by L.H. Cosway
I think Marina must have seen the bewildered look on my face when she said, “Our Lola gets attached fast when she likes someone. It’s just her way.”
“Yeah, and my way is fucking awesome! Let’s get these bags of yours inside, and I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
I followed her as she led me into her camper van. It was really small and had a kitchenette, and a tiny living area with an equally tiny TV. One door led to a bathroom. The other was closed and led to Violet’s room, Lola explained, and then the final one led to Lola’s room, which I discovered I’d be sharing with her. There was about a foot of space between the two narrow beds. It was tidy in a messy sort of way. The beds were made, but Lola had stuffed all of her clothes under them. There wouldn’t be much room for my things, but I didn’t mind. I’d just live out of my suitcase.
“So, Violet agreed that you could stay. This van belongs to her, unfortunately, so she makes the rules. You’ll have to pay her sixty euros a week in rent, but you’ll make that easily on show nights. All of her food goes in the cupboard to the left and all of ours goes in the cupboard to the right. We get one shelf in the fridge, and she gets two. If you give Marina forty euros a week you can eat in the gazebo with the rest of us for most of your meals. Oh, and don’t use any of the toiletries in the bathroom because they all belong to Violet, and she’ll go cray-cray if you take anything. I keep all my stuff in a bag and bring it with me when I shower. Keeps things simpler. So yeah, she’s a fucking dictator, but you’ll learn to live with it. Hey, perhaps me and you could save and get a camper of our own. That’d be cool!”
I laughed. This girl was mental, but I liked it. “Sure, I’ll just buy a lottery ticket, shall I?” I joked.
“Ha -ha,” she deadpanned, and pulled out a smart phone, fingers gliding across the screen so fast they were almost a blur. “Okay, I’m going to include you in our ferry ticket. Have you got cash?”
I nodded and rummaged in my bag, pulling out some folded notes. Lola took them and finished up the booking. “Great, we’re all sorted. You want to sit up front with me while I drive?”
I told her I would, and followed her to the front of the van. I looked out the window and saw Jack helping to load equipment into one of the trucks. It looked heavy, whatever it was, and the way he worked made me feel all fizzy inside. When he was done, he rubbed his hands on his jeans, looking about the field. My heart thudded when he spotted me sitting in the passenger seat while Lola looked over a map. He seemed pissed off when he saw me. Obviously, I hadn’t taken his advice not to come. I saw him stomp over to the camper that must have been his and slam the door shut.
Before I knew it, we were off. Lola informed me that we’d be sailing from Rosslare to a place called Cherbourg in France, and that the ferry journey would take almost an entire day. Violet, the contortionist, came out of her room, said a grumpy hello to me, shook my hand, and then went to make herself some coffee.
“A woman of few words,” Lola whispered to me as she drove.
“And excellent hearing,” Violet called to her. “Seriously, I think you forget how depressingly small this place is sometimes.”
When we got to the ferry, we parked the camper below deck and got out. Some people had rented cabins to sleep in, but, like me, most had simply booked seats. I was starving, so I went to buy some breakfast before finding the lounge. It was a cosy room with big cushioned seats. Most people were either sleeping or talking quietly. There were even pillows and blankets if you wanted to take a nap.
I saw Lola waving to me from where she sat beside Violet, who was listening to music on her headphones. I took my seat with them and tucked into my food. I was sleepy when I finished eating, since I hadn’t slept the night before, and I was losing the battle to keep my eyes open….
I didn’t know how long I’d been out when I woke up because someone was pushing my head off their shoulder. I rubbed my eyes and blinked, seeing Jack staring down at me. Seemingly, he’d booked the seat right next to mine, and I’d clearly just been trying to cuddle up to him.
How embarrassing.
Three
A king fell down who wore no crown
“Sorry,” I mumbled, and drew away as far as I possibly could, being that our seats were side by side. I noticed that somebody had covered me with a blanket, but it must’ve been Lola. My skin prickled as I wondered how long I’d been resting my head on Jack’s shoulder. Had it been seconds or hours? I was willing to bet seconds, considering he was roughly shoving me off him.
