Flight of a Starling

by Lisa Heathfield

  “What about her?” I try to keep my voice light.

  “I need your word that you won’t say anything. Not until I’ve decided what to do.”

  “OK.” How can he know secrets I don’t?

  “She’s been with Dean. I caught them. They were mucking about on the trapeze this morning and jumping into the net.”

  “Oh,” is all I say. We’ll never tame you, Lo.

  “You don’t seem surprised,” Rob says.

  “I don’t think I am.”

  “You knew?”

  “Not about the big top. I didn’t know they were in there.”

  “But about Dean? You knew she was still seeing him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your dad will go nuts. He thought she wouldn’t see Dean again.”

  “He doesn’t have to know.”

  “I think I have a duty to tell him.”

  “A duty?”

  “It was really dangerous, Rita. What they were doing. She could have got Dean killed.”

  “But she didn’t.” I touch his arm without thinking.

  “You know the circus rules. Flatties are out of bounds.”

  “You were a flattie,” I remind him, my words edging toward admitting something I barely understand myself.

  “It’s different. I’m here now, committed to you all.”

  “She really likes him, Rob.”

  But he shakes his head at me. “Our circus is too small, Rita. We can’t afford to lose a member, or it’ll all fall apart.”

  “We won’t lose Lo,” I tell him.

  “But what if she decides she really wants to be with him? That she leaves us to live with him?”

  “That’ll never happen, Rob. Lo’s blood is with us.”

  “Do you think she really believes that?” Rob looking at me makes my breathing too shallow.

  “I think so,” I say quietly.

  “I don’t know.” He stares down at his shoes, next to my bare feet.

  “Have you ever felt like that?” I ask. My heart is beating so hard I think it’ll break from my skin. “Really liked someone, when you’re not meant to?”

  He stops and the room stops and my heart stops too.

  When he looks up at me, I’m sure there’s something different in his eyes.

  “Maybe,” he says. And he’s so close to me that I lean forward and I kiss him. Rob’s lips are on mine, and it’s what I’ve thought about and dreamed about and wanted, but it feels different than it’s meant to, than I thought it would, because he’s not Ash, and guilt swoops in and clamps so hard around my heart that I don’t know how I breathe.

  Rob stops us. “Rita,” he says, shaking his head hard as though to dislodge the me and him that’s somewhere in his mind.

  I put my hand on his cheek.

  “It’s OK,” I say, and I lean in and kiss him again. He’s not as soft as Ash, or as gentle as Ash, but I know I want him.

  “We can’t do this, Rita,” he says, moving from me.

  “We can.”

  I push Ash far, far away. Because it’s Rob I should be with, it’s Rob I want to wake up next to me each day.

  And so I kiss him a third time, feel his hand resting on my leg, underneath Lo’s T-shirt.

  “Lo will be back soon,” he says. His breath is strange. “I’ve got to go, Rita.”

  “I know,” I say, but I don’t think he wants to. He’s standing up, leaning against the ladder. I try not to hear the witch’s sharp nails. “I’ll see you soon.” And he moves away and goes out of the bedroom. I hear him open the front door and then it closes and there’s the silence of him gone.

  I put my fingers to my lips, where he kissed them.

  I’m sorry, Ash.

  But I’m so happy that I start to laugh.

  I pull Lo’s T-shirt long over my knees, tuck myself into the smallest I can go and tip myself onto her bed. I close my eyes, my blood sparkling.

  Lo

  Gramps sits on his chair again, the bruise on his cheek already fading. He’s feeding himself slowly, his tray balanced on the blanket on his lap. Tricks bought the fish for us from a hut on the beach. Its salty smell sticks to me, as it flakes between my teeth.

  Rita puts down her knife and fork. She looks at me briefly.

  “I think I’m in love with Rob,” she says. The air snaps.

  Dad’s fork is on his plate. Ma’s hovers midway to her lips.

  “What on earth are you talking about, Rita?” Dad says.

  “I want to be with Rob,” she says.

