The Sequin Star

by Belinda Murrell

  ‘Rosina, can you hear me?’ asked Jem, leaning over her. ‘What hurts?’

  Rosina continued to writhe on the ground, biting her lip.

  ‘Claire, run as fast as you can and get Malia,’ Jem ordered. ‘And get some ice from the ice-cream stall.’

  Claire found Malia working in the refreshment stall and quickly explained the situation. Malia hurried off to tend to Rosina, while Claire followed with the ice.

  When Claire returned, Rosina had been moved to the side of the tent. Malia had cut off the leg of one of her pink tights and was gently probing Rosina’s knee. Rosina’s face was screwed up in pain.

  ‘You’ve strained your knee,’ Malia decided as she popped the ice bag on top of the kneecap. ‘I’ll give you some asprin, and you’ll need to rest it for the next couple of days.’

  Rosina bit her lip. Malia gave her two tablets with water, unrolled a bandage from her first-aid kit and began to expertly dress the knee. Two of the clowns hovered nearby.

  ‘You won’t see the bandage under my robes for the elephant ride,’ said Rosina at last, holding the ice bag over her knee. ‘Or under my Red Winona outfit.’

  ‘No, Rosina – you need to rest,’ said Claire. ‘You couldn’t possibly perform like that.’

  Jem and Malia exchanged glances.

  ‘I’m due on any moment,’ Rosina said urgently. ‘The band has nearly finished this tune. We have to hurry.’

  Malia turned to Jem. ‘Go and tell the band to give us a five-minute joey gag.’

  ‘Get out there and juggle,’ Malia ordered the two clowns.

  They ran to obey, gathering balls and torches for an emergency interlude.

  ‘I’ll get the bulls from the menagerie,’ explained Malia. ‘You help Rosina get changed into her harem girl outfit. Just be careful of that knee.’

  Claire paused, reluctant to risk injuring Rosina further. ‘But Rosina could be –’

  ‘And do it fast.’ Malia was already halfway out of the tent.

  The costumes for quick changes were hanging on a rack against the canvas wall, stored in calico bags. Claire found the filmy harem pants, veil and spangled crop top. Rosina slipped the tutu off and gingerly pulled on the new costume. Claire helped her ease the pants over the injured knee. Rosina leant back against the contortionist’s suitcase, her eyes closed and face pale.

  Claire could hear the sound of laughter coming from the Big Top as the clowns played tricks, stealing and swapping each other’s juggling props.

  ‘You don’t need to do this, Rosina,’ Claire urged. ‘You could do some serious damage to your knee and make it worse.’

  Rosina bit her lip and opened her eyes. ‘The elephants are one of the most important acts in the show,’ she explained. ‘I can’t let everybody down. I can’t let the circus down. Besides, it’s bad luck to miss an act!’

  Jem popped back to check on their progress. Malia returned, leading Elsie and Empress, already harnessed in their headgear. Elsie curled her trunk over and blew a raspberry kiss on Rosina’s cheek. Rosina stroked her gently.

  Rosina smiled wanly. ‘I’m okay, girl. Let’s go and wow the townies. Hup.’

  Elsie lifted Rosina and set her on top of her head. Rosina grimaced as she swung her good leg over Elsie’s neck and settled in behind her grey-and-pink speckled ears. Jem ran back to join the band and tell them that Rosina was ready to perform.

  Claire peeked through the curtain. She could see Kit leaning forward, looking all around the Big Top as the clowns made a final tumbling circuit of the ring. The clowns charged through the crimson curtain, carrying their props.

  ‘She all right?’ asked Topsy the clown.

  Claire shrugged as she took the torches and put them away. The spotlights shone. The drum rolled.

  ‘Tail up,’ Rosina commanded. Empress reached forward and grasped Elsie’s tail. ‘Trunk up.’ Both elephants curled their trunks up into a salute. Ringmaster Alf boomed out his introduction.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls – and now to amaze and delight you, to enthrall and inspire you – our very own elephant rider, Princess Rosina.’

  ‘Walk on,’ Rosina cried. She pasted on her brilliant smile, raised her arm and the two elephants strolled into the limelight.

  The crowd cheered and clapped. Claire saw Kit settle back on his bench, a smile of relief on his face as he saw Rosina riding Elsie.

