by Janet Gover
‘You really did run away and join the circus?’
‘Not quite. We talked our mother into letting us spend all our holidays with Grand-mère. Then one year, when we were sixteen, we just didn’t go back. Mum and Dad accepted it, because they knew that if they didn’t, we probably would run away.’
‘You were trapeze artists?’
‘Aerialists. Yes. Michelle was the talented one. I was just the muscle. I was there to support her, to lift her—to catch her. She was quite extraordinary. Just as Grand-mère was a fabulous equestrienne, so Michelle was a fabulous aerialist. Until history repeated itself. I lost my sister the same way Grand-mère lost our grandfather.’
He stopped talking and an incredible sadness passed over his face. Meg’s hands had long since ceased their movement. She reached over and laid her hand on his. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Meg realised this was the first time she had touched a man since the attack. For a heartbeat, she tensed to draw her hand away, but as she looked at Simon’s face, saw the way he smiled at her, she relaxed. He needed her touch, just as she needed to reach out to him. They sat like that for a few moments, then Meg pulled away before the comfort she was feeling could slide once more into fear.
‘So now I have to figure out my future,’ Simon said. ‘I take after my father enough to be the accountant for the circus. Or perhaps I should become a restorer of old carousels. Maybe that’s where my skills truly lie.’
Meg went along with his attempt to lift the mood. ‘Well, you’re certainly giving this one new life, that’s for sure. I love what you’ve done with the dragon.’
‘He was probably meant to be St George’s dragon,’ Simon said. ‘But I figured for this generation, he should be Smaug. That’s why he’s got extra treasure.’
They continued working until the light outside had faded.
‘I guess I should get back.’ Meg wiped her filthy hands. ‘I’ve got school tomorrow.’
Simon nodded. ‘I guess I should call it a day too. By the way, I hope it was all right to drop Jenny with you. She was adamant she didn’t want to go home. I wasn’t sure what else to do.’
‘It was fine. She’s a good kid. She was upset because—’ Meg hesitated, not sure if she was betraying a secret. But deep inside, she was a bit like Jenny. She didn’t want the circus to leave either, not if it took Simon away from her. Especially not now she had taken the first tentative steps towards having a normal relationship with a man. Not that she expected their friendship to develop into some passionate love story. For now, simple friendship with someone like Simon was more than she had ever hoped for.
‘She found out it’s time for the circus to move on?’
Meg nodded, turning to finish her tidying up so Simon wouldn’t see the sadness on her face. ‘She’s become fond of Finn. Young love is hard.’
From the doorway, a gentle voice answered her. ‘All love is hard.’
Meg turned to see Lucienne coming towards them. The older woman lowered herself gracefully onto one of the wooden boxes they were using as seats.
‘Love is hard, but it is the only thing in this world that is really worthwhile. I have loved and lost. My Jean-Luc and my beautiful granddaughter Michelle. Simon has known loss, as I think you have too, my dear. But never let fear stop you from living your life.’
Meg blinked away a tear. It sounded so easy, but she knew it wasn’t.
‘My husband always hoped we would live out our years in a place like this, a home for our circus family. He did not see it. But here it is. It is no longer the old Connelly place. I shall call it Three Rings.’
Simon looked surprised. ‘I thought you would call it something French.’
‘Non. That was the past. This is the future. The three rings of a cirque are a place of joy and wonder. This is the home we will have here. A home the circus will always return to, and a place where we can be happy. And you are always welcome here, Meg, my dear.’
The lump in Meg’s throat made it a little hard to speak. ‘Thank you.’
‘Bien! So our happiness will include everyone in the town. Simon, I have decided we will have a festive circus. And there will be a feast and les treize desserts. It will be très jolie.’
‘The thirteen desserts,’ Simon translated for Meg. ‘It’s a French Christmas tradition.’
‘It sounds fattening.’
‘Pah!’ Lucienne dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand. ‘It is time we celebrated our new life. And all the town will come.’
