The Winter Ground

by Catriona McPherson

  ‘I know, dear,’ I said. ‘I guessed. I am a detective after all.’

  There was a short silence during which I could hear Ina breathing rather hard.

  ‘Well?’ she replied at last. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘It’s a big change,’ I said, feeling the inadequacy of the words most acutely. ‘And you must be ready for some opprobrium. The world is not a kind place, as I’m sure you know.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Ina. ‘I love him and, besides, I’m dying here.’

  I am no admirer of such penny-paper outpourings and had had more than enough of them at Buckie on Monday afternoon, so I should gladly have let the matter drop, but Ina pressed me.

  ‘Do you think I’m a fool, Dandy?’

  I was about to deliver a little vague wittering, but then the question struck me as one deserving of an answer. Did I think she was foolish, to leave the blameless but soul-destroying Albert for the much more dashing but horribly unsteady Robin? To leave the joke of her life at Benachally for the scandal of her life at Cullen? What would I do in her shoes? The plain fact was that I should never have stepped into her shoes: I should never have married Wilson and no matter how neatly he could turn on the charm like a gas lamp when its light was needed I should not choose to be Robin Laurie’s consort either. For a moment I felt – and it was a very odd feeling – rather grateful for Hugh.

  ‘I think life is always a matter of considerable compromise,’ I said, ‘no matter where our lot falls. You will have a great deal to put up with – I hope I don’t speak too frankly?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘But you have obviously decided you can take all that in your stride and no one can deny that there are going to be enormous …’ I wanted to say rewards, but it sounded too baldly financial for words. ‘… silver linings,’ I concluded at last.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ina, dreamily. ‘He’s not … or rather the situation is not … what I ever foresaw, but I really do love him.’

  With an inward hurrah I saw my sitting-room door handle turn and the door begin to open.

  ‘Ina, so sorry, must dash, till tomorrow, lots of love, bye,’ I said in one breath and put the receiver down on her gushing with a shudder and, if I am to be honest, a small wriggling thing in my breast which felt suspiciously like envy.

  ‘One abandoned dog,’ said Alec, standing in the doorway. Bunty moped into the room, gave me a withering look and curled up on the blue chair. ‘I suppose it’s not as bad as the time you left the children, but don’t tell Hugh in case it sets him off again.’

  ‘Hugh would be delighted if I left her there for ever,’ I said. ‘You never do believe what a churl he can be when no one else is listening. And don’t be fooled by that.’ I pointed at Bunty. ‘She’s just worn out from all the good behaviour. Now thank you for returning her and please stay for a drink, because I need at least one extra brain to help me with all of this.’

  We had two drinks in all, enormous ones, but as Alec drained the last of his second one and chewed a thoughtful olive, we concluded together that while our martini cocktails might be clear and sparkling, our conclusions were mud.

  ‘The thing is, of course,’ I said, ‘if someone did it then they are no doubt lying and so any part of what anyone told me today might be utter eyewash.’

  Alec nodded.

  ‘There’s certainly plenty going on,’ he said. ‘I’d be happier, though, if amongst the “goings-on” there was something that looked like a motive.’

  ‘But there is,’ I insisted. ‘They all so desperately want the circus to survive and Ana was just no end of trouble. She infuriated Pa, sent the Prebrezhenskys into a patriotic huff; she even seems to have got under Bill Wolf’s skin somehow. There’s three possible suspects. And she might have been playing a lot of very nasty tricks on Topsy. So Topsy or anyone who cares for Topsy might have done it. One way and another, between circus loyalty, revenge and sheer loathing, it really could have been any of them. And the way they keep insisting that it couldn’t have been just makes me suspect them all the more.’

  ‘Even Andrew’s at it now,’ Alec said. ‘Nay, mister, murder just in’t the Harrow way. Maddening.’

  ‘All that said though,’ I went on, ‘I really do think we must give them peace tomorrow to take care of the funeral. Let’s drive over together just in time for the show.’

  Alec cleared his throat and shifted his feet before he answered.

  ‘Actually, you’ll have to do without me for the next day or two, Dan. Christmas, you know.’

  I had forgotten – absolutely forgotten – and now began to gibber like a squirrel.

