by Linda Finlay
‘Hmm. She did. Not sure whether she scarpered or … Anyhow, you’d do well to steer clear of him if you can.’
‘I didn’t realize Big Al charged protection money,’ Colenso said, collecting up their empty dishes. Mara reached out and placed a hand on her arm.
‘Got to make a living, has Al,’ she said, eyeing Colenso intently. ‘Ours is a funny old world, dearie. Most people are honest and easy to get on with, but others …’ she shrugged. ‘That’s when it’s useful to have Big Al and Titan looking out for us.’
‘But to charge …’
‘Look,’ Mara interrupted. ‘Things aren’t always as they appear, so don’t go judging people by what you assume. Like I said, there are some funny people around.’
‘I know,’ she shuddered recalling some of the sights she’d seen earlier. ‘There were these two girls joined together here,’ she said, her hand going to her side. ‘And this horrid, tall man was making a show of them.’
‘That horrid man, as you call him, is Tiny Tim. He and his wife bought the twins when their mother was going to abandon them after they were born.’
‘You mean she took money for them?’ Colenso gasped.
‘Only too happy to be rid of them, apparently. Anyway, Mr and Mrs Tiny nurtured the girls and gave them a happy childhood when they would otherwise have been destined for the poorhouse, or worse. They share a blood and nervous system, so who knows what might have happened to them,’ she sighed. ‘In return, Lisa and Lana are happy to put on a show – freak shows, they’re called – for the benefit of the public. They use their, er, unique condition to satisfy people’s curiosity, which pays for their keep. Can’t argue with that, can you?’
‘No, I suppose not,’ Colenso muttered, swallowing hard. ‘But it doesn’t seem right somehow.’
‘Who’s to say what’s right? Look, dearie, when you’ve lived life as long as I have, you learn not to judge.’
‘Gracious, you make it sound as though you’re old,’ Colenso laughed, embarrassed by her assumptions.
‘Well, I’ve seen more than a few seasons and many a moon, my girl,’ she said, yawning loudly. ‘And sometimes I feel every one of them.’ Remembering Sarah’s words, Colenso stared hard at Mara. Despite the relentless sun of the past few days, there was a pallor to her skin and dark smudges under her eyes.
‘Are you feeling all right, Mara?’ she asked. ‘Only you look a bit pale.’
‘Well, I’ve been stuck in my tent all day, not gallivanting in the sunshine like some. It can be tiring telling plain, pudgy ladies that their prince will soon arrive to sweep them off their feet.’
‘You never do!’ Colenso giggled.
‘Afraid so. That’s all many of these country spinsters live for. It doesn’t do any harm for them to have something to dream about while they’re churning butter and milking cows.’
‘But I thought you said the crystal ball never lies?’ she asked.
‘It doesn’t,’ Mara said, looking serious. Then she shook her head as if clearing it. ‘Sometimes I just embellish a little. Now, what say we have an early night?’
Her mind still buzzing from the events of the day and the weird sights she’d witnessed, Colenso lay back on her cushion and stared out of the window. The inky sky was studded with sparkling stars. As she watched them winking and twinkling like tiny lanterns, she wondered if Kitto was looking up at them too. Only a few days more and she might hear from him. She imagined him reading her card then sitting down at his battered old table to pen a reply. Except …
‘Oh no,’ she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright on the little bed that served as a table during the day.
‘Whatzat, what’s the matter?’ Mara mumbled.
‘I’ve just remembered something.’
‘Can’t it keep it till morning?’
‘No, it’s too important and I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.’
‘What is this mighty revelation that won’t wait?’ Mara sighed, propping herself up on her own cushion.
‘Kitto won’t be able to reply to my card. He can’t read or write,’ she wailed. Mara stared at her in the gathering gloom and let out a long sigh.
‘Blimey, is that all? I thought you’d forgotten to feed old Ears, the fuss you were making.’ Mara huffed. ‘Look, if Kitto’s the resourceful lad you say he is, he’ll find a way. Might even turn up at Truro. I mean it is the Cornwall Show, after all. Now for heaven’s sake, let me get some sleep,’ she muttered, pulling her blanket over her head.