  Claire noticed that the act was subtly different than it had been on the previous night, but none of the townies would notice. Rosina just stayed on Elsie’s back and rode.

  After Elsie’s tightrope act, Rosina did not dismount when Elsie and Empress bowed. The applause thundered. The elephants turned and sauntered back through the curtain and into the prop tent. Jem and another roustabout followed, carrying off the elephant tubs and tightrope equipment.

  Jem hurried to help Rosina slither off Elsie’s back. ‘You all right, knucklehead?’ he asked, taking her arm.

  Rosina nodded as she collapsed onto a mattress that Malia had made from rolled up canvas and stuffed chaff sacks. She closed her eyes.

  ‘Claire, get some more ice,’ ordered Malia. ‘Rosina, dear, take some more painkillers. Then you can have a lovely rest right here.’

  Jem raced back to his place in the band. Rosina lay there with the icepack on her knee.

  During intermission, a fair head popped around the canvas flap leading to the lot. It was Kit, looking worried. He smiled at Rosina and then at Claire.

  Rosina seemed to perk up. She wriggled herself into a sitting position and smiled back. Kit wandered in through the flap and stood by the bed. Rosina tucked a curl of hair behind one ear.

  ‘I’m awfully sorry to intrude,’ Kit said. ‘But I asked your friend Jem on the ice-cream stall if everything was all right. I thought you might have hurt yourself in your tumbling act?’

  Rosina gestured to the icepack on her knee. ‘I hope it wasn’t as obvious as all that,’ she said. ‘I had just convinced myself that none of the townies would’ve noticed.’

  Kit grinned. ‘I probably wouldn’t have noticed a thing, but Claire and I saw the whole performance only yesterday, and I realised it was a bit different. Plus, I thought I saw you limp.’

  ‘It’s quite nasty,’ Claire said, ‘but she still insisted on riding Elsie.’

  Kit nodded, looking at Rosina with appreciative eyes. Rosina fussed with the cushion under her knee, moving it into a more comfortable position.

  ‘That act is quite extraordinary,’ Kit enthused. ‘How on earth do you train an elephant to walk a tightrope?’

  ‘Now that would be giving away a show secret,’ joked Rosina, smiling enigmatically. Kit looked disappointed.

  ‘Oh, come on, Rosina,’ Claire begged. ‘Tell us.’

  Rosina waved her hand in the air. ‘It’s the same as training any of the animals in the circus. Alf and Malia believe in treating the animals well, using lots of patience and rewarding them with affection and treats.’

  Kit sat down on one of the elephant tubs nearby. ‘But still, it is incredible to see that huge elephant balancing on a tightrope – raised up off the ground – with you on its back.’

  Rosina pointed to the elephant tightrope equipment that was stacked against the opposite wall. ‘For a start, it’s not exactly a rope, but a narrow steel plank with rope wrapped around it.’ Kit and Claire examined the plank to see how it was cleverly disguised.

  ‘Then we lay the plank on the ground and encourage the elephant to walk across it. When she is happy walking on the plank, we raise it slightly off the ground and keep practising. In Elsie’s case, we gradually raised it until she was as happy walking on it a few feet in the air as she had been when it was flat on the grass.’

  Kit grinned. ‘The secret is revealed. I refuse to be impressed after all.’

  Claire thought for a momen
t. ‘So, you don’t hurt Elsie to make her do those tricks?’

  Rosina looked at Claire with distaste. ‘Would you be stupid enough to hurt an animal who weighs about three tons and could you crush you in a split second? Not to mention one costing about two thousand pounds, so certainly worth more to the circus than either you or me!’

  ‘I only wondered if –’ Claire began.

  ‘Sorry, I get a bit impatient sometimes,’ Rosina apologised, wrinkling her nose. ‘Lots of people assume that we’re cruel to our animals, and I suppose that does happen in some circuses, but most of the performers here love their animals like members of the family.’

  Claire nodded.

  ‘In fact, Alf caught Flash Frank hitting our lion Sultan with a whip,’ Rosina confessed. ‘And Alf took the whip and used it unmercifully on Frank. He said if he ever caught him hitting another animal on the lot, he would be thrown in the dung hill and left behind without a penny.’

