by Janet Gover
His father cast him a sideways glance, then turned back to the road. Finn felt a moment of relief. Connor used to get away with stuff like that, but his brother was bigger than their father and Finn suspected that, like most bullies, Ron was a coward at heart. Connor had left last year, promising to come back for Finn. He hadn’t done that yet. As for his mother … she hadn’t been around for a while. Finn remembered her as a timid and slightly frail woman who had vanished one night several years ago. He told himself he wasn’t angry at either of them for abandoning him, not any more. But somewhere deep inside him, that anger still shared a place with pain and disappointment. He didn’t understand why nobody would stay with him. Or help him. Or love him.
One of these days, Finn would be big enough to stand up to his father too. But knowing that didn’t help right now. He subsided into silence and stared out the window.
‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’ll make sure we aren’t stuck here too long. Just a few weeks to do some maintenance and rehearse the new acts until I’m happy with them. We’ve already got a busy schedule for the new year, and it won’t take me long to get this lot beaten into shape.’
Finn winced at his father’s choice of words.
Ron had taken over as ringmaster of the circus just a few months ago, when the previous ringmaster left. No-one had wanted him to go. He was a good man and a great ringmaster, but a lot of things had changed in the wake of the accident, and that was one of them. Not that any of the blame had ever been laid at the ringmaster’s feet by anyone other than himself. Simon would have been the obvious choice for ringmaster if he hadn’t been hurt. Instead the circus had been handed to the next most senior man while Simon and his grandmother had withdrawn to grieve their loss. It hadn’t taken long for things to start to change, at least for Finn. His father had always been short tempered, but now … Finn rubbed the place on his arm that was still sore from their last conversation about his future.
Finn stared out the window as the town passed by. He spotted a crowd of people outside what was obviously a church. It was Sunday, of course. It was easy to lose track of days when you were on the road. A group of kids about his own age were clustered near the church gate, their eager eyes watching his truck drive past. He raised his arm to wave. One of them waved back, a girl about his own age, with wild hair that framed a pretty face. That was nice. All the girls in the troupe were sort of like sisters to him and they knew him too well. The girls in the towns where they performed … well, they were great. They were always excited by a circus performer, but the circus never stayed in one town more than a few days. He had moments with the girls, nothing that lasted longer than a few days. He looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the group of girls looking at the truck. This might not be such a bad place to spend their summer break after all.
Finn barely glanced at the school as they passed it. That sort of place wasn’t for him. Everything he needed to know, he’d learned in the circus. His classroom was the circus and the road. As long as he had enough maths to tally the night’s takings, enough geography to find the next town and enough physics to understand how to juggle, he had all he needed.
A few minutes later, his father braked and swung their vehicle off the road and through a newly constructed gateway.
Finn leaned out the window, trying to see the place he would be staying for the next few weeks. There were paddocks with tall gum trees either side of the gravel road leading to a cluster of buildings. He could see one large tin shed that was old and a bit rusty around the edges. Next to it, a bigger shed was obviously built more recently. It was corrugated iron with a tall peaked roof. Both sheds would make good places to repair and refurbish their equipment, and rehearse new acts for the season ahead. Madame had chosen well.
The drive gave way to a broad open area, cleared of trees, with rough grass cut short. Ron manoeuvred their truck to park near a new Besser-brick building. As he stepped down from the cab, Finn nodded. Trust his father to find them a space as close to the shower block as he could. The bunk wagon that Finn shared with the Mancini brothers was the next to pull up, with the truck carrying the Mancinis’ equipment just behind. Only the three of them for now, but there were more coming and this paddock would soon fill with all manner of trucks and caravans and campers.
A car had followed them from town, and it pulled up close to the house. Two familiar figures emerged.
‘Welcome.’ Simon Coates shook hands with Ron. ‘Good to have you here.’
‘Great to be here. The place looks good.’
‘Thanks. We’ve got plenty of room and most of the facilities we need for your stay.’
