I shivered again, because I had just had my eighth birthday (a sad affair, with no presents, though Mary-Martha sang me a song and bought me a bun with pink icing). I had managed to fool everyone else. Even my own family forgot my real age at times. But this man’s grey eyes seemed able to look into my soul. There was no hiding the truth from him.
I hung my head, letting my hair fall over my face to hide it.
‘Ah, it’s such a pretty little fairy too, with those golden tresses,’ he said, running his free hand through my locks. He did it gently, so I could barely feel it, but I’d rather he’d struck me. I wriggled desperately, but he still had me tight by the wrist. My whole arm was starting to throb now.
‘Please, Mister, I want my dolly!’ I said, pointing to Maybelle, lolling on the ground.
‘Oh, it wants its little dolly-wolly!’ said Mister mockingly. I thought he might just let me go for a moment so that I could pick up Maybelle – and then make a run for it. But he wasn’t prepared to release me for a second. He reached out and gave Maybelle a nimble kick. She flew up into the air and hit me on the chest. I was so startled I couldn’t catch her with my free hand.
‘Butterfingers!’ said Mister, doing his footballing trick again. He was muddying poor Maybelle’s dress. I clutched her to me this time, desperate to save her from further damage.
The crowd had ebbed away, off to jostle their way around the busy market. The hurdy-gurdy man was squatting with his back to us, counting the pennies in his bowl. Jacko jerked his head and capered towards me, chattering curiously. I held out my free hand to him and cried, ‘Jacko, Jacko – here, Jacko.’ I had a wild hope that he would sense danger from this man and attack him. I’d seen the monkey jump right up on a man’s head and tug his hair viciously, and he frequently bit little children if they tried to pet him.
Jacko looked as if he meant business now, his teeth bared – but my captor stood his ground. He clicked his tongue in an odd way and pointed straight at Jacko. The animal suddenly cowered away, very still in his little velvet jacket, and then scampered back to his perch by the hurdy-gurdy, whining.
‘What’s up with you, you little brute?’ said the hurdy-gurdy man, hauling himself up.
‘Oh, please help me!’ I called weakly. I did not care for him and I knew he cheated me out of half my takings – but I wasn’t afraid of him the way I feared this sinister man.
‘Is he your pa?’ the man asked as he came lumbering over.
‘I’m her employer,’ said the hurdy-gurdy man. ‘And I’ll thank you to take your hands off her.’
‘I’m simply admiring the little sweetheart,’ he said, not at all perturbed.
‘You like her, do you?’ The hurdy-gurdy man scratched the top of his head thoughtfully. ‘How’s about you pays an extra shilling and I’m sure she’ll put on another performance.’
‘No, I don’t want to,’ I said, struggling.
‘You’ll do as I say,’ said the hurdy-gurdy man.
‘So you’re her employer, are you?’ said Mister. ‘She’s signed up to you?’
‘In a manner of speaking.’
‘Mmm – speaking isn’t binding, sir. So this little fairy’s as free as a bird and can fly away wherever she wants.’
‘I don’t want to be with you,’ I told Mister.
‘Hark at her! Funny, wilful little creature! She’ll be stamping her foot next,’ he said, and laughed at me, showing his yellow teeth. ‘I like a little soul with spirit.’
Then he suddenly lifted me up, tipping me, helpless and humiliated, over his shoulder. ‘Come along with me, little girl. Old Beppo has great plans for you!’
‘No, no, I don’t want to go with you! Oh, please, Mister, set me down. I haven’t got my share of my earnings!’ I cried.
‘Ah, a tiny businesswoman, bless her! Well, we’ll let this gentleman and his monkey pocket the pennies for today. You’ll earn us far more in the future, my dear,’ said the man, striding along as easily as if he had a little knapsack on his back instead of a wriggling child.
‘No, no, I won’t go!’ I said.
When he only chuckled, I opened my mouth wide and screamed as loud as I could. Folk stared at me, startled.
‘What are you doing with that little lass?’ a tall man asked anxiously.
‘He’s a wicked stranger and he’s running off with me!’ I gasped.
Mister heaved with laughter. ‘Hark at her, the naughty little minx! I’m a friend of the family and I’m taking her off the streets where she’s been running wild.’