CHAPTER
22
The creek was breathless and quiet. Even the birds seemed to have deserted her. But Jenny waited. Kate wouldn’t fail her. She’d said in her text that it might take her a while to get there, so Jenny was content to wait. And to think. She had a lot to think about.
Finn was leaving. Much as she’d tried to ignore it, deep down she’d always known that Aunt Alice was right. And she’d been right about a broken heart too. How had Aunt Alice known it would hurt so much?
A tear slid down Jenny’s face and dropped onto her hand. She sniffed and wiped it away. She should be happy. Word was spreading about the Christmas show, and the whole town was going. She and Finn had talked and made plans. They would perform their motorcycle act. Together, in front of everyone. She should be excited, but the secret performance had become a symbol of the loss that would soon follow it.
What was she going to do?
She heard footsteps behind her. At last. She needed Kate right now. She needed to hug her best friend and tell her everything. She spun around.
‘Oh, Billy.’
‘You might at least try to sound like you’re pleased to see me.’ He scowled as he dropped onto the log beside her.
‘What are you doing here?’
He shrugged. ‘Just hanging out.’
She turned away.
‘You’re thinking about that circus guy, aren’t you? With his motorbike and everything? What’s so special about him? He’s just gonna dump you and leave.’
Jenny’s hands clenched so tightly her nails bit into her palms. It hurt, but it was an easier pain than the one in her chest. She just wanted Billy to leave her alone.
He frowned as he studied her face. ‘Shit. You’re thinking of going with him, aren’t you?’
‘No!’ The reply was instinctive but not entirely true. The thought had crossed her mind. More than once.
‘Yes, you are. Don’t be so stupid. He doesn’t want you.’
He does! Her heart shouted the words, but she kept her mouth closed.
‘Anyway, they’ll just send the cops to bring you back. Running away to join the circus? Really?’
‘Stop it.’ She forced her voice to stay calm. ‘Of course I’m not going to go with him. I’m not an idiot.’
Billy studied her face carefully, then smiled. ‘Of course not. Sorry. It’s just. Well, I like you and—’
‘It’s all right.’ She forced herself to smile back. She had to be careful. If Billy got angry, he might say something to his parents. Or to hers. She might not be running away, but she and Finn did have one important secret. If anyone found out about the act, they’d both be in trouble.
‘Hey, Billy, what are you doing here?’ Kate appeared at the top of the creek bank.
‘Just hanging.’
‘Well, go hang somewhere else. Jen and I want to talk.’
‘What about? Girl stuff?’
‘You’ll never know. Now bugger off.’
His scowl deepening, Billy got to his feet and slouched away. Kate dropped onto the log beside Jenny.
‘You don’t like him much, do you?’ Jenny asked.
‘No. Not really. I don’t trust him either. I don’t see why you let him hang around.’
Jenny shrugged. At this moment, she didn’t know either. Nor did she care. But she had learned one thing from his visit. She couldn’t tell anyone anything. Not even Kate.
‘So, what’s up? Have you heard from Finn?’
J
enny shook her head, her mind racing. Kate was her best friend and had been for as long as she could remember. She trusted her completely. She still wasn’t going to tell her about the act. She wanted that to be a surprise. And she wasn’t going to tell her about the other idea that had started to sneak into her head. It was a stupid idea. It would never work. She wouldn’t do it. Because—well, she just wouldn’t. But it would be nice to know if Finn would want her to.
They started to erect the big top on Monday morning. Lucienne stood on the sidelines; although she owned the circus, this was not her job. No-one had seen the big top raised more often than she. She could remember the time the circus used elephants, not engines, to work the pulleys that slowly lifted the tent’s key poles into place. She could remember when the sounds of men swinging big hammers had not yet been replaced by the sound of a jackhammer. She remembered the roustabouts singing as they hammered home the wooden pegs.