  It’s silent, apart from our dad scraping food onto his fork and putting it into his mouth. I watch my mom. She stays sitting upright, but her face is falling apart bit by bit.

  “I’m sorry if it’s a shock,” Rita says. Her smile is beginning to fade, but her eyes are still strong.

  “You’re being ridiculous, Rita.” Anger is beginning to tick through Dad’s words. “He’s old enough to be your father.”

  “No he’s not.” She tries to laugh. “He’s only thirteen years older. It’s not a much bigger difference than Gramps and Grandma Margaret had.”

  Gramps has stopped eating. He’s watching Rita with wise eyes.

  “It’s just a childish crush,” Dad says determinedly.

  “I’m not a child,” Rita says.

  “Yes you are. You’re my child and I’ve had enough of this nonsense.”

  “It’s not nonsense.” Rita is staying so calm, so strong.

  “But you’re with Ash,” Ma says. She doesn’t look at me. I know Rita’s words will burn her in a different way to Dad and she won’t want to see that in my eyes.

  “I’m not with Ash, not really.” But Rita almost winces as she says it, as though she feels Ash’s hurt. “Rob feels the same way about me too,” she says, her voice shaking.

  Dad slams the table with his fist, hard enough for his plate to lift and clatter. He’s so blinded by anger that he doesn’t see his wife’s breathing split.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he shouts.

  “It means that he likes me.”

  There’s betrayal at the edge of Ma’s eyes. I think I’m the only one who can see the humiliation seeping out of her bones.

  “Your dad is right,” she manages to say. “Rob is not the right person for you.” Each word must scorch her mouth.

  Dad suddenly pushes his plate away.

  “Wait,” Ma says, grabbing his arm. “Calm down.”

  “Calm down?” I’ve never heard my dad shout like this. I think the walls will fall and the ceiling will crash.

  “Maybe,” says Gramps quietly, “we should try to listen to Rita.”

  But Dad just glares at him. “I won’t hear any more of it,” he says.

  Ma’s face is so white and her hands are shaking.

  “This won’t get us anywhere,” she says, as my sister sits in the center of her storm. Rita’s trying not to cry, as Ma gets up and walks quickly toward the bathroom. The door closes with a click behind her.

  Dad’s ragged breaths fill the space. He looks at me.

  “Did you know about this?”

  I can only nod.

  “Right.” He pushes his hands on the table to help himself stand. There’s power at the end of his fingertips and I’m scared where this anger will take him. “Wait here.” And in a few short steps he’s out of the front door.

  “Why are you not helping me?” Rita quietly asks me. “Is it because I said you shouldn’t be with Dean?”

  “How do you know Rob likes you?” I ask, but she only looks at me. “This is worse than being with a flattie,” I tell her.

  “How? At least I wouldn’t need to leave the circus to be with Rob.”

  The bathroom is close enough for Ma to hear it all. I bet she wishes she could stay in there forever, but she must know she can’t as the door opens. She comes out and goes to the sink, fills a glass of water and puts it in front of Rita.

  “Where’s your dad?” she asks.

  “
I don’t know,” Rita says.

  “I think he’s gone to talk to Rob,” I tell her, but she doesn’t react. There’s a mask across her face, and it’s drained her emotions.

  “To bring him here?”

  “Maybe.”

  The air feels a tight, twisted mess. I’ve wanted so long to shake sense into my mom, but now I wish I could run her away from it all.

  Dad’s feet are heavy up the steps. He storms through the door, his face bruise-red. Rob is behind him, and for the first time ever, I see true fear in his eyes.

  Dad stands square in front of him.

  “I want you to tell me exactly what’s going on,” he says.

  Rob looks first to Ma. I don’t know if he even sees Rita sitting here, needing to disappear.

  “What do you mean?” Rob asks, as Ma holds his gaze, her expression cold.

  “You and Rita.” Dad can barely squeeze the words through his teeth.

  “Me and Rita?” A line of relief stretches from Rob to Ma, so taut I could snap it, but Dad can’t see.

