Lizzie shook her head. “You’re right. It is horrible. It’s stinky and mean and full of beggars and thieves and there’s no one magic like you lot.”
Malachy tipped his head to one side. “Is that why you ran away?”
Before Lizzie could answer, Hari’s steady gaze fixed on her. “What about your family, Lizzie? Won’t they miss you?”
Lizzie looked down. “My mother and brother are dead.”
Hari’s eyes grew round with sympathy. “My mother is dead too.”
“So’s mine,” Malachy sighed.
Lizzie touched the bruise on her cheek. “And Pa . . .” she hesitated. “Pa’s just . . . Pa.”
“Oh, Lizzie!” Nora flung her arms around her. “You poor thing!”
“I’m not a poor thing! Look!” Lizzie shook her off. “Look where I am! I’m not poor at all.”
* * *
Later, as the crowds faded and the circus grew quiet, Lizzie snuggled deep into her bunk beside Nora and Erin. The Sullivans snored and mumbled around her, tucked above and below like loaves in an oven. For the first time since Ma had died, Lizzie felt safe and warm. Smiling to herself, she closed her eyes. She was soon dreaming of high wires and elephants.
Swooping from a trapeze, Lizzie landed lightly on her feet in the elephant tent. Akula lifted her trunk to greet her but, as Lizzie reached out her hand to stroke the gentle creature, she vanished into darkness.
Lizzie spun around. Shadows swamped every corner.
“Akula?” Lizzie strained to see. “Hari?”
“Lizzie,” a voice answered back.
“Who’s there?” Lizzie tiptoed forward.
“Are you looking for me?” the voice asked.
Lizzie’s heart quickened as she heard rasping breathing ahead. A face loomed from the shadows.
The Phantom!
Snarling, he lunged. His black cloak fluttered as he flew at her. He slammed into her, and she staggered backward. . . .
As she hit the ground, Lizzie woke with a gasp.
Nora moved beside her and sighed. Around her, the Sullivans still snored and mumbled in their sleep. Relieved, Lizzie let herself sink into the soft mattress, her heart slowing as she drifted back into sleep.
CHAPTER 5
The next morning, the hustle and bustle of the Sullivan family’s caravan made it easy for Lizzie to forget her nightmare about the Phantom.
“Come on!” Erin tugged Lizzie out of the caravan while Nora raced behind.
“Why won’t you just tell me what they’re called?” Lizzie leaped over a rope as Erin swung her past the Lobster Boy’s penny gaff.
“I will when we get there!” Erin said, dodging past the elephant tent.
Lizzie had been asking about the humpback horses over breakfast in the caravan. “Humpback horses!” Nora and Erin had burst into fits of giggles.
Patrick, shoveling in porridge at the far end of the table, had choked with laughter while Ma and Pa Sullivan exchanged smiles across Pa’s newspaper.
“We’ll get to the humpbacks in just a while.” Erin skidded to a halt beside the horse pen.
Conor was brushing down his golden mare at the far side. “Don’t be expecting me to brush Marigold and Daisy down for you again today,” he told his sisters. “I’ve got to practice my somersaults. I’ve no time for grooming.”
“I hear you,” Erin hollered back. “We’re just showing Lizzie the animals.” She was ready with a sugar lump as her pony came trotting to meet her. “There you go, Marigold.” She stood on the bottom rung of the fence and leaned over. Marigold whickered and nibbled it softly from her palm.
“Hello, Daisy.” Nora climbed the rail beside them and took a sugar lump from her pocket as her pony nudged Marigold aside. “Here, Lizzie. You give it to her. Rest it on your palm and keep your thumb tucked in,” she advised.
Lizzie held her hand out gingerly, thumb tucked in. She felt the pony’s warm breath as it nuzzled her palm and softly took the sugar.
“Good girl, Daisy.” Nora patted the pony’s neck.
Lizzie looked around. “Where are the humpbacks?” she asked.
“They’re called camels.” A deep voice sounded from the pen beside them. Mario, the circus giant, was leaning over the fence. “Come say hello. I’m just about to feed them.”
Lizzie clambered over the fence and jumped down beside Mario. “That’s them!” She pointed excitedly at the two camels grazing on the far side of the pen. They looked even stranger in the sunshine, their brown pelts shaggy and their humps tufted and floppy at the top.
