Hearts of Fire

by L.H. Cosway

  “Only a small bit. Don’t worry — I didn’t leave a bald patch.” He chuckled darkly.

  I didn’t know what to say, but I was momentarily appalled at how cavalierly he was taking all this.

  “I could sue you,” I said, and then instantly grimaced. I sounded like my mother. It was only hair, after all.

  He leaned in, and I thought I saw him bare his teeth for a second. “Go ahead, pumpkin.”

  He said “pumpkin” with all the disdain most people would put into the word “bitch.” I didn’t feel safe right then, so I quickly scrambled off the stage and returned to my seat. In all honesty, I felt a bit like going home and having a nice private little cry. Get all the fear and sexual frustration out, you know.

  “Have fun?” Lola asked when I reached her.

  “Oh, yeah. Big time. Thanks for offering me up for sacrifice, by the way,” I said, annoyed.

  She laughed loudly. “It’s the sexiest thing that’s happened to you all year, admit it.”

  I snorted. She was dead right, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of letting her know it. Forcing myself to get back into the show, I watched the rest of the acts. They included a contortionist named Violet whose eyes and hair matched her name. She had to be wearing contacts. There was also a husband and wife duo of lion tamers, two clowns, and a group of three stuntmen, two of whom stood on the shoulders of the third as he drove a scooter around the stage.

  By the time it was all over, I’d just about gotten past the adrenaline rush of having knives thrown at me. I watched as Delia and her girlfriends walked by, giving me snotty looks as they did so.

  “Shit, did you shag one of their boyfriends or something?” Lola asked, amused. I’d almost forgotten that she was still sitting next to me.

  “Nope. I think they might be jealous that I got to have a near-death experience and they didn’t,” I deadpanned.

  “Ah, I see. Near death at the hands of Jack McCabe is certainly something to envy,” she joked, and nudged me with her elbow.

  I laughed despite myself. Lola stood and gestured for me to follow. “Come on, you look like you could do with a drink.”

  I stood, and she linked her arm through mine. Again, her familiarity was odd, but I went with it. I kind of liked her oddness. She brought me through a side passage that led backstage, and I saw the three stuntmen packing up their equipment. Lola waved to them.

  “Hey, Lola, who’s your friend?” a short, handsome one called.

  “My friend is none of your business, Pedro, so you can stick your eyeballs back in their sockets,” Lola replied, and gave me a conspiratorial grin.

  “Pedro’s from Brazil,” she explained. “He always uses the accent to get women into bed. You don’t want a slice of that venereal-disease-ridden action, believe me.”

  “Oh,” I said, lost for words.

  She laughed. “Oh, my God, has anyone ever told you that you have the best facial expressions?”

  “Um, no,” I said while she opened a door and led me out the back of the tent. There were motor homes parked all about, two large trucks, and a big open-air gazebo with rows of tables and benches. Lots of the performers had gathered there, drinking and eating. Some people I didn’t recognise, but I guessed they were the ones who worked behind the scenes. It must take a good deal of manpower to set up the tent and transport everything from one location to the next.

  Lola was still linking me by the arm when she brought me to a table where Marina sat with Jack and the husband and wife lion tamers.

  “Everybody, I want you to meet my new friend, Lille,” Lola announced, pushing me forward to sit in the empty space beside Jack and directly across from Marina. I felt kind of buzzed to be sitting next to him, but was disappointed when he didn’t acknowledge me.

  The red-haired ringmaster (mistress?) smiled. “We’ve already met. Nice to see you again, Lille. How’s the hand?”

  I touched my good hand to the bandage and shrugged. “Sore.”

  She nodded and introduced the lion tamers. “This is Winnie and Antonio, and you know Jack.”

  I smiled politely at Winnie and Antonio. Lola poured some red wine into a plastic cup for me and I took it, murmuring my thanks.

  “Hi, everyone,” I said, feeling stupid, mainly due to Jack’s silence. What was his problem? He was flexing and releasing his hand repeatedly, like he wanted to hit something. I took a sip of wine and tried not to look at him anymore. It was difficult, since he was so flipping beautiful, and as an artist I was drawn to memorising beautiful things.

