18
'We can't go to the circus, Hetty!' said Gideon.
'It's not within close proximity! It couldn't possibly be further away.'
'Oh, for Heaven's sake, who cares!' I said gaily.
'But it's nearly one o'clock. We have to be back at marquee number ten. Didn't you listen to what the matron said?'
'As if I care what Matron Stinking Bottomly says!' I said. 'Come on, Gideon! Here's your chance to see the circus for yourself at long last. Don't you want to see Elijah close up – and wondrous Madame Adeline and her horses? And remember the boy acrobats in their sparkly silver clothes, don't you want to see them?'
Gideon did waver then, looking longingly in the direction of the circus, though we couldn't even see the tip of the tent or the top of Elijah's trunk now that we were down on the ground.
'And it won't cost a penny this time. Everything is free today because of the Jubilee. Come on, Gideon.'
'We will miss our meal in the tent,' said Gideon.
'Never mind. Maybe we'll be back in time to snatch at something.'
'But we'll get into such trouble.'
'There are so many of us I don't think anyone will notice there are two foundlings too few. And even if they do find out, what will we care? We will have seen the circus!'
'You would care if you were a boy, Hetty. If we are very bad, we get whipped.'
'Listen, I have been so fearfully bad I got locked up without food or water in a bleak attic for days and days,' I said, exaggerating slightly. 'I'm going to go to the circus now even if they lock me in the attic for the rest of my life. And so are you, Gideon.'
I tugged at his arm but he pulled away.
'I can't, Hetty. I simply daren't. You go, if you must, but I do so hope you won't get into trouble.'
I stared at his pale, obstinate face and knew there was no way I could persuade him.
'All right, I shall go by myself,' I said. I gave him a kiss on his white cheek. 'You will kick yourself for not coming with me!'
I ran off in what I hoped was the right direction. I looked over my shoulder to see if Gideon might just be wavering, but he'd already been swallowed up by the crowd.
'Oh, Gid,' I said, and even though I was sure he couldn't see me, I waved to him.
Then I ran off to find the circus by myself, though it was hard to work out which way to go. The crowd was so thick. I had to dodge and weave and dart between folk wherever I could. Troops of children were gathering and marching towards the marquees for their festive meal. My stomach was rumbling. I couldn't help wondering just how festive the meal would be. Perhaps cake? Jellies? But I couldn't lose my huge chance out of sheer greed!
People were peering at me strangely, laughing at my bizarre uniform. I quickly took my cap off and stuffed it down my tippet, but I had no way of hiding the rest of my clothes.
A formidable woman with an official badge pinned to her bosom seized hold of me. 'Aren't you one of the foundlings from the hospital? No, no, my child, you're going entirely the wrong way.' She consulted a list. 'You're due in marquee number ten – that way!'
'Yes, ma'am,' I said, spinning round and walking the way she pointed – but within seconds she was out of sight, so I could turn and fight my way back in the direction of the circus.
It took me a good half-hour before I was even near. I was so hot my frock was sticking to my back and some small child had smeared his hokey-pokey ice all over my skirts. My cap had edged its way out of my tippet and was now lost, ground underheel by hundreds of feet. But when I spied the red and purple tip of the striped circus tent, I forgot all about my bedraggled appearance. I pushed forward determinedly, so eager now I was nearly running.
I saw Elijah, standing tethered to a pole, wearing a head-dress of gold in honour of the Queen. He was smaller than I remembered, but of course I'd been much smaller when I last saw him.
The crowd was even thicker now that I was near the circus, and many small boys pushed and shoved. When I pushed and shoved back, one little monster kicked me hard on the shins. I kicked back harder though, for once in my life thankful for my stout institution boots, though my feet were hot as Hell inside them.
I got nearer and saw a tower of acrobats standing on each other's heads, but they weren't dressed in silver, they were all in red. Of course those tumbling boys in silver spangles would have new costumes now, and perhaps their younger brothers had joined their act. I pushed my way through the entrance, into the tent. It was boiling like a cauldron, packed with children keen to see the free show. I barged my way along the front row to claim the only empty seat.
There were clowns running backwards and forwards throwing buckets of water around. It all seemed a familiar routine and I laughed hysterically even though I did not really find them funny.