“Wait here.” Mario held up a hand as Erin and Nora leaped down beside Lizzie. “Camels can be grumpy first thing in the morning, and when they’re grumpy, they spit.”
“Like Pa,” Lizzie muttered.
Erin nudged her. “Conor’s a champion spitter, so he is.”
“He can spit the length of the circus ring,” Nora boasted.
“Can you spit, Lizzie?” Erin asked.
Lizzie grinned. “I could knock a fly outta the air if I wanted.” She left Nora and Erin exchanging impressed glances as she hurried after Mario. He was beckoning from beside the camels as they leaned down and munched hay from the pile he’d scattered at their feet.
“This is Sultan.” Mario scratched the thick pelt of one of the camels. “And this is his partner Sabira.”
Sabira lifted her head and blinked.
“Look at her eyelashes! They’re so long.” Lizzie pointed at the drooping hump. “And what’s that for?”
“To store water in.” Mario patted Sultan. “For long treks across the desert.” He winked. “D’you want to see something better?”
“Better than camels?” Lizzie followed Mario out of the pen and past the show tent. Beyond the ropes, she could see the King of the Jungle’s cage. A golden pelt stretched on a carpet of straw. “Is that Leo?” She raced to the pen and peered through the bars.
The lion lifted his wide head and shook out his mane.
“You’ve heard about him, then?” Mario crouched down beside her and stuck his fingers through the bars.
“So it’s true he’s old and got no teeth!” Lizzie said. The big cat was so handsome. “Poor ol’ thing.”
“He’s had a good life,” Mario assured her. “Been with Fitzy since he was a cub. Lost his teeth from too much cotton candy.”
Leo leaned forward and licked Mario’s fingers with a massive tongue.
“He’s a pussycat!” Lizzie giggled.
Erin and Nora caught them up. “Are you still scared of Leo?” Nora teased.
Leo stretched out and flexed his claws. They were like butcher’s hooks.
“I wouldn’t get in a cage with him.” Lizzie gazed at Leo. “Who does?”
“Fitzy,” Erin crouched beside her. “He’s Fitzy’s act. He has Leo jumping through hoops every show. The crowd loves it. Leo acts all fierce, and then Fitzy acts fiercer.”
“It’s just a big game for them both,” Nora said with a grin. “They’re old friends.”
“Come on.” Erin jumped to her feet. “Let’s leave Leo in peace and watch Dru practice.”
“Lord, yes!” Lizzie hadn’t seen the high wire act yet. She chased after Erin, tugging Nora by the hand. “Thanks, Mario!” she called over her shoulder.
They girls ducked into the show tent, where the smell of sawdust and canvas filled Lizzie’s nose. She hadn’t seen the show yet — she’d been too busy helping the performers — but she’d peeked inside the red-and-black striped tent on her way to fetch pegs for Mario yesterday. This was the first time she’d been inside, though.
Malachy was sitting on the brightly painted ledge that surrounded the wide stretch of sawdust. Clowns jumped and tumbled in the middle. Lizzie laughed as one pulled the hat of another down over his face. Water shot out of the top.
“Look!�
�� Erin pointed at the roof.
Lizzie craned her neck and saw Dru waving from a platform high up on a fat tent pole. Arms stretched out, he stepped out onto a wire strung across the ring and walked across.
Lizzie swallowed. “What if he falls?”
“He’ll die.” A voice said from behind her, and Lizzie swung around. The girl in spangled tights she’d seen yesterday with the penny-farthing bicycle was standing behind them. It was Dru’s sister, Collette.
Lizzie searched Collette’s face. It was gaudy with makeup and pretty as a doll’s. But no worry showed in her round blue eyes. Doesn’t she love her brother? thought Lizzie.
Malachy leaned forward on his cane. “No one’s ever died at Fitzy’s circus,” he told Lizzie. “And Pop says Dru can have a safety net if he wants.”
“I wish he would.” Nora clasped her hands together.
Erin sighed. “He says safety nets are for kids.”
“But he’s hardly more than a kid, ain’t he?” Lizzie looked up, relieved, as Dru reached the far platform.
Collette shrugged. “He’s old enough to earn his own living.”
