‘Thanks a lot, Elsie,’ Claire scolded. ‘Just when I was trying to look presentable.’
The lions paced back and forth in their cages, looking bored with the gaping spectators. The pale-faced bears wrestled together in the straw of their enclosure. Three monkeys, including Lula, swung on a collection of ropes and swings inside their cage. Lula scampered over to the bars and performed a cartwheel.
‘Hello, Lula,’ Claire whispered. ‘Don’t you look pretty in your tutu?’
Lula jumped up and down, chittering loudly. She pelted Claire with an empty peanut shell, hitting her on the cheek.
A young boy was feeding peppermints to Empress. He shrieked with delight when her agile trunk snaked towards him to beg another sweet. Attendants, dressed in matching scarlet-and-black uniforms, stood on watch to ensure that the spectators didn’t tease the animals.
From inside the Big Top, Claire could hear the band playing stirring tunes.
‘Not performing tonight?’ came a voice behind her. Claire swung around. It was Kit Hunter, dressed in a dapper grey suit. He held his hat in one hand and smiled at her.
Claire chuckled at the thought. ‘No, I’m definitely not a performer. I’m . . . I’m just helping out for a while. I help Rosina with the animals.’
Kit looked around at all the exotic creatures in the menagerie. ‘It must be exciting to live with the circus though. That Rosina is quite incredible. I can’t imagine her being afraid of anyone or anything.’
Claire nodded. ‘It is fun, but tonight I’m looking forward to seeing the show for the first time.’
‘I am too,’ Kit replied. ‘Why don’t we go in? Where are you sitting?’
‘In the front row,’ said Claire.
‘Me too. Do you want to sit together?’
Jem waved them down the front and they took their places on a wooden bench. Claire stared around her at everyone and everything. She felt a buzz of delight.
A crowd was already seated inside the Big Top. Children jiggled up and down with impatience. In the centre of the tent was a large timber ring painted red and filled with sawdust. It was surrounded by the hippodrome track, a wide strip of flattened grass, and then on three sides by tiers of wooden bench seats.
Uniformed ushers wandered around, selling bags of peanuts and lollies, fairy floss and popcorn. Kit bought a box of salty, buttery popcorn to share with Claire.
The band struck up a familiar, jaunty circus tune. The lights in the tent dimmed. The audience quietened. Spotlights shone on the ring from the rigging.
A tall man, with his dark moustache waxed into points, strode into the centre. He was dressed in white jodhpurs, long riding boots, a white wingtip shirt and bow tie, with black jacket, waistcoat and a black top hat. It was Alf Sterling.
His voice resounded through the Big Top. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages – prepare to be amazed and enchanted, shocked and enthralled. I have the great pleasure to present the one . . . the only . . . the most spectacular show in the world . . . Welcome to Sterling Brothers Circus . . . ’
Everyone craned their neck towards the entrance of the menagerie tent as the grand march began. The band, dressed in red uniforms, belted out a rousing tune from on top of a horsedrawn wagon. A stream of circus folk marched onto the hippodrome track, all dressed in their sparkling, spangled finery. They blew kisses, bowed and cavorted as they paraded around the outside of the ring. The stilt walkers strode past, throwing confetti over the crowd.
Clowns with red noses and white face make-up tripped over their big shoes. They were chased and teased by three tiny clowns, who darted back and forth. Acrobats tumbled and turned with flying somersaults, hand-walking and spinning cartwheels. The liberty horses, six white and six black, trotted around the ring, ostrich plumes on their halters. The aerialists sauntered into the tent in skin-tight costumes, holding their heads and arms high.
The performers were so close that Claire could see the sweat on their foreheads and feel the breeze of their movements as they passed by. The troupe of monkeys pedalled in on tiny bicycles, all dressed in harem costumes. These were followed by seven dogs of all shapes and sizes, clothed in yellow ruffs and tutus.
The clumsy sun bears shambled through the doors wearing boxing gloves and tiny boots on their feet. The three lionesses, the magnificent lion and two cubs were paraded in their golden cage, drawn by two huge draught horses. Sultan roared with anticipation as the cart trundled past.