Colenso stared at Mara, desperate to ask if she’d look into her crystal ball but, remembering the last time, didn’t have the courage. Besides, the woman was snoring now. Colenso laid back on her little bed and stared back out at the stars, except they were fast disappearing behind a carpet of cloud. It was a bad omen, she could feel it in her heart.
Chapter 21
Reassured by Mara telling her that Kitto was resourceful and would think of a way to contact her, Colenso threw herself into her new job. With the Panam’s pitch on the edge of the fair still failing to draw many customers, she continued taking her basket around the attractions, selling the cones filled with brightly coloured sweets. By the end of the week, she had become known to the children as ‘the bonbon girl’ and they were eagerly looking out for her. To Jago’s delight, his stocks were almost depleted.
‘Hope Karla’s been making lots of confections while I’ve been gone,’ he said as they began packing up the stall in readiness for the journey to Truro. ‘This fair has turned out to be surprisingly lucrative,’ he grinned, patting his bulging money pouch.
‘Good to hear it,’ Big Al said, appearing behind them.
‘No thanks to this godforsaken pitch,’ Jago said, quickly covering his bag.
‘Then you’ve got Bonbon here to thank,’ the swarthy man continued, winking at Colenso. ‘Make sure you play fair, Jago, know what I mean?’
‘Course, I will. You know me,’ he replied airily.
‘I do,’ Big Al replied, shooting him a level look. ‘Right, Bonbon, I take it you’ve had no trouble from Marco.’ It was more statement than question and Colenso guessed he must have had a word with the Illusionaire.
‘No, I haven’t, although I’ve given his tent a wide berth.’
‘Very sensible,’ Big Al nodded. ‘Got to help yourself. You’d do well to learn from your assistant here,’ he added, turning back to face Jago. ‘Remember what I said.’ With a curt nod, he swaggered over to where swing boats were now being dismantled. Colenso grinned wryly, remembering the first time she’d met him. How different everything seemed now. Dressed as a girl again, she’d been accepted by the travelling people and was beginning to enjoy her new roving life.
‘Ruddy Mr Know-All,’ Jago growled after him. ‘Lives off the back of us, he does.’
‘Mara says he works hard,’ Colenso replied. ‘As have I,’ she added, looking at him expectantly.
‘Yes, well when we get to Truro I’ll work out how much I owe you,’ he muttered, turning back to his packing-up.
‘But …’ Colenso began, not sure how to pursue the matter. ‘Look, Jago, it’s only right you should pay me something now. I can’t continue living off Mara’s generosity.’
‘When did a few wild leaves cost anything?’ His voice was muffled as he’d started taking down the Panam and was hidden under folds of striped canvas. Colenso shook her head. Although Jago was happy when money was coming in, it was becoming increasingly obvious he didn’t like paying any out.
‘I’m looking forward to meeting your sister,’ she said. ‘And learning how to make sweets.’
‘Good,’ he mumbled. ‘See you in Truro,’ he added, bending down to roll up the Panam. Knowing the fair people came together then went their separate ways before meeting up again, Colenso nodded. Her money could wait another day or so.
✳
As the sky lightened to a pearlescent pink, the kumpania began making its way south towards Truro. Colenso walked alongside Mara, hap
py to see the woman had regained some of her colour. They watched as mewling buzzards circled the gentle hills, inhaled the perfume of the rich pink whistling jack and blue columbines, picked comfrey and the hedge woundwort whose leaves contained antiseptic properties for treating wounds.
‘And these make a good mattress-filler,’ Mara told her, pointing to the hedges festooned with creamy white plumes of bedstraw. ‘Sleep on those with your lover and your union will be blessed, as well as having a comfortable romp, of course.’
‘Mara,’ she gasped, feeling the heat stealing across her cheeks.
‘Sorry,’ the woman replied, sounding anything but. ‘But if you make the most of nature’s summer bounty, you’ll be set up for the winter. I can’t believe it’s the first week of June. The summer solstice will be here before we know it.’
‘Mammwynn celebrated Litha by rising before dawn to greet the sun on its day of greatest power.’ Her smile was tinged with sadness as she remembered the excitement of sitting on Mammwynn’s little seat and waiting for the first ray of light to appear. The air was always filled with a sense of expectation, which turned to wonderment as the grey sky turned to blush pink then rosy red.