  “Give me your good hand, Lille,” said Marina, interrupting my thoughts.

  I lifted it from my lap, and she took it into her soft, wrinkled fingers. I loved how they felt. Marina had a kind of maternal warmth about her that I’d always longed for in my own mother. And she had a twinkle in her eye that reminded me so much of Gran.

  She smoothed her fingers over my palm. “You’ve got a good distinctive life-line here. See how it’s deeply indented? It indicates a certain quality — you’ll do lots of living.”

  “You read palms?” I asked, even though the answer was blatantly obvious.

  She nodded. “Learned it from my grandmother, the mad old coot.”

  I smiled.

  “How long have you been an artist?” she asked, noting the dried paint stuck under my fingernails.

  “Ever since I was little. Funny coincidence, just like your gran taught you to read palms, my gran taught me how to paint,” I answered. I thought I could sense Jack looking at me then, but since I was determined not to make eye contact with him again, I couldn’t be sure.

  “You should come to France with us,” Marina went on, like it was a perfectly natural continuation of what we’d just been talking about.

  “Um, I don’t….”

  “You can do your face painting with the children. The punters will love it, and you’ll make enough money to live off of. I’ve been meaning to set up something fun for the kids before they come in to see the show. What do you say?”

  “France?” I said, blinking, heart racing. This night was moving way too fast for me. It was confusing.

  “We’re leaving by ferry at nine in the morning, so you’ll have to make a decision soon.”

  “Oh, my God! You have to come,” Lola put in. “I’ve been dying for someone new to hang out with, and Violet’s so bloody annoyed with me all the time. Oh, oh! You could sleep in our camper. We’ve got a spare bed.”

  “Shouldn’t you consult Violet about that first?” said Jack, finally speaking.

  Lola waved him off. “Pffft, she’ll be fine with it so long as Lille doesn’t get in her way.”

  “Violet’s the contortionist?”

  “And just about the crankiest woman ever to grace the earth. Seriously, Lille, you’ll be doing me a huge favour. I’m gonna crack if I don’t get a new roommate soon.”

  I was flabbergasted. “None of you even know me.”

  “Ah, but you’ve got the heart of a traveller,” said Marina. “I can see it in those stormy grey eyes. And that’s good enough for me.”

  “Look at you,” said Lola, wearing the biggest smile I’d ever seen. She was all lips and teeth. “You’re dying to say yes, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I’d have to run it past my mother first,” I said, eyes downcast, and I heard Jack make a sound of derision. “And I have my summer job at the restaurant in town.” Why was I being hesitant? This offer was my hot air balloon ready and waiting to bring me on an adventure, and yet I was making excuses. I think I was just suspicious of the randomness of it all. Plus, the sad fact was that I’d probably have said yes right away if it weren’t for Jack. He clearly didn’t want me around, and I’d just end up feeling awkward every time I saw him. I wasn’t sure how obvious it was to him that I fancied him something rotten. Perhaps that was the reason for his disdain. He didn’t enjoy being ogled by some dumb girl. He probably had a girlfriend. Probably had several.

  “I’m going to g
o find Violet and ask her what she thinks. She’ll say no, of course, but I’ll talk her around,” said Lola, rising from her seat with a wink.

  “The men are taking down the tent tonight so that we can leave first thing in the morning,” said Marina. “You’d better go home and start packing.”

  “I haven’t agreed to come yet,” I replied.

  She only smiled and pursed her lips, a glint in her eye. “Haven’t you?”

  Winnie gave me an encouraging look, and Antonio told me I’d have a great time if I came. As expected, Jack said nothing. Still, the encouragement of the others spurred me on and I rose, determined to go home and tell Mum I was going to France. I felt like I was walking through a dream. Who makes an offer to some random girl to join their circus? It was crazy, and I was happily drowning in the madness.

  Gran would have been proud. She’d had Mum late in life, and before that she’d travelled the world, met with some amazing people. Even though I was only ten when she passed, she’d already made a powerful impression on me. I wanted to be just like her. She was strong in a way Mum wasn’t, strong through love and kindness rather than cruelty and control.