‘Don’t listen to him – he’s lying! Oh, help me, help me!’ I screamed.
‘Is that you, Ellen-Jane?’
Oh dear Heavens, it was Pa! He stood there with his tray of tracts round his neck, here in the market.
‘Pa! Oh, Pa, save me!’ I screamed. ‘This wicked man is trying to steal me away.’
Pa set his tray down. He was a little stooped now, but he was still a tall man. His nose was red to start with, but now a fierce flush spread over his whole face, even his neck. ‘Put my child down,’ he said, his fists clenched.
My heart started thudding violently. Pa was calling me his child. He was about to snatch me back. It must mean he still cared about me a bit. Maybe he was ready to forgive me. I might even get to be his own baby darling again.
‘Certainly, sir,’ said Mister. He took me off his shoulder and set me down in front of Pa, though he kept a firm hold of my wrist.
‘So you’re this little angel’s father,’ he said. ‘Well, I’ll be blowed! You’re the very man I’ve been looking for.’ He was staring intently at Pa. I saw him taking in Pa’s dishevelled clothes, the sole flapping on his boots, his unshaven chin, his bloodshot eyes. I saw his nostrils quiver at the stale smell of ale that clung to his clothes.
‘You were looking for me?’ said Pa. ‘Unhand that child now.’ He made an ineffective grab for me, but Mister had a grip of iron.
‘I need to keep hold of her or the lovely little pet will make a bolt for it. She’s nervous now, but oh my goodness, sir, you should have seen her scarce ten minutes ago, prancing about like a little fairy – standing on her head and waggling her legs as bold as brass, bless her!’
I started trembling. ‘He’s lying, Pa! I tell you, he’s lying,’ I blurted, but I could not quite look Pa in the eye.
‘You’ve been cavorting again?’ he said very slowly, swaying slightly.
‘No! No, I swear!’
‘Oh, bless her! No need to be modest, little angel,’ said Mister. ‘Cavorting’s the very word, sir. Quite a little act, she has. A crowd of thirty or forty gathered round immediately. She attracted a great deal of attention. She’s a regular at the market now, and I reckon she earns as many pennies as the costers with their stalls – and she saves herself a dawn trip to Covent Garden.’
‘You’ve been cavorting for money, Ellen-Jane?’ said Pa, moving closer, bending his head down to mine.
‘No, Pa!’
‘Don’t you lie to me!’ he thundered.
‘Oh, the bad little angel! But don’t get angry, sir. You should be proud of the little pet. She’s very talented, you know. With a little training I reckon she could polish up into a fine circus act.’
‘A circus act!’ said Pa, whispering as if the very words burned his tongue.
‘I’m not a circus act, Pa! Please don’t look at me like that! I haven’t been a bad girl on purpose. I just did it to earn some money. We didn’t have anything to eat,’ I gabbled.
‘I’d sooner a girl of mine starved to death than tip herself upside down in public,’ said Pa. ‘What would your poor ma say, Ellen-Jane? Oh, she’s turning in her grave now, poor dear soul, in total agony.’
I saw Ma twisting about in her grim earthy bed, her mouth open wide in a silent scream. It was such a terrifying picture, the tears spurted down my cheeks.
‘So her mother’s dead, poor little lamb,’ said Mister. His grey eyes were gleaming now. ‘And you have the burden of bringing this
moppet up, sir, feeding and clothing her and trying to keep her on the paths of righteousness?’
‘Her and her elder sister and a little babe too. I have boys who went to the bad too, but I’ve apprenticed them out in the hope they’ll grow up God-fearing gentlemen to make their mother proud,’ said Pa.
Mister’s eyes shone like beacons now, burning in his pale face. ‘Why not apprentice this little lass then, my good sir? I can train her up good and proper, make a real showgirl of her. She’ll start earning pounds instead of pennies – and I dare say she’ll send half her earnings home to her dear old pa.’
‘Tainted money,’ said Pa, and he spat on the ground.
‘That’s your opinion, sir, and you’re entitled to it, but I’m sure the food and firewood it’ll buy will still warm you, body and soul,’ said Mister. ‘Did you not say you have another daughter and a babby to care for? Well, ease your burden, sir! Let me take charge of the little fairy here and she need never trouble you again.’