Then I heard a neigh and a thud of hooves, and I tingled all over and cried out in joy. But where was Pirate, the pale grey with the black patch? These horses were all a glossy chestnut brown, with purple plumes in their manes. And who was this? Two women, with big chests and fat thighs, in tight violet spangled dresses, with huge floppy purple bows stuck in their hair, one blonde, one dark.
Where was Madame Adeline? These two dumpy imposters rode round and round the ring. Their act was a travesty compared to Madame Adeline's. Surely they could not have taken her place? I knew every turn she'd taken, every trick, every toss of her beautiful red hair. I had pictured it so many hundreds of times inside my head. These two purple fools galloped round monotonously, waving their hands for applause. I could not bear to clap them. I clasped my hands in agony. When they cantered out of the ring at last, I pushed my way back along the row and elbowed my way to the entrance, taking no notice of the mutters in my wake.
I clutched hold of a circus hand giving out flyers for the circus.
'Where is Madame Adeline?' I demanded. 'When will she be performing?'
'Madame who?' said the man. 'Never heard of her.'
'Madame Adeline and her troupe of horses,' I said. 'She's the star of this circus!'
'No she ain't! The only horse act we've got is Miss Molly and Miss Polly, the Equestrian Twins. You've just missed them,' he said impatiently. 'Now leave me alone, girlie, I've got a job to do.'
He gave me one of his flyers and turned away from me. I stared down at the strip of paper in my hand.
Mr Geoffrey's Wondrous Whirligig Circus it said in big bold italics at the top of the page.
I blinked at it, even rubbing the words with my finger as if I could reassemble them into any order that made sense. Who was this Mr Geoffrey? This was Tanglefield's Travelling Circus! I was sure that was the right name. But I wavered as I slid my eyes down the list of performers. Miss Lizzie's troupe of baboons? Mr Lionel Luck, contortionist? The Zebidee Family of Tumblers? I had not heard of any of them. And then, in bold lettering: Archibald, the Infant Elephant! What were they talking about? I knew the elephant was called Elijah. I could not have remembered it all so inaccurately.
'Why has the circus changed so?' I asked the circus hand desperately, shaking his striped sleeve. 'Why isn't it called Tanglefield's Travelling Circus any more? Why are there all these new people? Why has Elijah's name been changed? And where is Madame Adeline? You must have heard of her!'
'Will you stop pestering me? I've got a job to do. Can't you read, child?' He tapped his wad of flyers impatiently. 'It's there, plain as the nose on your face. Does it say Tanglefield's Travelling Circus? No, it does not. This is Mr Geoffrey's gaff – and he'll have my guts for garters if he catches me chatting. He's a sharp man, Mr Geoffrey, never one to miss an opportunity. This is better than a ten-foot advertisement on a hoarding. Now, on your way. Ain't all you kids meant to be having a free nosh? Little girlie . . .? Oh my Lord, don't start crying on me. I can't abide it when kiddies cry.'
I was weeping in sheer frustration, still too stunned to understand.
The circus hand sighed. 'I reckon Tanglefield's will be up on the heath. I hear they've got all the rag-tag
-and-bobtail circuses up there.'
I stared at him. 'You mean there are different circuses?'
'There must be thousands, if you count all over Europe – and America too. I was once part of the Great Fernando's Travelling Circus in the States. Now that was a gaff and a half. We'd start our procession with twenty elephants – twenty, I tell you – and two miles later you'd come to the very last animal wagon, how about that? I'll wager this Tanglefield's Travelling Circus you hold so dear couldn't hold a candle to that.'
'Do you really think they'll be on this heath?' I asked.
'Without a doubt,' he said. 'Hampstead Heath, that's the one.'
'Where is that, sir?'
'Oh, for goodness' sake, what do you want of me now – a map? You hop off home and get your pa to take you.'
I hopped off. I didn't have a home and I didn't have a pa. I would have to find Hampstead Heath by myself. I'd never have another chance to find Madame Adeline.