  I said goodbye to everyone and made my way out of the gazebo. Just as I turned in the direction of town, a strong hand gripped my arm, and I yelped. Aside from a few dim street lights, it was dark out here, and mostly everyone was gone now.

  I turned, and my heart stuttered when I found Jack standing behind me, his dark eyebrows drawn into a frown.

  “You shouldn’t come,” he said, voice low.

  “Let go of me,” I complained, feeling nervous and trying to pull my arm from his grasp. When he realised how tight his grip was, his eyes widened, and he dropped my arm. I turned and began walking again, more speedily this time, wanting to get away from him. No matter how hot he was, I didn’t trust being alone on a dark road with a strange man.

  I could hear his steady, booted pace behind me, and I didn’t know why he was following me. My skin prickled with apprehension, and I pulled my phone out of my bag, pretending to dial my mum and proceeding to carry out a one-sided conversation.

  “Hi, Mum, it’s me. I’m on my way home now. Yeah. I’m on Frederick Street. See you in a minute.”

  I’m not sure why I thought letting Jack know that someone was waiting for me would deter him from harming me, but it was the only thing I could think of, and I didn’t have anything on me that could be used as a weapon. Plus, I couldn’t actually call my mother, since I’d sneaked out to go to the circus and she thought I was still in my room, tucked up safely in bed.

  His deep chuckle sounded from behind me as I slid my phone back into my bag.

  “Would you like to make a fake call to the police as well?” he asked in amusement.

  I scowled and stopped walking, spinning around on him. “It wasn’t fake. And why the hell are you following me anyway?” My voice came out high-pitched and frightened. I hated how I sounded.

  “Do you always walk home alone at night?” He was frowning again.

  “That’s none of your business. Now, please stop following me. It’s creepy.”

  He took a step forward, closing the distance between us. “I’m making sure you get home safe. Don’t be so ungrateful. How much farther is your house?”

  The way he spoke made me feel scolded. I looked back and forth between his eyes, trying to decipher if he was being honest. All I got in return was his smouldering dark gaze and neither honesty nor dishonesty. He was like a vault, locked up tight. I was never going to be able to read him.

  “You could have told me that in the first place. Don’t you know it’s weird to just randomly start following someone?”

  He slowly blinked at me and repeated his question. “How much farther is your house?”

  “We’re almost there. I’ll be fine from here. I’m sorry for snapping at you,” I said, and began walking again. He kept up the pace beside me. I sighed.

  “I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’d rather you not know where I live. For my own peace of mind, you understand?”

  He tilted his head down at me, a quizzical look on his face, which made me feel like I needed to explain further.

  “You’re a stranger. A kind of scary-looking stranger, if I’m being honest, no offence. So leading you right to where I live would be dumb, right?”

  He almost smiled, and wow, when Jack McCabe almost smiled, it really was something to behold. I wasn’t sure I could handle a full one. “I’m good scary, Lille. The kind that frightens off bad scary.”

  I was surprised that he’d remembered my name. I’m not sure what possessed me to say what I did next, and I regretted it instantly. “Pinky promise you’re not a psycho killer?” I held out my little finger to him, and he simply stared at it.

  “I’m not a psycho killer.”

  Feeling stupid, I dropped my hand and considered his answer. Perhaps he was trying to be nice and make sure I got home safe. Then another idea struck me. Was he interested in walking me home because he wanted sex? I looked at him as he strode along, gaze straight ahead. It was almost like he’d read my thoughts, because he turned to me then, his voice deep and husky. “If I wanted to fuck you, you’d know about it.”

  I shivered. I didn’t think a man had ever referred to fucking me before, which was sad. And it was even sadder that the first time it happened it was a man referring to the fact that he didn’t want to. I let out a long breath and tried not to let my feelings be hurt.

  Tugging my coat tighter around myself as we reached my street, I told him, “Well, you don’t mince your words, do you?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t see the point.”

  “Okay. I’m home now. You’ve done your duty.” I opened my garden gate and stepped inside.