Lucienne watched Finn drive past at the controls of a forklift, a metal frame balanced on the front. Further away, another troupe member was using the larger forklift to unload metal beams and the key poles from the back of a truck. Her team was practised at this. They’d done it every few days at more locations than she could count. They didn’t need to be told what to do. They knew. And while someone needed to see the big picture, she wasn’t sure Ron needed to be yelling at people quite as much as he was. He knew the practicalities of his job, that was clear. But to Lucienne, there was more to being a ringmaster than knowing how to put up the tent or announce an act. The ringmaster was the beating heart of any performance, and she wasn’t sure that Ron’s heart was the one she wanted for her cirque. She could feel a tension in the air that wasn’t right.
This kind of tension hovered on the brink of something else … maybe fear or anger. Although she had stayed with le cirque for some months after the accident, she had actually been absent, lost in her grief. Simon too had been absent because of his injury. A cirque was a reflection of its leader, and she didn’t like what she was seeing today. This would need to be fixed before the troupe left on tour. But first, there was Christmas and a festival to prepare for.
By mid afternoon they were unrolling the huge red and white striped big top. Simon and Ron would inspect every part of the tent, and every nut and bolt of the frame for wear and tear. They would replace what needed replacing before the season started. Safety was all. But even that was sometimes not enough.
Lucienne left them to it and made her way to the stables. Coco was standing sleepily in her stall. She lifted her head and nickered as Lucienne approached.
‘Hello, Coco, mon colibri. My precious hummingbird.’ Lucienne took a brush and comb into the stall. As always, the mare nuzzled her hands, searching for a treat. And as always, Lucienne had one. She gave Coco a few small pieces of liquorice. ‘No, no, little hummingbird. Too many sweets are not good for you.’ The mare stopped her searching and relaxed as Lucienne began combing her long white mane. ‘So the circus will leave soon. And it will leave us behind. You and I. What shall we do with our days?’
Coco didn’t answer. Her head stretched lower and she sighed.
‘Yes, you will nap. We will both nap and grow old.’ Lucienne put the comb aside and began brushing the coat that was already sleek and shining. ‘Simon should go with them, but he will not leave me. So here we are, an old woman and a young man, one too old and one too broken to be part of a circus any more. This is not right.’
This was not the life she had ever imagined for herself, nor was it the life she would have chosen for Simon. She left the stables and stood watching her team working on the tent. The evening was closing in and soon they would stop for the night. On the road, the team worked all night to ensure the tent was up and ready for a performance the next day; the schedule was tight and there was seldom time to take a day off.
At the worksite, a spotlight powered on and a bright shaft of silver flashed across the red and white canvas lying on the ground. By some trick of the light, the fabric seemed to move like a wave—and Lucienne was back in Paris. She could see the sides of another big top ripple as the crowds poured through.
She could hear the music and the excited voices of the crowd. The smell of the animals in the menagerie might seem rank to some people, but it was part of her world, as was the muted roar of the big cats in their cages. She saw as if it was yesterday, the handsome young man seated in the royal box, his smile for her and her alone. But her heart would be given to a man from her own world; a man with dancing brown eyes and a deep, rich voice beyond his years, a voice that would mesmerise thousands of people as the roustabout became a clown who became a ringmaster, and her great love.
Lucienne remembered a small girl, falling again and again from a low practice trapeze into the safety of the big net. She remembered Jean-Luc talking to their young daughter in that lovely ringmaster’s voice, telling her about their heritage and the joy of the circus. Like her long lost youth, nothing was truly gone while the memories remained.
Lucienne’s mind leaped forward to another big top. Another crowd and a gasp of horror as a cable snapped and two bodies plummeted to the earth. Her heart recoiled. That memory brought nothing but pain.
Lucienne went to church more from habit than any great faith, although she did believe that Michelle was gone because that was what was supposed to happen. There was no blame to be laid. Not at her feet, and certainly not at Simon’s. If only she could get him to see that, maybe then he’d see where his future lay.
The spotlight above the tent went out, leaving Lucienne momentarily in darkness as her eyes tried to adjust. An idea seemed to come with the return of her vision.