Lastly, the elephants plodded into the ring. Empress followed the taller Elsie, holding her tail with her trunk. They both wore scarlet rugs trimmed with gold, plumes of scarlet feathers attached to their headgear. Elsie was ridden by an exotic girl in a sparkling crimson dress and ballet slippers. Her headband was affixed with a sequin jewel topped with red ostrich feathers. Claire suddenly realised it was Rosina.
Claire waved. Kit leaned forward, watching intently. Rosina blew them a kiss as she rode past. Claire glanced at Kit. He pushed his hands deep in his pockets and leant back, a slight flush on his cheeks.
After the opening parade, the circus routines began. Claire watched, entranced, as one act followed another. She held her breath as the aerialists swooped and dived, metres above the ground. She laughed until her cheeks ached as the clowns chased and teased and tripped over each other. Acrobats tumbled and flew through the air, somersaulting over the top of the liberty horses cantering around the ring.
Kali the contortionist somehow managed to squeeze her body into a small cardboard suitcase and was locked in. She was carried out by two clowns, still locked inside the case.
There was a drum roll from the band. The spotlights shone on the entrance to the ring. Everyone hushed.
Alf, the ringmaster, boomed out another introduction. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, introducing the beautiful . . . Princess Rosina of Romani. Born into a royal gypsy family, Princess Rosina’s family fled Europe after the Great War. She is now the world-famous bareback rider and equestrienne extraordinaire. Give a big round of applause for our very own Princess Rosina . . .’
The crowd broke into loud applause. A large black Friesian horse galloped into the ring. The scarlet plumes on his bridle danced as he tossed his head. Rosina rode him bareback, waving her hand to the crowd as she circled the ring. A moment later she had swung herself up so she was kneeling on his back. Then she suddenly sprang to her feet and was standing on the horse’s broad rump, her right foot forward and her arms spread wide.
Claire drew in a sharp breath, her heart in her mouth. The horse whooshed past, Rosina poised above. The band played a rousing tune, increasing the tempo and the tension.
Rosina danced on the horse’s rump, changing feet and landing perfectly each time. She jumped up and landed facing backward. She jumped and landed face forward again, but balancing on one leg, the other pointed high behind her in arabesque.
Claire clapped until her palms ached. On the final circuit of the ring, Rosina performed a somersault high in the air, her knees tucked to her chest and her dark hair flying. She landed perfectly on the horse’s rump, her arms stretched out triumphantly and a broad smile on her face. The horse circled the ring once more at a canter while Rosina waved and blew kisses.
Rosina did another somersault and landed lightly on the sawdust in the centre of the ring. The horse followed and stopped beside her. He tucked one leg under his chest and bobbed his head, bowing to the clamouring audience. Rosina rubbed his face and ears, feeding him a chunk of apple from her pocket. Then she, too, curtsied deeply to left, right and centre, her satin ballet shoes pointed daintily.
Alf cracked his whip. Rosina leapt back up onto the horse and together they cantered out of the ring.
‘Let’s give another huge hand to the lovely, the one and only, Princess Rosina and her Friesian stallion Pluto.’ The audience obliged with enthusiasm.
More acts fo
llowed: performing dogs, the tightrope walker, the clowning bears and a fire juggler. Rosina entered the Big Top again, this time walking beside Elsie with Lula on her shoulder. Rosina had changed from her horse-riding tutu into a sparkling, Eastern-inspired outfit with harem pants and a veil. Jem, wearing a turban, rolled out several big pedestals and placed them in the centre.
Alf called out instructions to the massive creatures. Elsie curled her trunk around Rosina’s waist and hoisted her up onto her back. The elephants paraded around the ring, Empress holding Elsie’s tail.
The two elephants sat on the pedestals, balancing on their haunches. They climbed on top of the pedestals with all four legs. Then, upon another command from Alf, they reared up on their hind legs. The crowd roared. All the while Rosina and Lula were perched on Elsie’s back, smiling and waving as the huge animals moved through their paces.