  “She seems to have ideas.”

  “Ideas?”

  “That you’re in a relationship.”

  “That’s not what I said.” A blush rises fast to Rita’s cheeks.

  “Then remind me exactly what you did say,” Dad says.

  “Leave it, Dad.” It’s almost unbearable watching Rita wanting to escape, so finally I speak.

  “I don’t think you should talk, since you’ve been encouraging it.”

  I’ve never heard Dad like this, with words so sharp they hurt.

  “I haven’t been,” I say.

  “There’s nothing to encourage,” Rob interrupts. He seems completely confused, looking from Dad to Rita. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ray.” And it’s enough to make my dad falter.

  “Have you ever made my daughter think you could be with her?” he asks.

  “Never,” Rob says. “Why would I do that?” His face is set so straight in innocence that I begin to wonder where the truth is. He looks at Ma. “You have to believe me.” And I see it, as he begs. How somehow he’s let his heart truly fall for her. But now she only looks back with disgust in her eyes.

  “Rita?” Dad demands, blind to everything.

  “I didn’t say it was a relationship,” she says quietly.

  “It?” Rob asks. “What’s ‘it’?”

  “Nothing,” she says. She won’t look at any of us.

  “I didn’t want to drag you into it,” Rob says awkwardly, “because it’s embarrassing for Rita. She’s got a bit of a thing for me, Ray. I’ve had to talk to her a couple of times, you know, make it clear. But I’m absolutely not attracted to her. You have my word.”

  Rita’s looking down at her fingers, picking at the skin around her thumb. I see how she breathes, see the look on her face and instantly I know that her feelings are true.

  “I think you’d better leave, Rob,” Ma says.

  “No, it’s all right, we’re going,” I say. I pull Rita up, and she starts crying as I put my arms around her.

  Dad breathes out heavily.

  “I think we owe Rob an apology,” he says.

  “She certainly doesn’t,” I snap.

  “Lo.” The echo of his anger is still here, but I ignore him as I pull her from the room, away from Mada, away from it all.

  Rita

  Lo slams Mada’s door hard behind us, and she doesn’t let go of my hand as she pulls me with her down the steps.

  “You’re OK, Rites,” she says. I try to make her words flatten my tears, but it doesn’t work. We go quickly into Terini, away from gossiping eyes.

  “They’ll all find out,” I say, but Lo just closes our front door and stops to hug me tight.

  “They won’t, because we won’t say anything. And even if they do, then it doesn’t matter what they think.”

  “But I don’t want Ash to know.” I couldn’t bear to see the betrayal in his eyes.

  I sit heavily on the floor, and Lo strokes my hair as she lets me cry.

  “I didn’t make it all up, Lo.”

  “I know.”

  She wipes her thumbs under my eyes, and I look at the skin on them, streaked with black.

  “You look worse than Lil,” she says, and her smile tries to make it all better. When she stops still and looks at me, I know she wants the truth.

  “Why did you do it?” she asks.

  “You said we can’t help who we fall for.” My anger is heading at her, at the wrong person.

  “But Rob? He couldn’t have liked you back. Not like that.”

  I’m absolutely not attracted to her.

  I don’t hesitate. “No.”

  But he kissed me. I remember.

  Lo breathes out heavily. “Good.”

  “What’s wrong with me, Lo?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with you.”

  “Why didn’t he like me then?”

  “He’s not right for you. That’s all. He never has been and he never will be.”

  “But I really thought I liked him. I thought he liked me.” I feel the embarrassment twist up my legs and settle sour in my stomach. “How can I even see him again now?”

  “You mustn’t care what he thinks. He’s not worth it.” Lo’s eyes are so serious. “He’s not really one of us, Rita,” she says. “He’s just a flattie who joined us. He hasn’t got our blood. His circus begins and ends with him. One day he’ll disappear, and he won’t even look back.”

  “I don’t want him to.”

  “I know. But he has flattie bones, and he can never change that.”

  “Like Dean?”