‘I’ll not let a wastrel like you ruin her – though I fear she’s already gone to the bad,’ Pa sighed.
‘Then let her go, sir, let her go.’ The man drew a notebook and a pencil out of his jacket pocket and scribbled a sentence. He spoke the words as he did so. ‘I – what is your name, sir . . .? Samuel Potts, I thank you! I, Samuel Potts, do agree to give full guardianship and care over my daughter . . . The little fairy’s name is Ellen-Jane, I believe? My daughter Ellen-Jane to Mr Silas Bernhardt. That’s yours truly, though my stage name is Beppo.’
‘You can stop this fooling. I’m not signing my daughter away,’ said Pa.
‘For the sum of . . . Now, what would be a fair sum? How about five pounds? That’s almost a year’s wages for a full grown woman, a tidy amount. Think what you might buy with it.’ Mister lowered his voice. ‘You look careworn, sir, down on your luck. Think what tempting pleasures you could buy, all the while knowing that this little darling is safe and happy and earning her keep, all the better to keep you into a ripe old age.’
‘Five pounds in cash?’ said Pa.
‘No, Pa! Oh, please, no, I don’t want to go with him. He frightens me,’ I cried.
Pa hesitated. His hand went out, as if he might stroke my hair, the golden locks he used to love.
‘Make it five guineas, not five pounds,’ Mister whispered.
‘Show me your money.’
The man reached inside his greatcoat and drew out a leather bag with a tight cord, greasy from much handling. ‘Cup your hands!’ he told Pa.
I watched, scarcely able to breathe, while he counted out five gold sovereigns and five silver shillings into Pa’s shaking hands. Pa thrust the money deep into his pockets and then hid his eyes with one hand so that he should not see me.
‘Take her,’ he muttered.
‘No! Oh, Pa, please, I want to stay home with you and Mary-Martha and little Johnnie.’ I was gulping tears now. I would not miss my father now he was so cruel to me, but I had become fond of my baby brother, and Mary-Martha had done her best to be a little mother to me.
‘I’ll take her, sir, and gladly, but I need you to sign my paper here, giving your permission. I’ll not have you regretting things in a more sober light and accusing me of child-stealing. Let me write in the sum – five whole guineas. My, that’s more than you’d pay for a thoroughbred horse – and this child’s such a stunted little filly. There, sir, sign at the bottom. One flourish of the pen and then we’ll cease bothering you. You can toss away your tray of tracts and go to the tavern and celebrate your good fortune. I see you licking your lips! You’ve a fierce thirst on you, sir, and it needs to be slaked.’
So Pa signed his name and then staggered off without a backward glance. My own father had sold me to a stranger.
I COULD NOT believe it. I kept poking at my eyes, trying to open them wider, wondering if I was having some terrible nightmare – but I knew I was not imagining the iron grip on my wrist.
‘Come along, my little fairy,’ the man said. ‘Don’t pull away from me like a naughty child. You have to do as I say now – and woe betide you if you don’t.’
‘Oh, but please, mayn’t I say goodbye to my dear sister and my little brother? They will be so anxious if I don’t go home, and they’ll be needing me to earn money for a bite to eat,’ I begged.
‘All your money is my money now. You’re all mine, little fairy. Your pa’s signed you away. You ain’t got no pa or sister or baby brother now. You’ve just got me,’ said Mister. ‘Now stop your grizzling and walk along nicely. Stop hanging back. Walk, I say.’ He gave my arm such a sudden vicious tug I thought he’d yank it right out of its socket.
I clamped my lips shut because I didn’t want my sobs to make him even angrier, and did my best to scurry along at his pace. He might be old and wizened and his legs bent, but he was extraordinarily lithe and strong. I was soon very out of breath.
I looked all around me desperately, wondering where he was taking me. I didn’t know this part of town beyond the market very well. We passed the town hall, and its clock boomed out the time – twelve noon. I shuddered at every chime. Even now, when I am so happy, Hetty, if I hear any clock striking and I count along to twelve, my heart starts thudding again, remembering that hour.
I saw an undertaker’s funeral parlour and wondered if it was the one where Luke worked. I tried calling his name, but my throat was so dry with fear I could barely make a cheep. Then the long street of shops petered out. We passed several rows of new houses, big red-brick villas with gardens. There was a nursemaid trying to pull a perambulator up a flight of steps. The baby stayed safe inside the covers, but the little boy perching on the end of the pram tumbled off and bumped his head, starting up a fearful screaming.