Dru was shimmying down the tent pole. He leaped the last few feet and raced across the ring. “Impressed?” he asked, stopping beside Lizzie.
Lizzie was about to answer when a figure caught her eye. Marching into the ring was a woman. At least, she was dressed like a woman. But a handsome beard covered her cheeks, and hair sprouted from her neck and arms as thickly as if she was wearing fur. She stopped beside a short fat clown, grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him hard.
“That’s Ursula!” Erin said, following Lizzie’s gaze. “The Bear Woman.”
Lizzie stared. “Why’s she kissing clowns?”
“That’s her husband, Rice Pudding Pete,” Nora said.
“Rice Pudding Pete?” Lizzie echoed.
Erin sat down beside Malachy. “He closes the act by falling into a vat of rice pudding.”
Dru ducked in front of Lizzie, blocking her view. “My act? What did you think?”
Lizzie blinked into Dru’s green eyes. “It was amazing! I could hardly breathe. How d’you keep your balance?”
Dru ran his fingers through his hair. “Practice.”
Collette frowned at Ursula. “She should be in her booth with the other freaks, not in here with the performers.”
Lizzie felt a surge of annoyance. How dare she? Anita’s words rang in her mind. People used to throw things at me, kick me . . . like I was no more than a dog.
Before she could stop herself, Lizzie burst out with, “Who are you calling a freak?” She looked Collette up and down. “Standing there in your underwear! They’re people, just like you an’ me!”
Just then Lizzie saw Fitzy standing behind Collette. Oh, no! Was he going to be furious with her for shouting at one of the stars? She shut up quickly.
But Fitzy was smiling. “Well said, Lizzie. We’re a family here at Fitzy’s circus.” He flashed a stern look at Collette. “We may bicker, but no one is more important than anyone else and we look after each other, right?”
Collette looked at him from under her lashes. “Right,” she muttered sulkily.
“Go and get on with your practice.” Fitzy shooed Collette away and fixed his gaze on Lizzie. “I’ve got a special job for you.”
Lizzie straightened. Did someone need her to fix their stage or iron their costume? “I’m ready.”
Fitzy smiled at her. “Good.” He glanced down at her dress — the same shabby gray frock she’d been wearing since she’d arrived. “Erin!” he called over his shoulder. “You’re about the same size as Lizzie. Can she borrow your Sunday dress?”
“Of course.” Erin nodded. “Why? Is she going to church?”
“Not quite.” Fitzy started to lead Lizzie out of the tent. “Madame Aurora needs an assistant.”
* * *
As visitors started streaming toward the circus, Lizzie stood beside the Sullivans’ caravan in Erin’s Sunday best with her chestnut brown hair stiffly braided. She felt as trussed up as a Christmas goose.
“Mercy, Lizzie,” Nora said with a giggle. She handed her Ma Sullivan’s ivory-back mirror. The black taffeta made Lizzie look white as a ghost.
Lizzie scowled. “I look like I’m off to a funeral.”
“You might as well be,” Erin told her gravely.
Nora grasped her hand. “Be good,” she warned. “Madame Aurora can be an awful banshee.”
“She’s a bit cranky,” Fitzy explained as he led Lizzie toward Madame Aurora’s tent. “But do as you’re told, and you’ll be right as rain. Just stand there and look mournful while she’s doing her readings.” He stopped outside a tent and lifted the flap. “She does palms and cards and the old crystal ball. You know the kind of thing. She just needs you looking sad and serious to help add a little solemnity to proceedings. Madame Aurora,” he called inside, “your new assistant is here.”
Lizzie peered into the shadows. Exotic perfume filled her nose. An oil lamp, turned low, barely lit the luxurious drapes that swathed the inside of the tent.
“Send her in.” A sultry voice sounded in the dim light.
As Lizzie stepped inside, she could just barely make out a figure seated at a table. Madame Aurora stood up regally, shimmering with sequins and jingling with jewelery. A blood-red veil covered her face. She lifted it, and Lizzie saw the strong features of a handsome woman, caked with heavy makeup.
“Not much of a girl.” Madame Aurora poked Lizzie’s shoulder with a bony finger. The nail dug deep beneath Lizzie’s shoulder bone.