“I told you not to come. Why didn’t you listen to me?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, a subtle edge to his words.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Dad. I forgot you had a say in what I do with my life. Please accept my humblest apologies,” I said, heavy on the sarcasm. On the inside, my feelings were hurt. I didn’t need him to be worshipping at my feet¸ but the least he could do was be civilised.
His lips twitched as he arched an eyebrow at me. “So, the little princess wants to slum it for a while. Okay, then. Just don’t come crying to me when it all goes to shit.”
“Why would I come crying to you? I don’t even know you,” I said, and got up from my seat. Both Violet and Lola were gone. I felt kind of grimy and needed a change of clothes, so I grabbed the small bag I had with me and went to find the showers. I felt a million times better by the time I was done, and when I went back to my seat, I found Jack had left. And really, I was relieved. The man made me feel all weird and jittery in a way I thought I could become obsessed with.
Becoming obsessed with Jack McCabe wouldn’t be healthy for me. It’d be like having a crush on a movie star. They were strutting the red carpet, and you were huddled in the gutter. Deciding to stretch my legs, I went for a walk about the ferry, saying hello to Winnie and Antonio and their two daughters, Carrie and Orla. Apparently, they home schooled them while the circus travelled. I thought that must be such an unusual way to grow up, in equal measures difficult and wonderful.
When I reached the doorway that led out onto the deck, I pushed through and was met with a violent gust of wind, my shoulder-length hair going flying all over the place. It was still wet from the shower, so I considered it an unusual sort of blow-dry.
I stared out at the waves and the endless sea that surrounded me, feeling a momentary flutter of pure freedom, and man, did it feel good.
Somebody swore profusely from behind me, and I turned to find Jack trying to light a cigarette. The wind wasn’t doing him any favours, and he couldn’t get the flame to stay lit. Not wanting him to see me, I began walking swiftly in the opposite direction. I didn’t get far when he was suddenly behind me. He looped his finger through my belt and practically dragged me to the corner he’d been standing in.
“What the fu….”
“Stay still,” he ordered. “I need you to block the wind.”
I didn’t have any snappy comebacks, so I simply stood there, amazed by his gruffness. Hadn’t anyone ever taught him simple manners? When I looked at him, I thought that maybe they hadn’t. I could easily imagine him as a little Mowgli type, being raised by animals in the jungle.
He flicked the lighter and finally got the smoke lit. Inhaling deeply, then exhaling, he watched me all the while. I shivered, and not from the cold. I felt like there was an atmosphere between us, but it was more than likely all on my end. I was good at imagining things, especially sexual tension. And I was well-acquainted with the one-sided kind.
“Are my services required further, sir?” I asked with a hint of sass. I mean, I’d been his wind-blocker, and he hadn’t even said thanks.
Just like last night, he almost smiled, and I hated that it was wondrous. I could have painted an entire mural of his jaw line alone. He flicked off the ash and leaned back against the wall behind him.
“So, you’re staying with Lola?”
“Yes, and Violet.”
“That’ll be fun.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Are
you?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re weird.”
He took a step forward and stared down at me, teeth flashing as he spoke. “And I bet I could make you like it.”
If anyone else had said this to me, I would have thought they were flirting, but not with this guy. No, with this guy it sounded more like a taunt. I narrowed my gaze at him, deciding I was done with this encounter and my unrequited attraction, and returned to the lounge. I checked my phone for the time, relieved that I couldn’t get a signal out here. I’d bet Mum was wearing a hole on her dialling pad trying to get in touch with me. I had my fingers crossed that by the time I got to France, she’d have calmed down. If my estimations were correct, we had another eight hours of sailing to do. I pulled a sketch pad out of my bag and began to draw the family sitting in front of me. A little kid played with an iPad while the mother snoozed and the father perused a newspaper. I was so lost in the drawing that I didn’t hear Lola when she came to sit beside me.