  ‘Of course, how silly. Heavens, yes. You should start early. It’s a terrible road. And how long are you staying? I’ll catch up with you after New Year, I suppose.’

  ‘Just until Boxing Day,’ Alec said, ‘then I’ll be home again.’ He grinned at me. ‘And actually, since the show is practically a matinée and my invitation is for dinner, perhaps I can come along. And then set off to Pess straight from Benachally when the curtain comes down.’

  I shrugged rather than jumping up and down in a display of girlish delight. If Alec was to pursue this Pess connection as far as bringing Celia home to Dunelgar and installing her there, then many adjustments might have to be made and it was not too soon to start them.

  Practically a matinée was not how I should have described the timing of the show although it was not an evening gala either; curtain up in fact at the highly inconvenient hour of half-past four and so I decided that we were entitled to present ourselves at Benachally beforehand for tea. Thus it was that we happened to see the sorry end of the funeral procession straggling its way home as we traversed the park towards the castle. The undertaker was clopping along on his horse at the head of the rest, was in fact beginning to pull away from them as we passed. He nodded curtly, his many chins disappearing into the knot of his black scarf, and then looked quickly away, rather less sorrowful and more irritated than was strictly proper, as though he begrudged the service to the circus folk and was chagrined to have been seen by members of the county, carrying it out.

  After him came the entirety of Cooke’s, artistes, tent men, wives and children, in deepest black – albeit rather showy, shiny black in most cases as though a selection of ring costumes had been turned to account as mourning. Ma Cooke in her bombazine and velvet trim, with black berries on her hat and jet droplets dancing at her ears, was as festive as could be and all the little Prebrezhensky girls, their heads covered with black lace tied under the chin and enormous silver buckles on their black patent shoes, had stepped straight from a fairy tale. Only Andrew Merryman looked like an ordinary gentleman dressed for sombre duty and this was almost as great a surprise; to see him in a dark suit, stiff collar and black tie, without any of the trappings of the circus, not so much as a spotted handkerchief around his neck or a flash of satin down his trousers seam, was to remind oneself of his beginnings and of the extraordinary course of the life which had brought him here today. His allegiance was clear; he ignored Alec and me completely, as did the others as they paced by.

  Up at the castle, Ina was one rosy, happy day nearer to the fulfilment of her dreams and Albert, looking on bewildered, was tense and miserable, all his bustle quite gone. He could not even summon his usual lecture when Ina patted the sofa beside her and bid me come and sit near the fire.

  ‘Oh, oh,’ he moaned, but Ina only rolled her eyes at him – or rather not at him but at me, about him, which was schoolgirlish and nasty and set an answering nastiness going in me.

  ‘My dear,’ I said in a low voice, once Alec and Albert were safely talking and could not overhear, ‘I’ve been unable to stop thinking about you and I hope you don’t mind me butting in, but it just occurs to me – the more since I see you are burning your boats here – I suppose you have had a definite proposal, haven’t you? A definite offer of marriage?’

  Finally, Ina’s happy bubble was pricked and it vanished. She glared
at me but I was unabashed for it was not sheer cruelty that made me say it, not just a quick desire to see her chastened as she sneered at her poor silly husband; the possibility really had begun to press upon me overnight as I thought things through. I was sure that Robin Laurie was equal to seducing Mrs Wilson away from her respectable home for a short dalliance and a swift drop, and I was a great deal less sure that sweet Ina would think of it.

  ‘Thank you for your concern,’ she said, ‘but I know what I’m doing.’

  With a sinking inside, I took that to be a no.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ I said, far from diplomatically. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘We’ll get around to it, but we are both a lot less bothered about such things than you are, or Albert is,’ she said, and I am sure that linking my name with his was designed to annoy me. ‘We have both thrown off the shackles. There really is more to life than that, Dandy.’

  I could not have been more convinced that she was wrong; Robin Laurie keeping her in the background all these years while his brother held the reins showed a great deal of concern for the mundane matters of wealth, name and property, and although it was true that his set was a rackety one I wondered if Ina realised how much more the lapsed ladies in it were made to suffer than the rakes. Well, I had voiced my worries and I was not so keen to be lectured any further about the great wondrous expanse of life beyond my tawdry reckoning that I was going to press the matter.