  ‘Oh, that is terrible,’ said Claire. ‘But why whip him? Why didn’t he just fire him?’

  Kit looked at Claire and shrugged. ‘Better to punish him than leave him to starve on the side of the road, I guess.’

  Rosina nodded. ‘Not that the food in the circus is anything to be thrilled about. Usually the animals get fed better than us,’ she added with a laugh. ‘They at least are spared the bread and gravy that we get after a poor show.’ She pulled a disgusted face.

  Kit chuckled. ‘I can’t understand why you’re com­­plaining.’

  A string of performing dogs bounded through the flap in their yellow ruffs, accompanied by Jem, Frank, Roy and Malia. Frank and Roy glared suspiciously at Kit.

  Malia also frowned at the stranger in their midst. ‘Intermission is over.’

  Kit stood up, holding his hat and nodding. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

  ‘Malia, this is our friend, Kit Hunter,’ Rosina gestured at Kit. ‘Kit, this is my circus mother, Malia Sterling. Kit came to see if I was all right after the fall. He’s cheered me up beautifully.’

  ‘Glad to meet you, ma’am,’ said Kit, shaking her hand. ‘May I congratulate you all on a fabulous program. I just hope that your star performer is not injured for too long.’

  Rosina glanced away quickly, her cheeks pink.

  Malia looked at Rosina, suppressing a smile. ‘I think she’ll need to rest for a few days. Luckily tomorrow’s Sunday, so there’s no performance. I hope she’ll be well enough to go to the opening of the Sydney Harbour Bridge next week. It would be an awful shame to miss it.’

  ‘Nothing on earth would make me miss that,’ insisted Rosina, the smile dropping from her face. ‘I’ll go even if I have to ride Elsie onto the bridge.’

  ‘That might upset our beloved Premier, Mr Lang, more than a showdown with the New Guard,’ joked Jem. ‘Better I push you in a wheelbarrow!’

  Frank snorted. ‘The blasted New Guard better not try to have a showdown with Mr Lang, or there’ll be real trouble.’ He glared at Kit disdainfully. ‘Those New Guard nobs are just a bunch of fat old businessmen and spoilt rich kids running around, playing at being soldiers. The battlers won’t put up with any nonsense from them.’

  Kit raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, I had best get back to my seat or I’ll miss the second half.’

  Jem hurried off to rejoin the band. At a command from Malia, the dogs trotted into the ring, pushing their prams.

  Claire turned to Rosina, who was lying down again.

  ‘Rosina, who are the New Guard that Frank was talking about?’ asked Claire. ‘And why would they have a showdown with the Premier?’

  Rosina laughed. ‘Don’t you know anything, Claire?’

  Claire flushed and turned away. Rosina sighed. ‘Well, the current Labor Premier of New South Wales is Jack Lang, affectionately known as the Big Fella. He has implemented lots of changes to try to make life easier for the workers during the depression. He’s also passed laws to make it harder for landlords to evict unemployed tenants and is trying to create relief jobs through government spending.’

  ‘That sounds good,’ said Claire cautiously.

  ‘The workers love him,’ agreed Rosina. ‘But the wealthy business people hate him. They think he’s a communist who is threatening to overturn their way of life. They think that Australia is on the verge of a communist revolution, like in Russia.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ Claire scoffed. ‘Australia won’t become a communist country. That’s just a lot of scaremongering.’ She remembered learning about communism in history at school. People had feared that communism would spread throughout the world like a disease.

  ‘Perhaps,’ continued Rosina, ‘but thousands of Australians would disagree with you. The New Guard was formed last year by Colonel Eric Campbell to protect Australia from communist threat and preserve traditional values. The organisation has fifty thousand members just here in Sydney.’

  ‘Fifty thousand members?’ repeated Claire. ‘That’s huge.’

  ‘Many of them are soldiers who fought in the Great War, so they’re experienced with military operations,’ continued Rosina. ‘There are rumours that the New Guard plan to kidnap Lang or overthrow the elected government to stop him from opening the Harbour Bridge.’

  Claire frowned. ‘Why don’t they want Mr Lang to open the bridge?’