Jem ran out into the ring with another helper. They set up a tightrope suspended half a metre above the ground. On either side were brightly coloured pedestals. There was another drum roll from the band.
Elsie clambered onto a small pedestal, her massive weight balanced precariously on her four feet. Slowly, carefully she stepped out onto the tightrope. There was a loud oooh from the crowd. Claire held her breath. Rosina held both her arms out wide. Elsie inched out, placing one foot after the other, and slowly walked along the tightrope. She flapped her ears and swayed her trunk, as if that helped her huge body to balance.
At last, Elsie stepped down from the pedestal at the other end, the crossing safely completed. She wound her trunk around Rosina’s waist and gently lowered her to the ground. Lula slid down Elsie’s trunk and scampered up onto her mistress’s shoulder. Elsie sank down on one knee, stretched out the other foreleg, and bowed her great head to the sawdust.
The drums rolled and Rosina dropped into a deep curtsy. The crowd roared with appreciation, their applause thunderous. Kit sat on the edge of his seat, clapping loudly.
Claire shook herself to break the spell at intermission. She and Kit wandered out among the crowd, watching the creatures in the menagerie and wandering the sideshows. Claire noticed Jem was selling popcorn at the refreshment stand. Now he was wearing a band uniform with a peaked cap. He smiled at them as he handed over three serves of popcorn to a family.
‘Enjoying the show?’ he asked.
‘You bet,’ said Kit. ‘An extraordinary performance.’
‘It’s amazing,’ Claire added.
‘Did you have a favourite act?’ Jem said. ‘Apart from the brilliant violin playing?’
‘Princess Rosina dancing on horseback,’ said Claire. ‘She was fantastic. She looked like a ballerina up there. How does she keep her balance?’
Jem grinned. ‘She’s very good, isn’t she? She’s a born performer. You know that her flip-flaps on horseback are one of the most dangerous acts in the show?’
‘Really?’ asked Claire. ‘What about the aerialists or the tightrope walkers?’
‘There aren’t any safety nets under a galloping horse,’ explained Jem. He gave a sideways glance at Kit. ‘We’ve had love-sick young men who’ve followed the circus for two hundred miles, swooning over our gorgeous Rosina. Alf usually frightens them off eventually.’
Kit dug his hands in his pockets and looked away. ‘Rosina certainly is something.’
The second act was even better. The dogs walked on their hind legs, jumped through hoops and pushed prams. The monkeys rode on tricycles, scampered across the tightrope and staged a tea party. There was a comic routine where Lula kept stealing props from the clowns and running off with them, mimicking the clowns. The little clowns chased and scolded her, but of course Lula always had the better of them.
Alf the ringmaster stood in the spotlight. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,’ he bellowed. ‘It’s time to introduce our master magician, along with his gorgeous assistant Kali, who will amaze and delight you with his mystifying magic and death-defying disappearing acts. You will hardly believe your very own eyes. A big round of applause for . . . Manfred the Magnificent.’ The band struck up a tune and Manfred stalked into the ring in his top hat and scarlet-lined cloak. He was followed by Kali in a skimpy orange costume.
Manfred took his top hat off, showing the inside to the audience and waving it in the air to prove it was empty. He placed the top hat on a table, flourished a scarlet handkerchief over it, then picked up the hat. Following a theatrical pause, Manfred reached inside and pulled out a small white rabbit. Kali took the rabbit and paraded it around the ring to demonstrate that it was alive.
Manfred then placed a colourful box onto the table, dropping the sides down to show everyone that it was empty. He closed the box back up, popped the rabbit inside, tapped the lid then dropped the sides again to reveal that the white rabbit had completely disappeared.
His final performance was to put Kali into a wooden box on a table. Claire could see her head sticking out from one end, with her black hair hanging down, and her slipper-shod feet sticking out the other end. Manfred took a sharp-toothed saw and cut right through the middle of the box. Claire hugged herself, sucking in her breath.
Manfred pushed two sharp blades down through the sawn slot, then pulled the box apart to show that he had sawn the box in half. Kali lay deathly still, her eyes closed. Claire bit her lip – it seemed impossible that Kali could be alive.