  ‘And what are your plans for tomorrow?’ I said in a more normal, carrying voice. ‘Do you have guests for Christmas Day?’

  ‘We never have guests,’ she replied and a dip in the conversation of the men told me that she had been overheard. ‘I’m going down to the winter ground,’ she went on. ‘They’re having a roasted pig and fireworks.’

  ‘My love, my love,’ said Albert Wilson, ‘I implore you. You are not yourself, dearest, please let me call for the doctor.’

  ‘I have never been so well in years, Albert,’ said Ina. ‘I have never been so well in my life before.’

  Alec got to his feet and cleared his throat.

  ‘Dr Walker can perhaps prescribe you something calming,’ said Albert. ‘Just until after the New Year and then maybe a little holiday? The seaside?’

  ‘In January?’ said Ina.

  I too stood up then and began to rebutton my coat, which I had not the chance to remove.

  ‘Perhaps we’ll just go straight on down to the ground,’ I said.

  ‘Yes!’ Alec exclaimed. ‘Splendid idea, Dandy.’ We both began to move, with a show of casualness that we did not feel, towards the door.

  ‘Unless by “seaside” you mean that sanatorium again,’ Ina was saying.

  ‘Redroofs is a rest-hotel,’ Albert answered, ‘and it’s always done you such good before. Your nerves, dear …’

  We closed the door behind us and crept away down the marble stairs to the front door and the peace of the circus instead.

  We were not, however, in luck; very far from it. Pa Cooke, evidently having heard the motor car, came striding out of the performing tent in his ringmaster’s coat and britches.

  ‘Looking forward to the show?’ he asked, slapping his whip against his boots. All around the ground, heads were popping out of doors and faces appearing at windows. Tiny and Andrew were the first to emerge fully, coming out of their wagons in their bright suits and red shoes, already with their faces white and with the gaily checked bowlers on their heads above the red wool of their wigs. Behind them from her wagon came Topsy, in crisscrossed tights and with her hair piled high on her head and stuck with feathers, but wrapped in a wool cloak and with galoshes on over her slippers.

  ‘Should be a good one,’ said Pa. ‘Greatest show on earth, as they say.’

  Now Ma Cooke descended the steps of her wagon and came over to us, satin skirts swishing and gold earrings glinting and jouncing at every step.

  ‘Cooke’s Family Circus bouncing back bigger and better than ever,’ said Pa with his arms spread wide.

  Charlie, he too in his wig and make-up, had come out and was staring at his brother, his expression impossible to read behind the enormous painted grin and red-circled cheeks.

  ‘So come on with you,’ cried Pa. He wheeled round and glared at them all. ‘Look lively.’

  Zoya and Kolya Prebrezhensky were here now, wrapped in cloaks like Topsy and looking strange and startled with their black and white make-up gleaming in the darkness.

  ‘The show goes on,’ Pa Cooke shouted, whirling his whip around himself.

  Bill Wolf joined us, standing in his leopard print costume and his long leather boots. He looked a perfect savage with his hair deliberately knotted and teased until it stood out from his head in a tangle.

  It was Andrew Merryman, of all people, who spoke up at last.

  ‘No thanks to you,’ he said.

  There was a moment of silence while everyone stared at Pa, waiting.

  ‘What’s that, boy?’ Pa’s voice was light and easy, more terrible than if he had bellowed it. No one said a word. ‘Speak up,’ said Pa again, and now his voice was shaking. ‘I said, speak!’ He cracked his whip and it sounded like a gunshot. I flinched and Alec did but the others stood their ground.

  ‘You’re killing this circus off, one act at a time,’ Andrew said softly.

  I grasped Alec’s arm but said nothing.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Bill. ‘Like my adagio. Where was the harm in that and you put your foot down and said no.’

  ‘Who wurr you going to work up an adagio with?’ Ma asked. I stared at her. Why was she making this chit-chat after what we had just heard?

  ‘With Anastasia,’ said Bill. ‘But he said no, like the fool he’s turned into.’

  ‘Now here,’ Ma scolded him. ‘I won’t have him spoken to like that.’

