ll give you my number.’ His phone was strapped to his arm. He always carried it, in case Lucienne needed him.

  Meg grinned and shrugged.

  It took him a moment to realise there was nowhere in her running outfit to put a phone. ‘Does the school have a number I can call later? I’ll give you Lucienne’s landline as well. Sometimes mobiles don’t work out there.’

  Their business concluded, Meg began to stretch and run on the spot. ‘I’d better get going,’ she said.

  ‘I have one more lap to do. Mind if I join you?’ He didn’t have another lap to do. He’d run his usual distance, but she wouldn’t know that.

  She hesitated and for a moment he thought he might have gone too far.

  ‘No. Of course not.’

  It was nice running next to her. He managed to hide his limp, at least he thought he did. She ran easily, with a long stride that matched his shortened one. They didn’t speak or even look at each other, but the sense of companionship he’d felt before was much stronger. As they circled back to the gate, he caught her eye and nodded, before veering away to start the run home.

  Just as he emerged from the shower, he heard a vehicle driving up to the house. From the engine noise, he guessed it was a big vehicle, probably another circus truck. He wasn’t expecting anyone this morning, so he quickly threw on some clothes and emerged from the house a few minutes later to find Lucienne already talking to the truck driver. He blinked as he looked at the load on the truck.

  ‘Grand-mère?’

  ‘Ah, Simon, mon cher. Look. Is she not beautiful?’ Lucienne took his hand and together they walked along the side of the truck, looking at painted faces and wild eyes, characters and scenes from literature and legend. Lucienne was almost skipping in her excitement. Her eyes were alight and she looked twenty years younger.

  ‘It’s a carousel.’

  ‘Not just a carousel. It is a double carousel. She is a rare thing and so beautiful.’

  Simon had to admit there was something special about the carousel. Or at least the bits of it he could see. The artwork was old, Victorian in style and captivating despite the deterioration it had suffered.

  ‘That’s Verne. And Wells. The Jungle Book.’ The childhood memories came flooding back. He and Michelle listening as their grandmother told the stories in her mixture of French and English. The tattered pages of much loved books, alive with colourful illustrations. How he wished his sister was here to see this.

  ‘Where do you want it, mate?’ The driver was ready to unload.

  Lucienne answered before Simon could. ‘The big shed. There is room.’

  Simon understood now why Lucienne had insisted that a large area of that shed remain clear.

  With help from others in the troupe, the carousel was soon unloaded. As they stacked the horses and other animals, the hot air balloons and rocket ships, Simon ran his hands over faded and peeling paint. He noted a broken ear, and cracks here and there. The carousel had seen many years of service. He wondered how many children had laughed as they spun around on the back of the tiger. How many proud parents still had photographs of a much loved child or grandchild seated on a horse with a flowing mane and tail.

  ‘So, Grand-mère, what’s this all about?’ Simon asked after the others had gone. ‘You bought this?’

  ‘For you, chéri. I bought this for you.’

  ‘For me?’

  ‘For you. There was a carousel like this—in my youth at le cirque. Such a beautiful thing. The children, how they loved it.’ She stroked the peeling paint on a balloon. ‘When I saw this, I knew it was right to rescue it.’

  ‘You saw it? When? Where?’

  ‘Online, of course. I may be old, but I can operate a computer, you know.’

  Simon started to laugh. ‘Yes, you can. And of course you used it to buy a carousel.’

  He took a closer look at the disassembled awning panels, stacked against the wall of the shed. The paintwork was faded, but the images were still clear. ‘This won’t be hard.’ He was speaking more to himself than to Lucienne. ‘But the mechanics are going to need work. And I’m not a mechanic.’

  ‘This is a circus. Mechanics and maintenance we have,’ Lucienne said as she turned to leave the barn. ‘But you, cher Simon, you are the one who must bring the legends back to life.’

  He barely heard her. Already he was thinking of paint and varnish, of colours and mirrors. For the first time since the accident, he was thinking about the circus with joy.

  It shouldn’t be this hard. All Meg had to do was get into her car and drive out to that farm. She’d be safe, because there’d be a lot of people around. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t know Simon. Well, perhaps know was too strong a word. Running on opposite sides of an oval every morning was hardly knowing someone. But they had met. He seemed nice, and not at all threatening.

  You’d met him too … he was often at the school, and he didn’t seem threatening either. Until he was. Until you saw the knife.

  Meg silenced the voice inside her head. Maybe she’d do this tomorrow. There was no rush. She could do it any time. She could just go back inside her cottage, where she was safe, and phone to cancel the arrangements she’d made the day before. She’d tell the kids that he was too busy. Or hadn’t answered the phone. Or that she hadn’t been able to find the place.

  ‘Are you going to the circus place, Miss Walker?’

  She turned to see Jenny leaning on the fence. ‘Well, I’m not entirely sure where it is.’

  ‘If I come too, I could show you.’ Jenny opened the gate on the driveway and latched it so Meg could get her car out. ‘Can I? Please? I’d love to see … their camp.’