‘The day the reigns of the Oak and Holly Kings are reversed and old Lord Holly comes into his own once more,’ Mara nodded, breaking into her thoughts.
‘You understand,’ Colenso cried excitedly, for there were many – her father included – who scorned such beliefs.
‘Of course I do.’ There was a moment’s pause. ‘I would have liked your grandmother,’ Mara murmured. She said it in her usual straightforward way and Colenso knew the two women would have got on well.
‘I shall miss celebrating with her this year,’ she sighed.
‘Well, we’re going to Marazion after we’ve done Truro, so we can rejoice together on the beautiful Mount of St Michael. You couldn’t wish for a more serene place to mark the solstice,’ Mara said, reaching out and patting her arm. ‘As long as your Kitto hasn’t whisked you away on his white charger by then,’ she chuckled.
Colenso fell silent as thoughts of Kitto began spinning around in her head once more. How was he and what was he doing? Would she hear from him? Although Mara seemed positive he would contact her somehow, so much had happened that she felt her confidence wavering at times.
‘Look, you can see the china-clay workings over there, which means we’re edging towards Bugle,’ Mara said breaking into her thoughts.
‘Jago pointed out the spoil heaps when we were on our way to Bodmin.’
‘Well, you’re about to see them close up, my girl. I know it brings vital work but those poor people who live here … well, look,’ she sighed, gesturing ahead to little terraces of rundown granite cottages covered in white dust from the mining.
‘Heavens,’ Colenso exclaimed, grimacing at the spoil heaps that towered menacingly over the town.
‘Something to be said for the open road with its fresh, green countryside, eh, my girl?’ Mara said with a sideways glance.
‘And definitely the roar and crash of the waves on the beach, the tang of salt in the air,’ Colenso smiled.
They laboured up the hill then down the other side with overgrown white mountains of old clay waste on both sides of them. The sun beat down relentlessly from a cloudless sky and, as they trudged on, Colenso couldn’t believe how far these people travelled between each fair. Finally, tired and thirsty, they came to a stream where they stopped to water the ponies and have a rest. It was then Colenso noticed Mara wasn’t eating much. The pallor had returned to her skin along with the dark smudges under her eyes.
‘Why don’t you have a sleep in the van?’ she asked as the kumpania made ready to leave.
‘But I won’t have to walk, the road is flat enough for us to ride from here to Grampound where we’ll spend the night. Besides, who would steer old Ears?’
‘Me, of course. I’ve watched you often enough and he should know me by now.’
Mara stared at her thoughtfully. ‘Hear that, Ears,’ she said, patting the pony’s head. ‘Behave yourself for Colenso and you’ll get an extra feed.’ The pony whinnied softly and Mara handed over the reins and climbed into the back of the van.
Colenso carefully steered them back onto the road then followed the trail of wagons as they passed through a valley blanketed with dense woodland before it opened out into farmland and scrub. It was then she felt the stabbing. Her hand went to her chest, except her necklace wasn’t there. She stared around but could see nothing but fields and vegetation. Thinking tiredness was making her edgy, she tried to relax. The others were some way ahead and she urged Ears on, but the pony ignored her and continued plodding at his own pace.
Then she heard the sound of hooves and the rumble of wheels behind them. She turned her head but could only see the side of the vardo. A large, ornately decorated wagon drew alongside making her gasp. The lane was barely wide enough to accommodate both vans, and she held her breath as the two sets of wheels nearly collided. Instead of passing, the wagon slowed to their pace and to her dismay she saw Marco smiling menacingly at her. Slowly, inch by inch, he steered his horses closer. She pulled tightly on the reins but it was no good, the van tilted into a ditch on the side of the road. As she sat there stunned, she heard Marco’s cruel laugh as he whipped his horses and they took off at an alarming rate, the wagon bouncing behind.
‘What the blazes …?’ Mara muttered, appearing beside her. ‘You all right, girl?’ she asked.
‘I think so. It was Marco, he ran me off the road,’ she shook her head, pointing ahead to where his wagon had veered off the lane and was heading north.