‘Oh dear, poor little lad,’ said Mister, and went to pull the child to his feet with his free hand.
‘You keep away from our Charlie!’ the nursemaid said fiercely. ‘You’re from the circus, I dare say. We don’t want the likes of you hanging around here.’
‘Suit yourself, missus. I’ll let the little lad tumble down all over again and crack his head open into the bargain, and I’ll not raise a finger to help,’ said Mister, swiping the boy back to the ground with one quick cuff.
The child started screaming anew and the nursemaid shrieked. Mister just laughed and tugged at me to get me moving again.
I was more fearful than ever now. What was this circus? The nursemaid had spat the word out. Was it even more tumbledown and filthy than Willoughby Buildings? Yet Mister seemed clean enough and his clothes were respectable, if a bit odd. He wore a worn worsted coat and checked trousers, and a flowing paisley silk scarf about his thin neck – the clothes of a silly young toff, yet Mister was old and spoke just like ordinary folk.
He saw me staring and suddenly pulled an extraordinary face, crossing his eyes and pushing his lips into a terrifying pout. I gasped, and he cackled with laughter.
‘You’re a timid little fairy, ain’t you, my pretty one? No prancing and prinking now. Well, droop away while you can. I’ll soon perk you up for the ring.’
‘The ring?’ I quavered.
‘In the big top.’
I stared at him. He seemed to be talking in riddles.
‘You’ll see, you’ll see. What a sweet ignoramus you are. But I’ll learn you. Oh yes, I’ll learn you good and proper,’ said Mister. ‘Come along, step up smartly. We’re nearly there.’
I looked around fearfully for some dark looming building, but could only see green fields at the edge of the town. Folk seemed to have set up home in one of the fields. I saw a semicircle of brightly painted wagons, and an enormous red and white construction like the preaching tent Ma had taken us to when we were little. Then I saw a vast wild beast with a long, long nose like a wriggling eel, and I stood stock-still.
Mister laughed at me. ‘Aha! What do you think of Elijah then, little fairy?’
‘It’s a monster!’ I gasped. ‘Will it eat me?’
‘Yes, it
’ll eat you all up in one gollop if you’re a bad little minx and don’t do as I say,’ Mister told me, chuckling. ‘Come along and say how do – and if you say it respectful like, he’ll shake your hand with his trunk.’
I wasn’t going to shake hands with that heathen monster, even if Mister beat me black and blue. There were other exotic animals here too. As we drew nearer, I heard a roaring that set me trembling.
‘What’s that, Mister? Is it a dog, a giant dog? I’m a-feared of fierce dogs,’ I said.
‘It’s not a big dog, my silly little fairy. It’s a big cat. Ain’t you heard of Tanglefield’s lions? The wildest beasts in all Christendom, and yet we train them to jump through hoops of fire.’
This wasn’t reassuring. I heard other alarming animal sounds – wild, high-pitched barking – coming from one of the bigger wagons.
‘There’s big dogs in there, Mister, I can hear them,’ I said.
‘They’re not dogs either – they’re sea lions swimming about their tank. It sounds as if it’s feeding time. You watch yourself, pretty missy, or I’ll chop you into little pieces and feed you to the sea lions too.’ He made little chewing motions with his lips and wheezed with laughter at my horror.
This circus seemed the most terrifying place in the world, full of ravenous beasts and men like Mister, but then I saw an animal I recognized. It was a beautiful black horse, a prince of ponies compared to all the sad knock-kneed nags I saw dragging carts and drays all over town, but clearly a horse nevertheless, with an arched neck and a long silky mane and tail. On his back sat the most amazing woman I had ever seen, like a princess in a fairy tale.
She had long, wavy red hair tumbling down her back and wore a pair of bizarre baggy trousers that clung to her shapely white legs. Her horse was unbridled and she rode bareback, not even holding onto his flowing mane. He was stepping out swiftly, but she stayed erect and upright, a smile on her face.
Then she saw me and stopped the horse in his tracks. ‘Who have you stolen now, Beppo?’ she said, her voice sharp.
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