  Rosina shifted into a more comfortable position, moving the cushion under her knee. ‘It’s complicated, but basically they think it should be the King or the Governor-General – the King’s representative – not a Labor premier.’

  ‘They would overthrow the government over who cuts the official ribbon?’ asked Claire in disbelief.

  Rosina grinned. ‘Sounds crazier than a circus, doesn’t it?’

  Frank led the monkeys into the Big Top as the dogs ran off, barking happily while they were fed their post-performance treats. Claire went back to work, hurriedly putting away the prams used in the dog act. Lula did not perform as enthusiastically as she usually did with the clowns. When she came off she climbed straight into bed with Rosina, chittering softly and snuggling up to her chest. Rosina stroked her little head and murmured comforting words.

  Malia squatted down next to Rosina. ‘It’s nearly time for the liberty horses act, Rosina, but I think Alf can do it without you tonight.’

  Rosina sat up. ‘I can do it,’ she assured Malia.

  ‘I know you can,’ Malia replied, ‘but the horses can also do it without you.’

  ‘What about the Wild West act?’

  ‘No, Rosina,’ interrupted Claire. ‘You mustn’t. That act is dangerous enough when you are fit. You could be killed with a knee injury.’

  Malia smiled at Claire. ‘We won’t let her kill herself – she took too long to train!’

  Rosina shook her head. ‘What if I rode but didn’t do any tricks?’ she asked. ‘I could just canter around the ring once or twice with the cowboys chasing me and whoop a few times. The cowboys could do all the fancy tricks.’

  Malia thought for a moment. She checked Rosina’s knee again. It was still painful, but the ice and painkillers had reduced the inflammation.

  ‘No tricks, understand?’ Malia demanded. ‘Not even riding backwards.’

  Rosina grinned. ‘Understood. I’m too frightened to disobey your orders, Malia. You’re much scarier than Alf when you want to be.’

  ‘Good,’ she said with a nod before turning to Claire. ‘Can you find the Winona costume and we’ll help Rosina get changed?’

  Malia set to work patting on the heavy brown greasepaint, which transformed Rosina’s fair skin into that of an Indian warrior maiden.

  True to her word, Rosina did not attempt any tricks in the Wild West act. She stayed on her horse and circled the ring twice, holding the reins in one hand and whooping loudly as she rapidly covered and uncovered her mouth with the other hand. The cowboys chasing her did all the h
ard work – standing in the stirrups; hanging off the side of the saddle; dangling backwards over the horses’ rumps, hanging on by only their feet; and leaping up and down from the saddle.

  Rosina left the ring early and returned to the prop tent. Her brown-and-white painted horse stood patiently.

  ‘Claire, could you help me, please?’ asked Rosina. She was so exhausted she was swaying in the saddle. ‘If I ride back to the caravan, could you help me down and into bed?’

  ‘Of course I can,’ replied Claire. ‘Are you all right?’

  Rosina just nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. Claire walked back to the caravan beside the horse and tied it to the tow bar. She struggled to support Rosina as she slid off the horse, hobbled up the stairs and onto her bunk.

  10

  High Tea

  Rosina had the next day off to rest. Claire and Jem spent the morning doing Rosina’s chores as well as their own. Claire was just heading back from feeding the monkeys when she saw a long, black limousine pull onto the front of the lot, attracting a lot of attention from the circus workers.

  A uniformed chauffeur emerged and opened the rear door. Out climbed Kit, as impeccably dressed as always. The chauffeur opened the boot and took out a large cane basket and a bunch of white flowers.

  I wonder what Kit is up to now? Claire thought. She wandered over to meet him, swinging her empty bucket.

  ‘Good morning, Claire,’ Kit said with a smile. ‘I come bearing gifts for the patient. How is she today?’

  ‘Still sore and sorry for herself,’ replied Claire. ‘Would you like to come and see her?’

  ‘Would that be all right?’ asked Kit. ‘I don’t want to intrude if she’s not well. I was just planning to leave a little something for her.’

  ‘It will probably cheer her up to have some company,’ Claire admitted. ‘She’s been grumpy all day because Malia said she had to keep her leg up and iced. She can’t do anything. Jem and I decided it was safer to stay away.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like much fun. Let me just tell my driver to take a break.’