Finn looked around him, eager to go exploring. His bunkmates Dino and Paolo Mancini appeared from their vehicle. ‘Is it all right if we take a look around?’
‘Of course—’
‘Not so fast, boy.’ Ron dropped a hand on Finn’s shoulder. Finn flinched, but he knew nothing bad would happen while Simon and Madame were there. ‘We just got here. There’ll be plenty of time for exploring. First you need to set up the van. Get the power on. I’ll need you to sort things out as everyone else arrives and get them settled. We’ll be here for a while. Everything else can wait.’
‘Yes, Dad.’
Finn exchanged a look with Dino. Careful to avoid Ron’s gaze, Dino rolled his eyes.
Lucienne placed her hand on Ron’s arm. ‘Come up to the house; we have much to discuss.’
‘Yes, Madame.’
‘Come on. Let’s get to work.’ Dino cuffed Finn gently on the shoulder and Finn punched back. The two wrestled briefly before breaking apart and embarking on the familiar routine of preparing the circus camp.
‘Please, Miss Walker. Can’t you ask?’
A dozen pairs of eyes were turned pleadingly in her direction.
‘Jenny, we can’t just ask them to put on a free show for the school.’
‘But they might want to. You don’t know that until you ask them. My uncle says there’s a whole lot of them there now. He says they’re resting between tours.’
‘My dad says the old lady is dying.’
‘Billy Grady, that’s a terrible thing to say. Don’t go around spreading idle gossip. Any of you.’
‘If you asked them to come here and we could meet them, then we wouldn’t have to gossip any more.’
Meg bit back a smile. That Jenny Harden was a smart one. She was also persistent. A lot like her great-aunt really. Since Sunday, quite a few vans and trucks and mobile homes had moved onto the circus property. There must be two dozen people out there now. Maybe even more. A few of them had been seen in town, visiting the shop or hardware store. According to the grapevine, they didn’t spend much time at the pub, preferring to socialise within their own group. Since coming to Nyringa, Meg had learned that small towns were hotbeds of gossip. It wasn’t ill-intended, but when strangers were rare, it didn’t take much to set tongues wagging. If she was being totally honest, Meg would admit she was just as curious as Jenny or anyone else about them.
There were times she wondered what the town said about her. Had they noticed how her arms were always covered by the long-sleeved tops she wore even though it was warm? Had they noticed that she never left the house at night? Or that she jumped every time she heard footsteps approaching from behind? Did they wonder what a young woman like her was doing here, in a small bush town?
Hiding. That’s what she was doing.
‘Are there kids at the circus, Miss Walker?’ Billy Grady was not one to give up easily either. ‘Will they be coming to school?’
‘Please! Think about all the stuff we’d learn.’
‘All right. Enough, Jenny. Billy. Everyone. Back to work.’
With a few grumbles, the students returned to their books. Meg settled herself at her desk to mark some essays, but her mind was elsewhere. Jenny was right when she said that inviting the circus performers to come and talk to the kids and maybe even do a bit of a show would be fun. And yes, a small circus per
formance could be a great teaching tool. She could attach anything from drawing sessions for the little ones to lessons on history, even law, for the older kids. And Billy’s question about school-aged kids with the troupe was also valid, although Meg suspected any kids that travelled would be home schooled.
Yes. It was a very good idea. But to organise a visit, Meg would have to drive out to the farm and face all those strangers—all those strange men—alone and she just wasn’t ready to do that yet. So far Nyringa had been good for her. She was more relaxed than she had been since that day, but she still had a long way to go. When the therapist had said it would take time, she hadn’t imagined it would take this much time. She just couldn’t shake the fear and she certainly wasn’t ready to approach a group of strangers and ask for something. Not yet. But, as a compromise, Meg decided that if she got the chance, she would talk to one of the circus people in town. Maybe at the shop or the bakery. If she was on her own ground, perhaps with people she knew nearby, she would be all right.