  He called after me. “Remember what I said, Lille. You shouldn’t come with us. You think it’s going to be all fun and games, running away with the circus, but it’s not. It’s hard work with little sleep and shit pay. It’s for people who don’t have homes and mothers who worry about them. It’s not the life for you.”

  “I’m not trying to make it my life, Jack. And I never even said I was coming.”

  “Good. Don’t.”

  “I can make my own decisions.”

  “So make the right one.”

  We stared at each other for a long time, almost like we were having a stand-off. I felt triumphant when he was the one to walk away first.

  ***

  I didn’t sleep a wink that night. When I got to my room, I sat on my bed, rubbing my hands back and forth over the blanket, my mind racing. I was nearly out of time. I had to make a decision. I mean, running away with the circus was all rainbows and lollipops in theory, but what if I couldn’t hack the reality? I had about four hundred euros in savings to my name and little else. Would I make enough money painting faces to get by?

  I was such a coward. The danger was what I wanted. Adventure was something I craved. I had to quit worrying. Steely determination came over me as I pulled out my suitcase and began packing. Of course, I didn’t quite get over all of my fear, as instead of telling Mum in person, I decided to leave her a note. Yeah, I was that type of gutless wonder. But my mother was scary in a way that few people understood. I wasn’t sure there’d ever be a time when her disappointment wouldn’t cut me to the quick.

  I was twenty-one. A fully grown woman. I didn’t need her permission to do anything anymore.

  Now all I had to do was convince myself to believe it.

  She was going to blow a gasket when she found my letter. I was hoping I’d be on a ferry halfway to France by the time that happened. I sealed the letter in an envelope and set it down on my dresser. I managed to squeeze the majority of my clothes into my suitcase, and I threw a small duffel with my sleeping bag in it over my shoulder. I wasn’t quite sure what my sleeping arrangements were going to be.

  If worst came to worst, I could sleep on somebody’s floor, right?

  I was still wearing the sam
e outfit as the night before when I quietly slipped out of my house at seven in the morning. I could hear Mum moving around in her room, so I knew she’d just woken up. Thankfully, I managed to get out before she noticed. As I hurried down the street, my heart pumped a mile a minute. I loved the thrill of feeling like I was getting away from her. Freeing myself from the prison of quiet desperation I’d been living in.

  When I got into town, I stopped by an ATM machine and withdrew all of my savings, shoving the notes into my duffle. I called my boss Nelly and explained to her that I wouldn’t be able to work for the rest of the summer. She gave me hell and told me not to come looking for a reference, which I’d expected, but I winced as she spoke angrily down the line all the same.

  When I got to the circus, it wasn’t a circus anymore. The entire thing had been packed away, presumably in one of the large cargo trucks. All that was left was a field full of camper vans. Marina sat on a step outside her motor home, sipping from a mug of coffee and smoking a cigarette, while Pierre sat on her lap, making cute little noises.

  “I’ve been expecting you,” she said, eyes smiling.

  I was out of breath when I stopped by her and leaned against the side of the van. I felt like I’d been running ever since I left my house. My heart was still pounding. Mum could be reading my letter right this moment. I could just imagine the vein in her forehead throbbing in outrage.

  “You sure you still want me along?” I asked, and she laughed.

  “Of course I do, sweetheart. Wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t. I’ve been watching you work in that restaurant all week, and I know a girl desperate for travel when I see one. You’ll fit right in with us here.”

  When Pierre saw me, he jumped off Marina’s lap and came ambling towards me.

  “He’s adorable,” I said.

  “Don’t let the innocent little face fool you,” said Marina. “He’s as shrewd as they come, is my Pierre.” I knew she was telling the truth when Pierre climbed up onto my shoulder, reached down, and pulled an old bus ticket from the breast pocket of my coat. I laughed as he hopped off with his loot, then disappeared inside Marina’s camper.

  She stubbed out her smoke just as the door to a smaller camper opened and Lola walked out. She rubbed sleep from her eyes, still wearing her pyjamas. “Lille! You came! OMG, I’m so happy right now,” she said, and pulled me into a tight hug.