‘Bloody man,’ Mara shouted, shaking her fist at him before leaping down and patting Ears. ‘There’s a good boy,’ she crooned. ‘Many a pony would have bolted, but not Ears,’ she told Colenso as she jumped down beside her. Together they studied the van. It was well and truly stuck, with both nearside wheels embedded in the ditch.
‘It’s no good. We’ll never get that out, so we’ll have to leave it here and walk,’ Mara said, unhitching the pony. ‘Get someone from Grampound to come and help us shift it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Colenso murmured.
‘Not your fault. That madman should be locked up.’
‘But why would he do such a thing?’ Colenso persisted.
‘A proud man, is Marco, and you spurned him, didn’t you? Asked you to be his new assistant, didn’t he?’ Mara added, seeing her frown. ‘His ego wouldn’t allow rejection, see? Illusionaire Extraordinaire, indeed. Come on, Ears,’ she said, taking hold of his bridle.
‘So what does he do exactly?’ Colenso asked.
‘Makes things and people disappear,’ she said grimly. ‘Literally.’ Colenso shuddered as they began walking. As if to add to their mood, the sun disappeared behind the clouds that had gathered.
‘Typical,’ Mara muttered. ‘Going to rain now. Still, I guess it’ll wash some of the dust off us.’
They hadn’t gone far when they heard hooves and the rumble of wheels. Spinning round, they saw Big Al waving to them from his wagon.
‘What caused that?’ he asked without preamble, drawing to a halt beside them.
‘I was taking a nap in the back when Marco tried to run Colenso off the road,’ Mara told him, her eyes narrowing to dark slits. ‘Wicked, he is. Time someone put a stop to his trickeries.’
‘Agreed,’ he nodded. ‘You all right?’ he asked, turning to Colenso.
‘Yes, except for landing Mara’s van in a ditch and losing sight of the others,’ she muttered, feeling foolish.
‘Soon fix that. When we get to Grampound, I’ll send Titan and his pal to retrieve the van and you can catch up with your kumpania. They’ll no doubt have a fire going and be brewing up some concoction in their cauldron,’ he laughed, holding out his hand to take the bridle from her before helping them up. Then, with Ears trotting behind, they continued their journey.
The rain was falling in big fat drops now, the leaden s
ky merging with the moors. Thankful to be under cover, Colenso sat back on the seat. Big Al and Mara had their heads close together and were muttering but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. All she could think of was that malicious grin on Marco’s face. The man was mad.
✳
‘Tinks and I are going to see if we can get some offcuts of leather from the tannery before we leave,’ Mara told Colenso. Despite their eventful afternoon the previous day, they were up early and were enjoying their first cuppa of the day. ‘I noticed old Ears’s rein is getting worn when I was leading him yesterday.’
‘It didn’t take Titan and Tory long to recover your van, did it?’ Colenso asked, amazed at the speed with which it had turned up. By the time they’d arrived here, the rain had stopped and the kumpania were cooking chitties over the yag. Colenso still marvelled at the way everyone pulled together, for by the time they’d finished supper, the men had not only recovered the van but set it up alongside the others.
‘Told you Big Al had things organized, didn’t I?’ Mara told her, winding the red scarf around her curls.
‘Jago doesn’t see things that way, does he?’ Colenso asked.
‘No, but then he doesn’t like paying out for anything he deems unnecessary,’ the woman replied. ‘Talk of the devil,’ she added as there was a brisk rapping and the door opened. ‘Let yourself in, why don’t you.’
‘Morning to you an’ all, Mara,’ he grinned. ‘Hear you girls had a spot of bother on the road yesterday.’
‘That Marco had better not show his face, that’s all I’m saying,’ Mara growled.
‘Blimey, that look would scare me,’ he replied, pretending to cower. ‘I’m going to see what delights Karla’s making and I thought you might like to come with me,’ he said to Colenso.
‘I’d love to,’ she cried, excited at the prospect of meeting his sister and seeing how the confections were created. ‘If that’s all right with you, Mara?’
‘See you at the fairground in Truro then. Don’t forget to call in at the post office on your way through, cos you never know,’ she winked.