  That open gate taunted Meg. If she said no now, she’d have to explain why, and that would take her places she just didn’t want to go. Of course, if Jenny went with her, she wouldn’t be alone. That made her sound so pathetic, relying on a teenage student to give her the courage to do something she should be able to do without a second thought.

  ‘Come on, Miss Walker,’ Jenny said, standing beside the passenger door. ‘That looks like Aunt Alice down the end of the street. If she finds me, she’s sure to have something she wants me to do.’

  ‘And is there something you should be doing for her?’ Meg hesitated before pressing the unlock button on her keychain. The car beeped and flashed its lights.

  ‘No. No. Nothing really. It’s just every time she sees me, she wants me to do something.’

  Meg bit back a chuckle. ‘All right. Get in.’

  ‘Thanks, Miss Walker. You’re the best.’ Jenny didn’t waste a moment getting into the car and safely out of Aunt Alice’s view.

  Meg got behind the wheel, started the car and pulled out onto the road.

  All too soon, Jenny indicated a gate and long driveway leading to a cluster of buildings half hidden by trees.

  ‘There, Miss Walker. That’s it.’

  ‘Are yo
u sure?’

  ‘Of course. Everyone knows the old Connelly place.’

  There was no chance of backing out now. Meg turned down the driveway.

  The cluster of caravans and mobile homes was arranged in a neat circle, a short distance from the homestead. Quite a few people were moving around.

  ‘Here, Miss Walker. Stop here!’ Jenny’s voice bubbled and she took hold of the door as if ready to leap out while the car was still moving.

  ‘Settle down, Jenny. At least wait until I’ve parked the car.’

  By the time that had been accomplished, a youth about Jenny’s age was approaching. Jenny was out of the car in a second and talking to him.

  ‘Jenny?’

  ‘Oh, Miss Walker, this is Finn. He’s an acrobat.’

  ‘Hello, Finn. How do the two of you know each other?’

  ‘We met in town.’

  ‘I see. Well, Finn, we’re looking for Simon Coates. Could you help us?’

  ‘Sure. He’s over in that shed.’ Finn pointed, and Meg noticed the tattoo on his arm. She didn’t like tattoos. She had memories associated with tattoos—and they weren’t good ones.

  ‘Thank you. Come on, Jenny.’

  ‘I thought I could go with Finn and have a look around.’

  Jenny’s pleading look drew Meg’s attention to the fact that the girl was wearing makeup. Just a hint of colour on her lips, and mascara to highlight her eyes. Her tight jeans and stylish shirt were a little bit too much for casual afternoon wear around the house. Meg looked from Jenny to Finn and back again. Now she understood, and while she had sympathy for the girl, there was no way she was letting Jenny go off with Finn, for both the girl’s sake and her own.

  ‘I could show you where Simon is,’ Finn offered.

  ‘Cool.’ Jenny’s face broke into a smile.

  The three of them crossed the camping area. When they walked into the big shed, it took a few moments for Meg’s eyes to adjust to the darkness after the bright light outside. Strange dark shapes at the rear of the building gradually became familiar.

  Jenny almost squealed. ‘It’s a carousel.’

  And what a carousel it was. Despite it being disassembled and showing signs of age, Meg could see it was something special. The memories that came flooding back this time were good ones. They held joy and laughter and sunshine, and the feeling of safety that came to a small girl when holding her father’s hand.

  ‘A carousel used to come to Bondi when I was small.’ Meg spoke softly, as if she was alone. ‘My dad would take me down there for a ride.’

  ‘And did you choose a horse, or some other creature?’ A man emerged from the side of the shed, where the carousel awnings were lined up in an orderly fashion.

  ‘Oh, hello, Simon.’ Meg was so entranced by what she was seeing her heart forgot to jump at his sudden appearance. ‘Always the horses. I was a little girl. Little girls always want a pony. I was no different.’

  ‘Well, we have a few horses here,’ Simon said. ‘And one who is rather special.’

  Meg followed his pointing finger. ‘It’s a unicorn!’

  The creature looked a little sad. The paint was peeling from his saddle and his golden horn had faded to a dull cream. But the unicorn’s head was still high, his faded hooves poised as if to leap into a swift gallop. ‘He’s lovely.’

  ‘He needs a new coat of paint, but yes, I think he is quite special. The whole carousel is. It’s a double decker.’

  Meg studied the carousel more carefully. She could see what Simon meant. An illustration on part of one awning showed what she imagined the carousel would look like when restored. ‘I’ve never seen a double-decker carousel before.’

  ‘There are very few about. This one is a genuine Victorian build.’

  ‘And you’re going to restore it?’

  ‘Yes. Lucienne, my grandmother, bought it. She thought I needed a project.’

  Meg wondered why. Perhaps it had something to do with his limp. But she understood. People had tried to get her involved in projects too, after the attack. Her therapist. Her parents. Her friends. Part of the reason she’d left Sydney was that they couldn’t understand that a project was not the answer. She didn’t ask Simon why he needed a project. She knew how hard it was to cope with questions—and sympathy—from strangers. When he was ready, he’d tell her. Just like one day she would tell … someone. When she was ready.

  ‘It’s wonderful. All the mythical creatures.’

