The Remarkable Secret of Aurelie Bonhoffen

by Deborah Abela

  ‘Not only is it in the town’s best interests, it would be a crime for us to let this poor family suffer any longer.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  Aurelie’s Announcement

  Aurelie stood outside Argus’s office. She took a deep breath and lifted her foot to the first step. A broad figure swung open the door before closing it softly behind him.

  ‘Enzo?’

  Enzo stood still, a wad of money in his hand. His face reddened and his eyes blinked fast.

  ‘You’re not usually up this early,’ Aurelie said.

  His hand crept to his pocket and snuck the money inside. ‘No,’ Enzo replied. ‘It’s an unusual day.’ He sat on the top step and patted the spot next to him. Aurelie sat beside his bulky frame.

  ‘Are you leaving?’

  ‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘We’ve had an offer to perform in Canada.’ He looked down. ‘It’s a very good offer.’

  ‘When do you leave?’

  ‘Today.’

  ‘But you never mentioned anything at practice yesterday.’

  ‘We made our mind up quickly. Thought it better to leave straightaway.’ His fingers twisted between his knees. ‘Promise you’ll think of me each time you twirl fire.’ He held a warning finger close to her nose. ‘And never show off – that’s when people get hurt.’

  Aurelie nodded, a sharp pain in her throat. ‘Will you come back to visit?’

  ‘Every time I can.’ Enzo pulled up his sleeve and flexed an arm. ‘Feel this.’ Aurelie grabbed his tattooed bicep. ‘Harder.’ Aurelie gripped with both hands. ‘Harder.’

  ‘That’s as hard as I can.’

  ‘That’s how strong the bond is between you and me, even when we are far apart. The star ruby will remind you of how strong you are. Even when you don’t feel it.’

  Aurelie took it out of her pocket. ‘I carry it everywhere.’

  Enzo blinked a few times and folded her into his coat. His eyes shut tight. He gave her one last kiss on the forehead before walking onto the pier.

  Aurelie wiped her sleeve across her face and swung open the office door.

  ‘Are we going to lose the pier?’

  ‘Ah, just what I needed, my little girl to bring me some sunshine.’ Argus sat at the table with Amarella. He pointed to his cheek. ‘And my morning kiss?’ Aurelie kissed her father. ‘And, no, the pier is ours for keeps.’

  ‘But Enzo’s leaving.’ The sadness of it caught in Aurelie’s throat in a gasp.

  Amarella held Aurelie’s face in her hands. ‘Enzo and his troupe have accepted an invitation to join a circus based in Montreal. It’s a chance to perform all over the world, even as far away as Australia.’

  Amarella pulled out a chair for Aurelie. The table was laid out with plates, jams and freshly made sweet breads. She poured her a glass of cloudberry juice.

  Aurelie sat. ‘Is anyone else leaving?’

  ‘No. Enzo had a good offer, that’s all.’ Argus dished out spoonfuls of porridge, sweetened with Lilliana’s cranberry syrup. ‘And there isn’t a finer breakfast than this to get you ready for school.’

  Aurelie turned the spoon in her hand. ‘I’m not going to school.’

  Amarella felt her daughter’s cheeks and forehead. ‘Do you feel sick?’

  ‘No.’ It was almost the truth.

  ‘Has something happened?’ Argus sat beside her.

  ‘No. Nothing. I’ve decided it’s better if I don’t go back.’

  ‘Better for who?’ Argus squared his shoulders towards his daughter.

  ‘For everyone. I learn just as much here as I do at school. In fact, I probably learn more. I already borrow books from Lilliana, and I borrow lots of others from the public library. Rolo and Rindolf teach me about music and juggling and fixing things, and when I wasn’t doing any of that I could pull my weight a little more and –’

  ‘What brought this on?’ Argus asked.

  ‘Nothing.’ Aurelie swirled the porridge in her bowl.

  ‘Nothing?’ Argus asked.

  She blurted it out. ‘School’s too expensive, and we can’t afford it. We’d be better off spending the money on the pier.’

  ‘Would we?’ He eyed her carefully.

  ‘We thought you liked school,’ Amarella said.

  ‘I do.’