  Lo hesitates and looks down. “Yes. Like Dean.”

  “Has something happened?”

  “I don’t know. We had a row. He said it was impossible.”

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “I didn’t know how to.” Now I can see it, how the spark has gone from her eyes.

  “We don’t really know them, do we? Not really?”

  “No.”

  I reach over to hold Lo’s hand again.

  “I thought I knew Rob. I trusted him,” I say.

  “So did I.”

  When I put my head on her shoulder, she rests against me.

  “So it’s back to me and Ash and you and Spider.” I think that she’ll at least smile, but I can tell that she doesn’t.

  “Ash is good. And he’ll love you to the ends of the earth,” Lo says.

  “He will, won’t he?”

  “It was always right there in front of you.”

  “I thought I wanted more.”

  “Love is enough, Rita.”

  “But not for you and Spider.”

  She doesn’t answer. She just sits still, her hand in mine.

  Lo

  Sarah crouches tiny in a hoop above the tightrope. She shakes the feathers from her human body and they drift like stars to the floor. There’s silence as they fall, all eyes watching them float strange in the spotlight.

  I’m at one end of the tightrope, and it’s time for me to go home. The silver line stretches in front of me as music sweeps in, and I know that I must walk.

  The bar in my hands is light and steady. It’s the difference between keeping me straight and making me fall. I used to love this. To be so caught, yet so free, balancing between this world and the next. But tonight, it’s different. There’s something in me that wants to jump, to fly away from it all.

  I feel the eyes on me now, looking up as I move forward. Underneath my feet the wire rocks slightly, but I know I’m safe.

  When I’m close to Sarah I call to her, and she holds out her hand. But a flash of light shows another hoop, so close I can almost touch it. Rita sits there, her fairy queen costume silver now, weighed with sequins for the end of the show. From the ledge, Spider throws her fire-sticks and they fly lit with flames, spinning through the air. Rita catches them and twists them high above her again, enough time for Tricks to lower Sarah’s hoop
so fast to the ground that the audience gasps.

  She jumps into her parents’ arms. They take the feathers from her hair, pass her the rag doll that’s been waiting.

  I hook the balancing pole to the tightrope and I leap. Just high enough to reach the hoop of the fairy queen, just far enough to get myself home.

  Behind the ring door curtains, I let go of Rita’s hand.

  “I’ve got a headache,” I say. “I’m going to get a drink of water.”

  “I’ll let Ma know you won’t be long,” she says.

  I don’t tell her that I’m not coming back for clear-up. If I warn them, they’ll make me, and I just need to be alone.

  Instead, I run outside, into a rain that batters the feathers in my hair and sticks my performing clothes closer to my body. My thick make-up will smudge, but I don’t care. I feel the water sink through my skin and into my empty inside. It fills me up, until it breaks my throat and makes me cry.

  I run up our steps and through Terini’s door, into a van I don’t want to be in. It’s part of a family that’s broken, but no one can see. I’m alone, watching the cracks get bigger and they reach my head and pulse heavy and thick in there.

  Under Rita’s pillow I find the half-empty packet of painkillers, a silver slice with raised white dots. Five of the circles are crumpled and empty.

  In the kitchen I turn on the tap. The cold water feels warm against my damp skin. I watch the glass as it fills, the line rising higher to the top. I imagine floating in it, the wings of my costume spreading out behind my back. The audience shrinks to standing around the edge, looking at my body nearing the rim.

  I press one of the pills onto my hand. It’s hard on my tongue and the swallow of water pushes it back. I should stop at two, but suddenly I want to see where their white wheels will take me.

  “This is because of you, Rob,” I say. “And this.” One more.

  “And this.” These will help dull the pain. These will take it all away.

  Rita’s packet is empty in my hands. I put it in the bin and go into the bathroom. There are two more packets of acetaminophen. One is full, with ten new pills, the other has six dotted in its silvery paper.

  In my bedroom, I sit on my bed.

  “This is for hurting my dad,” I tell Rob. I drop three into my palm and take them all.