“You’re really good,” she commented, and it made me smile. At home my art was always something I had to sneak and hide. I never really got to show it to people, so I appreciated her compliment more than she might have guessed.
“Thanks.”
The hours passed slowly, and when we finally arrived in Cherbourg, I was so ready to set foot on solid ground. It wasn’t to be, though, as we had another hour and a half drive to Caen, where the circus would be stopping to do a week of shows. It was just after two in the morning, so my first impressions of France were shrouded in darkness. When we reached the site where we’d be spending the next week, it was starting to get bright. I was amazed when the men began immediately setting up the Spiegeltent. Where did they get their energy come from? Perhaps they’d slept for most of the ferry journey.
I spread my sleeping bag out on the bed and crawled into it, deciding I’d get a couple hours of sleep in. Lola was already there, snoring away. Sharing a tiny room with this girl was definitely going to be an experience.
When I woke up, it was mid-morning, and two men were helping Violet connect the camper van to the water and electricity mains on the site. I recognised Pedro, who winked at me (I think because I hadn’t put on a bra yet), and one of the other stuntmen. Lola had told me on the ferry that his name was Luan. I thought she might have a thing for him because she gushed a little about what a nice guy he was. He was tall, with tightly cut dark hair and brown eyes.
Apparently, the circus didn’t do any shows on Mondays or Tuesdays, because those were usually travelling days where they moved from one site to the next. That gave me a day to find my bearings.
Violet surprised me when she smiled and told me there was coffee inside if I wanted some. I poured myself a cup and took a walk. The newest host to the circus looked like some sort of camping site that was surrounded by trees and greenery on either side. I thought that we must have been situated just outside of town and wondered if we were within walking distance. I would need to buy food and some toiletries soon.
Sitting on the grass, I pulled out my phone to find that Mum had tried to call me a grand total of twenty-five times and left eleven voicemails. The very idea made my stomach twist, so I decided to put off listening to them for a while. Instead, I spent a few minutes reading up on Caen. Everything had happened so quickly that I’d hardly had time to research where I was actually going. The frenzied decision to come here made me feel dizzy with glee. I was breaking free from the monotony my life had been, and it felt glorious.
It turned out that Caen was in Normandy and was the largest city in the region. The pictures that came up showed some beautiful architecture, and I got excited just thinking about going exploring. Perhaps I’d meet a handsome Frenchman, he’d tell me I was beautiful, and we’d enjoy a whirlwind romance. Of course, it would all end in heartbreak when I had to move on to the next city. The idea was surprisingly appealing. I wanted to get my heart broken. I wanted to live through every high and low, because otherwise I wouldn’t be living.
I rummaged in the back pocket of my jeans and pulled out my list to add one more item. Grabbing the sketching pencil that was perennially tucked behind my ear, I scribbled down number eleven.
11. Get my heart broken.
Coincidentally, Jack was walking by, lugging a crate of water bottles, just as I finished writing. He glanced at me, then at the paper in my hand. I quickly folded it up and shoved it back in my pocket, sheepish. Jack McCabe was certainly the heart-breaking type. Unfortunately, I didn’t think I had a chance of getting close enough to him in order to have my heart broken. Oh, well. If worst came to worst, there was always Pedro.
Jack frowned and continued on his way. He was always frowning at me.
Marina called me over to her camper then and offered me a croissant for breakfast. I took it gladly.
“Tell me, Lille,” she said as I sat in the kitchen of her overly frilly motorhome. I swear to God, she had doilies on everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had them hanging over her toilet seat, to be perfectly honest. “Are you any good with numbers?”
“Numbers?” I asked.
“Okay, so I may have had an ulterior motive for asking you to join us.”
The phrase “ulterior motive” sounded positively thrilling to me, so I smiled and nodded for her to continue.