  Argus stroked his daughter’s head. ‘Amarella and I want to make sure you learn as much about the world as you can, so that you can be anyone you want to be, and school is one way we can make that happen. So, unless there’s some other compelling reason you shouldn’t go, like you’re in danger of being eaten by a wild bear, then I guess that’s that. Are there any wild bears I should know about?’

  Aurelie smiled. ‘No.’

  ‘Do you want to be in school?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Argus waved his spoon in the air. ‘Then everything’s as it should be. Now, how’s that porridge? It’s one of Lilliana’s best batches of cranberry, and you know how she’ll be if she finds you didn’t eat every last speck.’

  ‘I’ll miss Enzo,’ Aurelie said.

  Argus’s smile had a touch of sadness in it. ‘We all will. But we’re lucky – people like Enzo leave a big enough memory, so he’ll never be forgotten.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  Disaster at Sea

  ‘Who could have known such terrible tragedy was to strike this most magnificent of ships?’

  Rufus Bog stood before his classmates with his model of the Mary Rose on a table beside him. He’d pointed out the features of the famous warship: the lower gun deck, the galley, the crew’s quarters and the crow’s nest.

  ‘The Mary Rose was one of King Henry VIII’s favourite ships, and he described her as “the fairest flower of all the ships that ever sailed”.’

  Stifled giggles rose from Charles and Sniggard. Rufus looked up. His thoughts became muddled and his hands began to shake. He turned back to the Mary Rose and her cannons, decks and sails, and resumed his report.

  ‘She … she … was one of England’s first ships built purposely for war. She had a long and successful career until 19 July 1545. King Henry VIII went to Southsea to watch his fleet set out to war against the French. She had more than ninety guns on her decks, the English flag flew proudly overhead. But, instead of watching her sail off to glory, the Mary Rose keeled over in a blast of wind and sank. Some claim there were up to seven hundred crew members, but only around thirty survived.’

  Rufus paused. ‘And the Mary Rose, along with all the hopes King Henry VIII held for her, were lost to the sea.’

  ‘Well done, Rufus, for a courageous and sad tale, and a masterfully built ship.’ Miss Miel led the applause.

  ‘My fairest flower.’ Sniggard blew Rufus a kiss as he wound his way back to his desk. Rufus tripped over the leg of his chair. Sniggard and Charles giggled harder.

  A few desks to his right, Rufus saw Aurelie. She smiled. With the eyes of Sniggard and Charles still on him, Rufus turned away.

  ‘And for our next speaker we must step into the courtyard. Aurelie Bonhoffen has something very special to show us.’

  Aurelie opened her desk and grabbed a canvas bag. Before she closed it, she saw an envelope tucked between her books. As the class piled outside, she slipped a finger beneath the seal and found it filled with money and a note. It read: For the dress.

  She looked around the class to see if anyone was watching her, but most of them had already left.

  ‘Ready, Aurelie?’ Miss Miel smiled from the doorway. ‘I have the sand bucket ready for you as requested.’

  ‘Yes, Miss Miel.’ She slipped the envelope to the back of her desk.

  In the courtyard, Aurelie began by juggling three balls. ‘No one can really say when juggling started, but we know it existed in ancient Egypt from a carving on the wall of a prince’s tomb that shows female dancers throwing balls.’ She tossed the balls higher. ‘In the Middle Ages, some religious men linked juggling with low morals – even witchcraft – but I think it was more about people wa
nting to entertain. Some made it more exciting by juggling dangerous objects, like knives and fire. I learnt to juggle from a man called Enzo. He was the lead fire-twirler at the pier and has performed for kings and princesses. He began teaching me when I was four. I started with soft balls, then I moved on to rings, clubs … and now this.’

  Aurelie put the balls back in her bag. She slipped on her gloves decorated with flames.

  ‘What’s with the gloves?’ Sniggard said loud enough for Aurelie to hear.

  ‘To protect my hands,’ she explained.

  ‘From what?’

  ‘From this.’ She took out a baton and lit both ends. The class gasped.

  ‘There’s no need to worry,’ Aurelie said. ‘As long as I respect the rules of fire-twirling, I won’t get hurt.’

  Aurelie began with some simple twirling from one hand to the other. The fire dipped and curved before she threw the baton in the air, spinning above her. There were small cries of amazement as she spun round, reached up and caught it overhead.