  ‘I don’t need your pity, Poll Cooke,’ said Pa. ‘You save it for them as wants it.’

  ‘You tell him he don’t need an act?’ said Zoya, to Pa. ‘How is this fair? And you.’ She turned to Bill. ‘Should be a good example to your children, like Kolya and me. Should work, should show them what circus is.’

  ‘No, you’re missing the point, Zoy,’ said Tiny. ‘Bill works for his place, don’t you? He sits up for Pa like a little dog begging scraps. Keeps his nose clean.’ He was mocking Bill now, his hands held like paws under his chin and his tongue out as he panted and wagged his behind. Bill took a step towards the little man.

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ said Topsy, stepping between them. ‘Size of you, you big bully.’

  ‘I can fight my own damn battles,’ said Tiny, shoving her aside. ‘I’m a man, not a pet lamb.’

  ‘Man?’ said Topsy. ‘You’re worse than a schoolboy with all your games.’

  ‘Is that where you learned them?’ said Andrew. ‘Helps a man to be treated like one, you know.’

  Topsy rounded on him.

  ‘Oh, you’re so good at telling us all how to behave, ain’t you, Andrew Merryman. Seems to me you need to decide whether you’re one of us or not before you start throwing your mouth around.’

  Andrew’s face fell and he turned to Tiny.

  ‘What have you been saying?’ he demanded.

  ‘Don’t start on him,’ Topsy said. ‘I see plenty for myself. I see you sneaking around like we’re not good enough for you. I see plenty of sneaking around folks might wish I didn’t.’

  ‘You mind your mouth, Topsy,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Scared she’s seen you where you shouldn’t have been, eh?’ said Pa. ‘My own brother!’

  ‘You can talk about sneaking around,’ said Bill to Tam.

  ‘What?’ said Ma. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean the horses,’ said Bill. ‘No, I’ve had it, Tam. I’m done with it. Ana was right. He sold Bisou. Roped me in to stand there and look threatening and get him a good price. And I couldn’t refuse, could I? It’s like Tiny says. A dog begging for scraps.’

  ‘But why?’ said Ma, looking at her husband. ‘W
hy would you do that?’

  ‘To keep Ana down of course,’ said Charlie. ‘To stop her looking like what she was. The star of the show. He hasn’t got the sense he was born with.’

  ‘Don’t you talk to me like that,’ Pa shouted at him.

  ‘But why you shoot Harlequin then?’ said Zoya. She had been gabbling furiously to her husband, relaying the words as fast as they came.

  ‘Aye, the poor maid was dead by then,’ said Bill. ‘What was that about?’

  ‘He didn’t,’ I said.

  ‘Hold your tongue!’ thundered Pa, but I went on just as loud if a little less steadily.

  ‘He’s at my house. Pa just wanted him out of the way.’

  ‘What you up to?’ said Ma, staring at him hard.

  ‘Don’t you see?’ Andrew gave a heartless laugh. ‘Can’t you see it? A circus isn’t a circus without animals and look around … what are the only animals left? Pa’s prads.’

  ‘Tint just the beasts,’ said Tiny. ‘He’s holding us back, holding us down. Me, Andrew, Bill and Ana. Topsy’s the only one he’s any time for and only because she won’t say boo.’

  ‘Keep your nose out of my business,’ said Topsy. ‘It’s none of yours. You’ve made that quite clear.’

  ‘Quiet,’ Pa shouted at the top of his voice. ‘Quiet, the lot of you or you’ll all be out on your backsides.’ He looked around them. ‘Every. Last. One. I’m the boss of this circus.’

  ‘And the mess you’re making of it now,’ said Charlie, ‘the things that are coming out now, I think it’s time for a change.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Ma. ‘Me too.’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ said Pa, wheeling round to face her. ‘Don’t you dare stand there and say that.’

  ‘You never had a hope!’ Charlie shouted at him. ‘You couldn’t have beaten her. You couldn’t keep her down. She would have been the boss of you all, in’t that right, Ma?’

  ‘You!’ said Kolya in a thunderous voice, making us all jump. He was glowering at Charlie. ‘You trick us. You make fool.’ Zoya was nodding feverishly fast at his side and she began to shout too.