She could do that. There was no hurry. Just whenever the opportunity arose.
After the class ended, Jenny lingered.
‘Is there something you want, Jenny?’
‘My mum said to ask you if you would like to come round our place for dinner on Friday night.’
‘That’s—that’s very kind.’ Meg spoke slowly, her mind racing as she looked for excuses.
‘But I’m sure you don’t really want me to go.’
‘Yeah. It’s okay. Our other teacher used to eat with the families a lot. I mean, there’s not much else to do around here, except go down the pub.’
‘That’s kind, Jenny. Please thank your mother for me, but for now, I’m still trying to get to know all you students and the town generally, so it’s probably best if I don’t.’ She could hear the tension in her voice, but Jenny didn’t seem to notice.
‘Sure. Maybe later.’
‘Yes. Maybe later.’
Meg held herself upright, a smile fixed on her face, until Jenny had left the room, then she sank into her chair. She forced herself to take several long slow breaths, until she felt more calm. One day, a casual invitation to dinner or the idea of a night out or a drink at the pub wouldn’t do this to her. One day. At least she hoped. Until then, she breathed a sigh of relief every night as the lock on the front door of her cottage clicked into place behind her.
She gathered herself and prepared to end her day. She would forget all about dinners and focus on how she could safely ask about a circus visit.
These past few days, she’d taken to running earlier in order to avoid the man she’d met on that first week here. The tall man with the arresting eyes. Simon Coates. But the following morning, after a restless night, Jenny slept a little later than usual, and set out for her morning run late. She tied the laces of her trainers, stood up and stretched. She began as always by running on the spot, her arms going from a gentle swing to a more powerful pump action as she moved her feet faster. When she was nicely warmed up, she started moving forward without breaking stride or rhythm. She crossed the school ground quickly, heading for the oval. She was in luck. The oval was deserted, just as she’d hoped. Once inside the gate, she began to stretch out to a comfortable ground-covering stride, as she’d been taught.
She had never told her therapist how much she needed to run. It made her feel more in control. She felt as if it gave her power. It didn’t, but she could pretend at least that she was fast enough and fit enough now to run away from danger. To run away from an attacker. She wouldn’t get caught next time.
Next time … Next time … The pounding of her feet on the hard soil seemed to beat the words into her brain. She ran a little faster.
As she turned the corner at the far end of the oval, she saw a figure approaching the gate. It was him. Her steps faltered and she staggered before forcing her body back into its rhythm. It was fine. Nothing was going to happen. Not here, in an open space in broad daylight.
It was daylight last time.
She kept running. The figure by the gate was doing a few stretches and running on the spot. He was waiting for her. And she was running directly to him.
He is waiting for you, not chasing you. You are in control.
She kept going, focusing on the words her therapist had taught her. Control. It was all about control.
She slowed down as she approached the gate. He was standing to one side, not blocking her exit. She could just acknowledge his presence with a nod and get through that gate and away.
‘Hi, Meg.’ He lifted a hand in greeting.
‘Hi.’ She forced herself to slow to a walk. It was the perfect opportunity to ask about the school visit. She’d told herself she could and would do this, and the therapist had taught her to be honest with herself and to seriously attempt the goals she had set.
‘I wanted—well, the kids wanted me to ask you something.’
‘Sure.’
‘They were wondering—and feel free to say no, I don’t want to pressure you—but they were wondering if a couple of the performers might come to the school and talk about circus life. Maybe do a few tricks or something. Apparently they’ve never had a circus here before.’
‘Never had a circus. That’s awful.’ He was smiling as he said it. ‘They have been deprived of something every kid should experience.’
‘That’s what they say too.’
‘I’m sure we can work something out. Most of the troupe will be here until Christmas. They use this time to repair equipment and plan next year’s shows. It also counts as a holiday, but let me talk to some of them and see what they say.’