  The class surged into a wave of clapping and cheering. Miss Miel winked at Aurelie, who smiled until she saw herself being mimicked by Charles and Sniggard.

  Aurelie searched the class. ‘For this next part I need a volunteer.’ She pointed at Sniggard.

  ‘I’m not being your volunteer.’

  Aurelie held her lit baton before her. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of.’

  ‘I’m not afraid.’

  ‘Good,’ Miss Miel answered, ‘then you won’t mind being Aurelie’s volunteer. She has shown me what she can do. She’s very safe.’

  Sniggard shuffled to the front, his hands clenched in his pockets.

  ‘Stand very still,’ Aurelie instructed, ‘and you’ll be fine.’

  Sniggard turned to the students, whose faces were a mixture of grins and barely held back laughter. He kept his hands at his side and waited.

  Aurelie twirled the baton in one hand and then the other before swooping it around her body. She held Sniggard’s glare and returned a calm smile. Sniggard swallowed hard and tried to steady his shuddering body.

  All eyes focused on the flames.

  Aurelie gave Sniggard one last grin before hurling the baton into the air, directly above him. He shut his eyes and let out a small whimper. Aurelie raced forward as the baton circled over Sniggard’s head. She reached up and caught it just behind him.

  The class applauded wildly.

  Sniggard opened his eyes and spun round to see Aurelie extinguish the flame in a bucket beside her. He elbowed his way to the back of the class, eyeing a clapping Rufus and Charles, who went quiet instantly.

  Clusters of questions fired at Aurelie. She answered each one carefully, just as Enzo had taught her. She looked up and met Rufus’s eyes. For once he didn’t look away.

  After school, Aurelie headed for the Alleys – a labyrinth of winding, cobbled backstreets that lay between the sea and Gribblesea College. They bustled with fishmongers, greengrocers, bakers and booksellers. Old women in shawls and hooped earrings sat at tables telling fortunes from the palm of a hand or a clump of soggy tea-leaves. There were buskers with fiddles and squeezeboxes, harmonicas and dogs that danced in tiaras and tutus.

  Aurelie wound her way through it all, ducking under trays of tarts, stepping through racks of silk scarves, until she found Sniggard, Charles and Rufus sitting outside a cafe with three oversized milkshakes and chocolate fudge brownies. She blew a curl from her face, lifted her bag onto her shoulder and headed towards them.

  ‘Did you ask for extra malt in mine?’ Sniggard complained.

  ‘I asked,’ Rufus answered.

  ‘Yeah, well, it doesn’t taste like it.’ Sniggard took long loud sips before looking up. ‘Well, who do we have here?’ He wiped a line of froth from his mouth. ‘It’s the Fire Girl.’

  ‘Fire Girl.’ Charles laughed.

  ‘My name’s Aurelie.’

  ‘What kind of a name’s Aurelie?’

  ‘It was my great-, great-grandmother’s name. It means “golden”.’

  ‘Golden?’ Sniggard slapped Rufus’s back. ‘Well, aren’t you precious. What are you doing here, Golden Child?’

  ‘I overheard you say you were coming here, and I wanted to –’

  Sniggard slurped noisily. ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you.’

  Charles laughed through a mouthful of brownie that flew into the air in crumbled specks.

  Aurelie turned to Rufus. ‘I wanted to tell you that I liked your talk about the Mary Rose.’

  Charles and Sniggard looked at each other before exploding into monkey-like guffaws. ‘She liked your talk about that toy ship of yours,’ Sniggard cried. ‘What do you think of that, Rufus? Fire Girl thinks you’re a genius. Next she’ll be asking you to be her boyfriend.’

  Rufus’s eyes flicked around the table.

  ‘Well?’ Charles asked. ‘What do you think of that?’

  Sniggard’s and Charles’s eyes bore into him. ‘Thanks, but I don’t need a compliment from the school freak.’

  ‘School freak.’ Charles slapped the table. ‘That’s great.’

  Sniggard patted Rufus on the back and threw a sharp look at Aurelie, daring her to say more. She stood firm, making no attempt to move. ‘I thought it was good.’

  Sniggard grunted. ‘She’s only sucking up to you because your dad’s the mayor.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Charles snorted, ‘the mayor.’