“You see, I heard your boss thanking you for helping her out with her accounts while I was in the restaurant last week. And I desperately need someone to help me with mine. King usually does it, but he’s been hitting the bottle more and more lately, so I can’t rely on him. Do you think you could have a look at the circus’ finances? Clean up the numbers for me?”
Okay, maybe not so thrilling, then. I had no idea who King was, and I didn’t ask. “Oh right. Well, I study business at college. I hate it, really, but accounting is probably the part I hate the least. I’m reluctantly good at it. So yeah, I’d be happy to look over your accounts for you if that’s what you’d like.”
Marina smiled widely. “I’d definitely like that.”
And that was how I spent the rest of my day, holed up in Marina’s camper, working on spreadsheets. It was a twisted sort of joke. I’d run away with the circus in order to escape all this, and here I was doing exactly what I was trying to get away from. Still, the familiarity of the task soothed me while I tried to get used to the fact that I definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
It turned out that the Circus Spektakulär was actually raking in a decent profit; however, the records of those profits were an out-and-out mess. I still had a lot of tidying up to do, but I told Marina I’d continue working on it tomorrow morning. For now, I needed something to eat and some sleep.
It was starting to get dark when I found Violet and Lola back at our camper. They were sitting on folding chairs outside, eating noodles and drinking wine while listening to the soundtrack from Les Miserables.
Before I could feel awkward about asking for food, Lola told me to help myself to the last of the noodles in the pot. There wasn’t a third folding chair, so I sat on the grass and hungrily shovelled down the noodles in my bowl. They were drowned in some sort of soy sauce that tasted delicious, probably because I was starving.
“I heard Jack and Marina arguing today in the gazebo,” Violet said, breaking the companionable silence we’d been sharing. She was looking at me, and I didn’t know why.
“Oh, juicy gossip. Do you think they’re having a sordid sugar momma/boy toy love affair?” Lola asked with intrigue, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Violet narrowed her eyes at Lola. “Don’t be disgusting.”
“What? Those two spend an inordinate amount of time together.”
“That’s because she’s, like, his substitute mother figure or something,” Violet said before giving me a pointed look. “And no, they were actually arguing about you, Lille.”
I almost choked on a noodle. “Me?”
“Yep. Jack was giving Marina hell for i
nviting you to join us. He said we didn’t need the dead weight. Marina defended you. She said you were hardly dead weight since you were fixing her accounts for her.”
I hated to admit it, but hearing that upset me a little. “He called me dead weight?”
“Jesus, Violet, have a little tact, would you?” said Lola, elbowing her roughly in the side.
“It’s okay — I’d rather know the truth. And I’m not surprised. He’s been mean to me since we first met.”
“Don’t take offence,” Lola told me in a soothing voice. “We’ve got a lot of abrasive characters around here, as you can probably tell.” She tilted her head to Violet, who was looking the other way and didn’t see her. “Besides, Jack McCabe’s always had a reputation for being slightly…eccentric.”
That piqued my curiosity. “How so?”
“I’ve just heard that he’s a bit of a kinky bastard. You know, into all that bondage shit.”
“Those are lies,” said Violet. “Jack’s a good guy. People just like to make stuff up to entertain themselves.” She took a sip of her wine.
“And then there’s what happened to Vera. Nobody knows who did it. It could very well have been Jack,” Lola went on, her voice hushed.
Violet seemed to shudder. “Let’s not talk about that. And being into bondage doesn’t make you a rapist, Lola. For Christ’s sake.”
My heart hammered at that, and now I needed to know more. “Who’s Vera?”
Lola looked to Violet. “She should know, Vi.”
“Fine, tell her.” Violet waved her away and concentrated on her wine glass.
Lola sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, so, up until about two years ago, we used to do some late-night adult-only shows. Vera was a burlesque dancer. People loved her. She was amazing at what she did. Then one day she just disappeared. She didn’t take any of her stuff with her, so we knew something bad had happened. The police got involved, and then two weeks later they found her body buried in the woods. She’d been raped and beaten to death. Needless to say, Marina put a stop to the adult-only shows after that.”