  Simon brushed dust carefully from the top of a giant seashell with a mermaid already in residence, her tail carefully curved to create a seat for a small child.

  ‘Yes, and scenes from literature. There’s Verne’s balloon. And the Nautilus of course.’

  ‘And look, is that Dracula?’ Meg moved to the nearby figure. ‘He doesn’t look very scary.’

  ‘That’s probably a good thing. We wouldn’t want to give the kids nightmares.’

  ‘No …’ Meg’s voice trailed off as she thought of her own nightmares. With a shock she realised that she and Simon were standing very close, their hands almost touching as they wiped the dust from Dracula’s cape. Simon’s hands were big and strong. There were calluses on them, no doubt from his circus work—whatever that was. They were capable hands. Hands that could heft a heavy load or pull a tent rope tight. Or hold someone as they struggled to break free …

  She stepped back and looked around. She and Simon were alone. ‘Where are Jenny and her friend?’

  Simon also looked around. ‘I guess they wandered off.’

  ‘I have to find her. I shouldn’t have left her alone. I’m responsible.’

  ‘Don’t worry. No-one will hurt her here. Finn is probably showing her around.’

  ‘I have to find her.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Meg hurried out of the shed. Almost immediately, she saw Jenny. The girl was tossing coloured balls in the air in an attempt to juggle. They fell to the ground, kicking up small spurts of dust, as both Jenny and the boy laughed.

  Meg felt a surge of relief.

  ‘If Finn’s trying to teach her to juggle, it’s going to take a while,’ Simon said. ‘Why don’t you come up to the house? We could have a cup of tea and talk about what we can do for the school. I know my grandmother would like to meet you.’

  ‘I don’t want to leave Jenny.’

  ‘If we sit on the veranda with our tea, you’ll be able to keep an eye on her.’

  They would, and she wouldn’t be trapped inside the house either. ‘That sounds all right.’

  ‘Good. Also, I should warn you about Lucienne. My grand-mère is a lovely lady, but she could talk the hind legs off a donkey.’

  CHAPTER

  15

  ‘I’ll never get this.’ Jenny picked up one of the balls, annoyed with herself that something Finn made seem so easy was beyond her.

  ‘It takes a lot of practice.’ Finn picked up the remaining balls scattered at her feet. He tossed them in the air with one hand.

  Jenny giggled. Then he dropped one of the balls and she laughed even louder. Finn blushed. He looked really cute when he blushed.

  ‘I want to show you something. Come on.’

  Jenny glanced over at the shed in time to see Miss Walker and Simon walking towards the house. They would never notice. She followed Finn to a smaller shed. Inside she saw three motorcycles, all with red flames painted on the fuel tanks. Something large was hidden under a tarpaulin beside the bikes.

  ‘Is that the motorcycle you were riding the other day?’

  Finn nodded. ‘Yep. This is the rest of the act.’

  Jenny stepped back a little as Finn pulled the tarp off what looked to be a disassembled cage. No, not a cage. All the parts were curved. The metal was black and thick and heavy. It looked very strong. Strong enough to hold the weight of a man—and a motorcycle.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘The Globe of Death.’

  ‘What’s that? It sounds awful.’

  ‘No.
It’s not. It’s exciting and the best act in the world. I could show you.’ Finn hesitated. ‘I don’t have a phone … do you?’

  ‘Sure.’ Jenny pulled hers out and checked the signal. It was strong enough. She opened Google and held it out to Finn.

  ‘It’s better if you do it.’

  ‘What shall I search for? Globe of Death?’

  Finn nodded. ‘Look for a video.’

  It seemed to take forever for the results to load. She found one and hit play. The screen was small, but it was big enough to show her two men on motorcycles roaring around the inside of a steel mesh globe like the one in front of her. At almost every moment, they seemed as if they would collide or crash. But they didn’t.

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Yeah. That’s what I want to do. What I am going to do.’ Finn’s face fell a little. ‘But my dad says I can’t. Family tradition. He says the Whelan family is all about acrobatics and making people laugh. Before he was ringmaster, he was a clown.’

  Jenny heard the disgust dripping from the word.

  ‘I don’t like clowns.’ She actually thought they were kinda fun, but if Finn didn’t like them, then she didn’t either. He smiled and she felt as if she was tingling all over.

  ‘My friends, the Mancini brothers, they have a motorcycle act. Dino is teaching me. He says I’m good.’

  ‘I bet you are.’

  ‘Do you want to come for a ride? Just around the property. I could show you where we practise.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Finn’s face broke into a broad grin, then he frowned.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘My father. He’ll be so pissed off if he sees me on the bike again.’

  ‘We don’t have to—’

  ‘No.’ Finn shook his head. ‘If you want to, we will.’ He took the handlebars of the motorcycle and wheeled it out of the shed. Jenny hadn’t noticed the other day in town, but the bike was slightly smaller than motorbikes she’d seen before. And something else about it was different. Maybe the size of the wheels, or the shape of the handlebars? She guessed it was something to do with riding inside the globe. And anyway, it didn’t matter, not when Finn swung his leg over the bike and indicated she should join him.