  Aurelie waited until their laughter withered before turning away. Rufus concentrated on the swirl of thick, chocolatey bubbles and sipped, his eyes sneaking a glance at Aurelie’s every step until she disappeared into the crowd.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A Crash in the Night

  ‘I thought I’d been abandoned.’ Lilliana added a pinch of cinnamon to a steaming pot of hot chocolate.

  ‘Sorry,’ Aurelie said. ‘There was a problem with the ghost train, and the last one ended later than usual.’

  The smell of chocolate drifted through the air as Lilliana poured her brew into two large mugs. She spooned freshly whipped cream on top, followed by sprinkled flakes of chocolate.

  ‘How did the fire-twirling go at school?’

  ‘Good.’ Aurelie smiled. ‘Everyone loved it. Miss Miel said my research was very insightful.’

  ‘You didn’t show off, I hope.’

  ‘No. It’s Enzo’s first rule.’ Aurelie’s smile fell.

  ‘Goodbyes.’ Lilliana kissed her on the forehead. ‘Some of the hardest times we face. That chocolate won’t fix it, but it’ll help. Jump in.’

  Aurelie climbed into Lilliana’s bed, which was stuffed so full of feathers and covered with so many carefully stitched quilts that she felt as if she was floating. She took a sip. ‘One of your best yet.’

  Lilliana wiggled in close to Aurelie and sipped her own chocolate. ‘I think you’re right.’ She nodded. ‘Rindolf and Rolo told me about the meeting with the principal.’

  ‘You won’t say anything to Argus, will you?’

  ‘Not if you don’t want me to.’

  Aurelie warmed her hands around the mug. ‘Mrs Farnhumple said I’m not like the other children.’

  Lilliana frowned. ‘And that’s a problem?’

  ‘She said that –’

  ‘Are you happy being you?’

  Aurelie shrugged. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you worry about not being like the others?’

  ‘Not really. Miss Miel says everyone’s unique, and if we were all the same the world would be boring.’

  ‘Miss Miel is a smart woman.’ Lilliana took a loud sip. ‘What else did your principal say?’

  ‘She thinks I should dress more like the other kids.’

  ‘Why is she worrying about how you’re dressed?’ Lilliana’s chocolate almost spilt from her mug. ‘That woman deserves a good shake to knock some sense into her.’

  ‘Lilliana!’

  ‘Oh, I don’t mean it … but you could let an old lady have some fun thinking about it
.’ She laughed. ‘We’re all here, in our own way, adding something to the world no one else can. How is anyone going to do that when being the same is all they’re concentrating on? Do the other kids give you a hard time?’

  ‘Some, but most of them are really nice. The annoying ones seem to take up more room, but I can handle them.’

  Lilliana smiled. ‘I’m sure you can. Bonhoffens have made a whole family history out of being different. And made their mark doing it. Now, what else is worrying you? And don’t say nothing ’cause I know something is.’

  Aurelie paused. ‘Do you think we’re going to lose the pier?’

  ‘Did those uncles of yours tell you that?’

  ‘No. I heard you all talking at the family meeting.’

  Lilliana’s hand brushed her granddaughter’s cheek. ‘We’re staying right where we are. There are a few money issues we need to sort out, but we’ve been through worse. Your job is to concentrate on school and not worry about the business or what other people think you should or shouldn’t be.’ She held Aurelie’s chin. ‘And remember, the best way to deal with people who say untrue things about you is to prove them wrong.’

  A muffled crash came from outside.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Lilliana asked.

  Aurelie nodded.

  They slipped out from beneath the covers and rose up to the window above the bed. Lilliana lifted a corner of the curtain. The pier lay in the misty light of the lampposts. The flags of the marquee and the canvas covers of the rides fluttered and slapped.

  ‘Must be the wind stirring things up.’

  ‘Or it could be Rolo.’ Aurelie spied her uncle walking in the shadows. His body hunched into the wind, his head bent low. ‘He’s been sad lately.’

  ‘He has a heavy heart.’ Lilliana watched as he climbed the stairs to his room. ‘Always at this time of year,’ she added, almost to herself.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Something that happened a long time ago.’

  ‘What was it?’