Lizzie flinched but held her tongue. She wasn’t going to risk losing her first proper job in the circus.
Madame Aurora lifted one of Lizzie’s braids and let it fall from her fingers like a dead mouse. “Couldn’t you find anyone more exotic?” she asked stonily. “This one looks like she’s fresh from the workhouse.”
Fitzy put his hand gently on Lizzie’s shoulder. “She’s a good worker, and she’s bright. Her looks will improve once we’ve fed her up a bit.”
Lizzie dug her nails into her palms. Why do grown-ups have to be so rude? Like kids don’t have proper feelings.
Madame Aurora tossed her headscarf back and turned to her table. “I’ll do what I can with her.” She pointed to the doorway. “Stand there, girl.”
“My name’s Lizzie.” Lizzie lifted her chin.
“While you’re working here, you’re called Roxanna.” Madame Aurora sat down and gazed into the crystal ball sitting on her table, her ringed fingers fluttering around it. “Guide the client in, show them to their seat, then stand back and keep your mouth shut. I don’t want them knowing you’re a guttersnipe from the slums.”
Lizzie flashed Fitzy a worried look as he hovered outside the doorway.
“You’ll do fine.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Here comes your first customer.”
Madame Aurora quickly pulled her veil down over her face as Fitzy hurried away. A young woman was approaching the tent warily. Her eyes were red, and her nose was rosy from crying. Lizzie beckoned her in, and the young woman offered her a coin, but Madame Aurora’s voice called out, smooth as honey, “I’ll take your coin, dear. The spirits won’t speak unless you cross my palm with silver.”
Lizzie ushered the woman to the empty chair opposite Madame Aurora and then stepped back into the shadows. She watched as Madame Aurora pocketed the coin.
“Why have you come to seek guidance from the spirit world?” Madame Aurora’s veil trembled.
You should know, Lizzie thought. You’re meant to be psychic. She shuffled her feet.
Madame jerked her head in Lizzie’s direction. “Stand still!” she hissed.
As Madame turned back toward her client, Lizzie stuck out her tongue. Madame Aurora didn’t see; her gaze was fixed on the young woman who was now dab
bing her nose with a handkerchief. “You seem troubled, my dear.”
The woman nodded.
Well, that’s obvious! Lizzie thought.
Madame stroked the air around her crystal ball. “I see heartache.”
The woman sniffed and wrung her hanky between her fingers.
“Let me see.” Madame Aurora gently lifted one of the woman’s hands and turned her palm so it faced upward. Leaning over it she mumbled and shook her head. “You have known sorrow.”
The woman sniffed again.
“Your love line is broken, see?” Madame Aurora pointed toward the woman’s palm.
The woman looked closer. “I’ve been let down,” she confessed.
“A man you trusted has abandoned you,” the psychic continued.
As Madame Aurora spoke, the woman swallowed back a sob. “Archibald.”
“He was not the man for you,” Madame Aurora assured her. “Look.” She ran a finger over the woman’s palm. “Beyond the break, the line runs long and smooth. Another man waits, more trustworthy and with a faithful heart. You will find your true happiness with him.”
Can she really tell that just by looking at her palm? Lizzie wondered.
The young woman’s shoulders rose as though a great weight had been lifted from them. “Thank you!” The young woman stood up and began to back out. “Thank you so much.”
Lizzie quickly stepped forward to pull the curtain aside. Another client was waiting outside — a man this time, his forehead furrowed. He hardly acknowledged Lizzie as she waved him toward the chair.
Madame Aurora looked him over, and Lizzie followed her gaze as it lingered on his frayed collar and the threadbare hat he rolled in his hands.
The psychic gazed into her crystal ball. “Financial worries weigh heavily on you.” The man nodded.
Even I could tell that by just looking! Lizzie thought.
“But fortune awaits.” Madame Aurora peered harder into her ball.
“Fortune?” The man sat forward in his chair, and Madame held out her palm.
The man reached into his pocket and handed her a coin at once. “What fortune?”
“Fortune beyond your wildest imaginings,” Madame Aurora promised. “In business, your path is assured. I see water.” She lifted her veil and peered even closer into the crystal. “Great oceans bearing great ships.”
The Magnificent Lizzie Brown and the Mysterious Phantom Page 5