Manfred pushed the two halves of the box together again, removed the blades, flourished his hand over the box, and a moment later Kali leapt out, completely whole. The crowd shrieked in awe as Kali cavorted around the ring, holding Manfred’s hand.
The next act featured Rosina again. Six snow-white liberty horses cantered into the ring and completed a circuit. Rosina rode the leader in a blue costume spangled with silver stars. On the next circuit, the Lipizzaners were joined by six black Friesians, with their long, wavy manes and tails. The twelve horses, alternating black then white, pranced and pirouetted in time to the music. Rosina leapt to the ground several times mid-canter and changed horses.
Alf raised his lunging whip and the horses stopped and sank to the ground. One of the great black stallions reared, then walked on his two hind legs across the sawdust, Rosina clinging on tightly. Alf signalled him to drop back down onto four legs. All twelve horses stood in a row, white then black, kneeling on their right forelegs, heads to the ground, stretching their left leg out in front in a graceful bow.
Rosina’s final act was a Wild West routine, where several trick riders dressed as cowboys and Indians chased each other around the ring, performing dramatic stunts. Rosina was dressed as Red Winona, an Indian maiden, her hair in plaits. She rode bareback, jumping up and down off the brown-and-white skewbald’s back, swinging under its belly and hanging backwards off its rear, whooping loudly all the while.
Claire clapped and cheered. She exchanged admiring glances with Kit.
‘That was terrifying,’ Kit admitted. ‘I thought one of them would fall and be trampled for sure.’
‘But never Rosina,’ Claire said.
The grand finale was a Spanish couple, Adella and Carlos, swinging through the air on the double trapeze, high above the net. Lights twinkled up on the tent ceiling like hundreds of stars. The aerialists swung back and forth, somersaulting from one silver swing to another as though they were flying. Then Adella performed a double somersault and Carlos caught her by her outstretched hands. Claire held her breath until they were safely back on the platforms.
The tent lights glowed brighter and everyone stood. The show was sadly, impossibly over. Claire and Kit wandered out into the cool night air. Claire shivered. All around were crowds of people chatting and laughing. Children screeched with excitement. Families discussed their favourite moments from the performance. But all those people made Claire feel strangely alone.
Kit glanced about the lot, as though he was looking for something. He seemed to have f
orgotten Claire. He turned towards the entry to the lot where his limousine was parked. The chauffeur was chatting to a couple of the circus workers.
Kit held up five fingers. The chauffeur nodded and continued his conversation.
‘Well, thank you for the popcorn,’ said Claire. ‘I should head back to the caravan.’
Kit remembered his manners and smiled. ‘Goodnight, Claire, and thank you for your company. I hope I’ll see you again soon.’
Claire softened and smiled. ‘That would be lovely.’
Claire set off for the caravan but paused part way there and looked back. Kit was wandering between the tents, drinking in the sights and sounds. Is he really my grandfather? Claire wondered. How can I find out? And what is he doing hanging around the circus?
8
Eviction
The next day Alf asked Rosina, Claire and Jem to take all the dogs for a walk early in the morning. There were seven of them, including Jaspar, so the girls had two dogs each on leads, while Jem had the three. Together the three of them sauntered down the main street, taking in the people, houses and sights.
Jem suggested they head left, in the opposite direction to the way they had gone yesterday following Elsie. After a while they branched off the main road and into the residential back streets in search of a park where they could let the dogs run off the lead.
The houses seemed to become shabbier and smaller. There were many signs of neglect, including peeling paint, boarded-up windows and falling-down fences. In a tiny front yard, a woman was hoeing a small vegetable garden. She waved as they passed.
They turned right down another street. Ahead of them was a group of people milling around on the footpath. Three of them wore the navy blue uniforms and caps of police officers. The others were members of a family, with all their furniture piled on the street.
‘Poor blighters,’ whispered Jem as they drew closer. Four young children clung about the skirts of the mother, who was desperately trying not to cry. The father stood to the side, his head down and shoulders slumped. They all looked thin and downtrodden.
The Sequin Star Page 8