Simon appeared at her side, his hand touching her arm carefully. ‘Grand-mère, is everything all right?’
How she loved that boy and the man he had become. ‘Yes, Simon. I have decided.’
‘Decided what?’
‘When we perform, it will be a special show. My last show. The last performance of l’écuyère Lucienne Chevalier.’
She waited for Simon to protest. To tell her she was too old. Or that Coco was. Or even that it was too dangerous at her age. Instead, a slow smile spread across Simon’s face.
‘Now that will be something to look forward to.’
‘Bien sûr. It will be a night to remember.’
CHAPTER
23
Alice was ready for a battle. She progressed down the street at what was more a march than a walk. Last time she’d been to the bakery, there had been no lamingtons, just those French things that Karen had taken to cooking. While a part of Alice might reluctantly concede that some of the pastries tasted good, nothing could replace a good lamington in her opinion. Nothing else would do with her afternoon cup of tea. Lamingtons she wanted and lamingtons she would have.
Then she reached the bakery window, and all thought of lamingtons vanished from her mind.
COME AND JOIN THE CIRCUS FOR A TRADITIONAL FESTIVE FEAST AND PERFORMANCE!
The words were written in dark felt-tipped pen across a colourful poster that was taped to the inside of the window. The poster had golden tinsel surrounding it but it was the image that held Alice’s attention: a circus big top, painted with red and white stripes. This was not quite the same poster that had lain for all these years in her dresser drawer next to the faded photo and bundle of letters, but it was close. Too close.
Join the circus for Christmas! The meaning of the poster slowly worked its way past her shock. Christmas? Not likely. Nyringa had its own Christmas traditions, mostly revolving around Alice and her family.
The door opened and Karen looked out. ‘Hello, Aunt Alice. I thought that was you. I have some lammies just made, and was saving some for you.’
Alice dismissed the baker with a wave of her hand. ‘What’s this all about?’ She tapped her fingers on the window.
‘Isn’t it fabulous? The circus people are doing a special Christmas performance. Just for all of us. In a few days.’
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Alice glanced around, as if expecting to see the big top rising from the town square. ‘Where? The park isn’t big enough. And they can’t use the school. That wouldn’t be right.’
‘No. It’ll be there. At Three Rings.’
‘Three Rings? What on earth are you talking about?’
Karen laughed. ‘The old Connelly place. Madam has called it Three Rings, like the circus. Isn’t that nice?’
That wasn’t the word Alice would have used. Bill and Mavis Connelly, the former owners of the property, had been friends of hers once, before they retired to the coast and rented the place to a succession of hobby farmers from the city. Of course, they hadn’t been back to Nyringa for years, but last year, when news came of their deaths, she’d been sad. Changing the name of the property seemed disrespectful. And anyway, Alice didn’t like change.
‘They’re going to have a circus at the old Connelly place?’ Alice wanted to make certain she hadn’t misheard.
‘Yes. There’ll be a feast too. A traditional French Christmas feast. I’m helping Madam prepare it. It’s going to be wonderful. And the whole town is invited. For free. It’s going to be such fun.’
Lamingtons forgotten, Alice walked home, her mind racing. There was probably no way she could stop this. That woman owned the property, so she could do what she liked on it. But why would they put on a free show? In her experience, those sorts of people didn’t do anything unless there was something in it for them. If not money, then what?
Movement by the war memorial caught her eye. She saw Jenny there with a couple of friends. Pleased that for once she wasn’t with that dreadful boy from the circus, Alice changed direction. She didn’t like Jenny’s association with those circus people, but it probably meant she knew most about what was going on.
‘What’s this I hear about a circus at the old Connelly place?’
Jenny looked up at her and frowned. Then her face started to crumple. ‘On Christmas Eve. It’s like a dress rehearsal. Because—’ Jenny caught her breath to hold back a sob, ‘—because after that, they’re leaving. The circus is going on the road.’