‘I wouldn’t ask them to disturb their holiday.’
‘When I say holiday, I mean the circus version of a holiday, which is not really a holiday at all. And doing a small show for kids is always fun. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to help.’
‘That would be great. Thank you.’
‘No problem. Are you up for another lap?’
A part of her wanted to say yes, but she’d already pushed her boundaries enough for one day. Not her physical boundaries, she could easily do another lap. But her emotions … that was different. ‘No, I’m done. I have to get ready for school now. But enjoy your run.’
‘Thanks. I will.’
He set off and she watched him for a few seconds, once again noticing the slight imbalance in his stride.
She felt very pleased with herself as she walked to her cottage, and not just because she’d have an answer for Jenny when school started.
CHAPTER
11
‘There must be a law against it.’ Alice folded her arms firmly. ‘Laws about keeping wild animals. They must need a licence or something. Who knows what could happen if circus animals escaped into the town. Elephants and the like. People could be hurt. Killed.’
‘There are no wild animals,’ Peter said. ‘I think maybe a few horses, but there are no regulations about that. That place is nearly eighty hectares. She can have all the horses she wants out there.’
‘But what about all those people? The caravans and such. It’s like a campsite. The council must have rules about that.’
‘Yes, there are rules, Aunt Alice. I checked them out, just in case there was something we could use. But again, with the size of the property, she’s free to do pretty much whatever she wants.’
‘It’s just not right. The town should be able to stop them. We could call a town meeting.’
Peter frowned. ‘We could. But I think a lot of people don’t see the problem. The circus is bringing in money. Shopping locally. Hiring local tradesmen. What with the drought and everything, the town needs the money. Everyone else is happy to have them here.’
‘They might be happy now. But it won’t last long. Think about the vulnerable children.’
Peter’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You’re not suggesting—’
‘No. Of course not. I’m thinking of your daughter Jenny and her friends. Goodness knows
what sort of influence these carnie people will be on them. Those girls are too innocent to understand that it’s not all sequins and glamour.’
Peter frowned again and Alice could see she was making an impact.
‘I just don’t like the idea of all these people passing through town. We don’t know what sort of people they are. They could be criminals! Travelling around like that with no home. I read somewhere that a lot of circus people are running away from something. Maybe the police.’
‘And there will be others,’ Peter added. ‘I heard them talking about inviting other travelling performers to stay with them.’
‘You see? It’ll change our town forever. We have to fight it. Or we risk …’ Her voice trailed off but her inner voice knew exactly what was at risk. A broken heart takes a long time to heal. A wrong choice stays with you your whole life. And cowardice is something you never forgive—not in yourself.
‘Let me talk to Barbara. She could talk to her friends at the CWA, and Kate’s mother. Make sure they’re aware of what’s happening.’
‘Good.’ Alice wasn’t entirely sure that Barbara would be very useful, but at least Peter was trying to do the right thing. He was a newcomer. He’d only been in Nyringa about sixteen or seventeen years, but she was beginning to like him better now.
As Alice left Peter’s office, she saw Jenny and a group of others gathered outside the bakery. Eating more of those fancy French cakes, Alice supposed. They weren’t bad, of course, if you liked that sort of thing, but nothing was better than a well-made lamington.
Alice set off in their direction. As she drew near, she could see one of the youngest of her brood, Davey, a six-year-old great-nephew or some such, jumping up and down, clapping his hands. A moment later she saw why. In the middle of the group someone was juggling several brightly coloured balls that she quickly realised were oranges. Just as she joined them, the juggler caught all the oranges and, with a spin and a flourish, held out one to Davey. The child giggled and took it, and immediately tossed it into the air. The juggler snatched the fruit from midair and started juggling again with the four—or was it five?—other oranges in his hands. He saw Alice, and one by one caught the orange balls and dropped them into a bag, which he handed to Davey’s older sister, who was standing next to her little brother, her eyes shining with admiration.