It took me a very long time to fight my way out of the heaving park. I didn't battle back towards the big marquees just in case someone from the hospital spotted my brown dress amid the froth of fancy frocks. I followed the shimmer of the Serpentine instead. I marvelled at all the boats on the water, longing to have a go at rowing myself up and down, but I had a more pressing purpose.
I caught hold of a kindly-looking lady in charge of a bunch of small children. 'If you please, ma'am, can you tell me the way to Hampstead Heath?'
'Well, let me see now. I believe it's over in that direction.' She gestured vaguely. 'But it's a very long way off, too far for a little girl. Where is your school party, child? Are you lost?'
'Oh no, ma'am, they're over there,' I said quickly, and edged away before she could question me further.
My heart sank a little at her words. A very long way off. I was so very hot and starving hungry now, and my boots were pinching dreadfully – but I was still resolved. I would get to Tanglefield's Travelling Circus and find Madame Adeline even if I had to crawl there on my knees.
It was scarcely any easier making my way when I was out of the park gates. The streets were so crowded that I had to scurry along in the gutter, though I trembled every time a cab or carriage drove close, terrified of the iron-shod hooves of the horses.
I walked along the wide, grand road of Piccadilly. The crowds were thicker than ever. Then there was a clamour and a cheer, and everyone surged forward, teetering at the edge of the pavement, nearly tumbling on top of me.
'Up you come, little 'un!' said a perfectly strange man, picking me up before I could protest and perching me on his shoulder. 'There now, you're safe with me. See them coming? My, you'll be able to tell your grandchildren one day that you had a grand view of Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee Procession!'
I saw many red-coated soldiers with white- plumed helmets riding horses – and then a black open carriage drawn by six grey horses – very fine, but not a patch on Madame Adeline's. A small fat woman sat in the carriage looking dazed, waving her plump little hand mechanically.
'There now, you've seen the Queen!' said the gentleman.
'Thank you very much, sir,' I said – though I wanted to see Madame Adeline so much more! 'Would you say I am nearly at Hampstead Heath now?'
'What's that? You're nowhere near, silly child. There now, don't look so disappointed. You've seen the Queen, God bless her!'
'Yes, sir, thank you, sir, could you set me down now, please, sir?' I said.
I started walking as soon as he put me down. It was hard to progress with the crowd thick as treacle, still cheering, chanting, singing songs, some of the younger ladies even lifting their skirts and dancing. I struggled on, asking every kind face if I was going the right way to the heath, but they either did not know or told me it was too far a journey for a little girl like me.
I was so tired and out of breath I could barely speak, but when I tugged the sleeve of maybe the fiftieth lady and asked if she could tell me the way to Hampstead Heath, she smiled at me merrily.
'Yes indeed, dearie. Don't she look like a sparrow in her brown stuff frock, Desmond?' She nudged her companion, a red-faced young man with ridiculous whiskers. 'Yes, little sparrow, Desmond and I are going there too. There's a big funfair and a circus.'
'Oh! Pray tell me, is it Tanglefield's Travelling Circus?' I asked desperately.
'I don't rightly know, my dear. I fancy there are all sorts up on the heath. You're a quaintly spoken child. Isn't she sweet, Desmond?' The lady nudged him and he nodded obligingly.
'She's a dear little thing, Rebecca. Though you are even dearer,' said Desmond.
Rebecca nudged him and laughed again. They seemed so taken with me that I dared ask: 'If you are going to Hampstead Heath, might I possibly walk with you?'
'We're not walking, child!' she said, bursting into peals of laughter. 'Especially not when I'm wearing these heels! We're taking the omnibus at Tottenham Court Road. You can come with us by all means.'
I went with them, though I thought Rebecca very silly and simpering, and I did not care for whiskery Desmond either. I knew omnibuses cost money and I had none, but as I'd hoped, Desmond paid the pennies for my fare, scarcely seeming to give it a thought.
'Thank you kindly, sir,' I said. 'Do you think we might go upstairs?'
'Of course we can, little sparrow,' said Rebecca. 'Desmond, get them to make way for us.'
The omnibus was already so crowded we were all squashed hip to hip, but Rebecca managed to manoeuvre me right to the front so that I could peer out. It was wondrous to have a bird's-eye view of everything, almost as if I truly was a sparrow. I stared down at all the hats and bonnets below me, and then in the distance saw a long line of little white caps.
Oh my lord, surely it couldn't be the foundlings on their long march back to the hospital? I asked Rebecca the time and she got Desmond to produce his big gold watch from his waistcoat pocket. A quarter to four! I felt faint. I had lost all sense of time. I had thought I might somehow manage to rush back to Hyde Park and join up with all the others for the march back. But now it was clearly much too late. Had they counted every foundling at marquee number ten? Did Matron Bottomly realize I was missing? She would be so angry. I thought of the punishment attic and shuddered. I could not go back to the hospital now. Without quite meaning to, I had run away at last!
The omnibus took us northwards, and I clutched the rail of the bus, my heart beating hard. Rebecca addressed me every now and then, and I said, 'Yes, ma'am,' and 'No, ma'am,' scarcely taking in what she was saying. My eyes were open but I'd stopped focusing on the sights of London. I was praying fervently inside my head: Please let me find Tanglefield's Travelling Circus. Please let me find Madame Adeline. Oh, please please please let her somehow really be my mother so that I can live with her.
The air grew fresher and the streets less crowded. I glimpsed green fields and many trees. I was reminded of the only real home I had ever known. 'Is this the countryside?' I said wonderingly.
'This is the start of the heath, little sparrow. And look, there's the funfair, right over there!'
I saw it spread out across the heath, more merry-go-rounds and helter-skelters, coconut shies and shooting games and all kinds of swings, but I scarcely gave them a glance. I saw several big striped circus tents!
'Thank you so much,' I said as we all tumbled down off the omnibus.
'Don't you want to come on the rides with us, little sparrow? You shouldn't wander around by yourself, there's all sorts here today,' said Rebecca.
'Oh no, thank you. I'll be all right. I'm meeting someone here,' I said. 'Someone very special.'
'Ah, isn't she lovely, Desmond? Who is it, little sparrow? You're surely too young to have a sweetheart already?'
'It's my mother,' I blurted out – and then I rushed away from them.
I ran towards the nearest tent, so agitated that I tripped and nearly went sprawling.
Please please please let it be Tanglefield's – and please please please let me fin
d her!
I gabbled it out loud this time, not caring if folk stared at me. I saw some words on a big placard:
THIS WAY TO THE GREAT
TANGLEFIELD'S TRAVELLING CIRCUS!
Perhaps I was imagining the words because I wanted to see them so badly. I knew all along that there was only a chance that Tanglefield's would be here on the heath. They could be at any town or village in the whole of Britain.
I blinked to get the words properly in focus. Oh glory, it really did say Tanglefield!
'Oh thank you, thank you, thank you,' I gabbled, nearly sick with excitement.
I ran nearer. I saw Elijah tethered behind the tent, the real Elijah, truly vast and more weirdly wrinkled than ever, his great ears in the air, trunk waving. I had found my circus! And now I just had to find Madame Adeline and all my dreams would come true.
The flap on the circus tent was closed. A notice declared: Next performance at five thirty.
I couldn't wait that long. I dodged round the tent, nervously skirted Elijah, and timidly knocked on the nearest wagon. An old man came to the door in just his undershirt and trousers, his braces flapping.
'What do you want, missy?' he said, frowning at me. There were traces of red on his nose and around his mouth.
'You're Chino the clown!' I said.
'No I'm not, not when I'm taking my break! Now be off with you. I need my forty winks.'
'I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr Chino. It's just I must see Madame Adeline. It's very urgent. Oh, please tell me she's still with the circus, Madame Adeline and her six ponies?'
'Well, she can barely run to two now. She's a bit down on her luck, our Addie. Past it, if you ask me. But the circus is in her blood, you know how it is.'
'The circus is in my blood too,' I said grandly. 'I'll thank you not to talk disparagingly of Madame Adeline. I am related to her.'
'Are you now?' he said, peering at me doubtfully. 'Well, she's over in the wagon at the end, the green one with the stars on the door. But she'll likely be taking a nap and won't be too happy to be disturbed.'
'She'll want to see me,' I said.
I had to believe it. I had no other dreams left. I said it so passionately that the clown believed me too.
Hetty Feather Page 20