CHAPTER 8
Mr Tommo looked across at his wife. The circus had closed for the night; they had finished supper and were sitting in their caravan enjoying a coffee.
He leaned back in his chair. ‘Are you going to tell me?’ he asked.
‘Tell you? Tell you what?’
‘What it was all about? he replied. ‘Today. With the girls,’
‘What do you mean, with the girls?’
‘Oh Beth, let us not pretend! About telling them how wonderful they were before you barely had chance to set eyes on them. Sitting them down, serving them juice and buns within minutes of you arriving; running out to the carts at every excuse to see if they needed anything; telling them they could work for us tomorrow without a word to me. And that bag of goodies you gave them to take home - enough for a dozen birthday parties, the size of it. Oh, I know how kind you are with all the young people who come to work at the Circus, always have been and I love you for it, but Beth, I have never seen you the way you were today.’
‘Did you not notice? Did you not see?’
‘See! See what?’
Mrs Tommo stood from her chair and walked to the window, stayed with her back to him. ‘The girl,’ she said, still not turning. ‘The older one, the one called Pearl. Could you not see it?’
Mr Tommo pushed himself from the table and walked to stand behind her. ‘Yes, of course I did,’ he said. ‘How could I not! I suppose it’s what they call a spitting imagine, but whatever they choose to call it, I must admit I was completely stunned, couldn’t take my eyes off her.’ He put his arms around her. ‘But we agreed to let it go. It’s been five years, and I thought we’d agreed.’
She turned in his arms. ‘Yes we did, but this is different. I mean it, Zach, and I am not trying to bring her back and I’m definitely not wallowing in the past as you must think. I’m fine, really I am. It’s just that … well, you have been saying for ages that we should be thinking of employing someone on a permanent basis, at least while we are on tour, and I think this girl Pearl would be ideal. Truth is I would like you to spend some more time with her, see what you think. All right, so perhaps the way she looks is having an influence on me – bound to be and I would be lying to say it isn’t - but I’d like you to give it some thought, spend a little time with her. I‘ve watched her, Zach, and she’s a real good worker, never seen better, catches on fast and is a natural with customers. Don’t ask me what it is, but watch people when she’s serving them, try counting the number of smiles. It’s a gift, Zach, and it must be in the family, her sister has it too.’
‘Yes, all right, I promise, but please, Beth, don’t start counting chickens. First off, she might not even want to consider it - the travelling, leaving her family, having to spend months away from home. And her parents – chances are they need her on the farm.
‘Yes, I know, I know, but all I’m asking is for you to think about it. Spend a little of tomorrow with her.’
They were silent a while, then Mrs Tommo said: ‘This morning wasn’t the first time, Zach. Yesterday. I saw her yesterday and couldn’t believe the likeness, but when I walked in the Rumble Tum and saw her standing there . . . well it was if it was some sort of destiny, something that just had to be.’
‘Yesterday! I don’t understand.’
‘When I went for my walk.
Zach laughed out loud, pushed her towards a chair. ‘OK, Mrs Tommo,’ he said. ‘So how about you and I sit down while you tell me about it?’
She was more than eager, began right away: ‘As I said, it was yesterday, late morning, soon after we had finished setting up here and, as you know, I decided to go for a walk. Seems neither one of us has been in a mood for walking lately, don’t know why, but this last one was quite a journey and I felt a stretch of legs would do me good. I did ask if you would like to come, remember, but you were busy, said to enjoy my walk.’
‘I suppose I walked further than I meant to,’ she continued. ‘They’ve had a real bad harvest here this year and the valleys are dry as tinder, everywhere parched brown, but this is still a beautiful country and maybe I got carried away. Anyway, after a while, I stopped to look around myself, take in the view, the snow-capped mountains in the distance, and I was leaning on a wall and there was a family working in a nearby field. I was in no hurry - glad of the rest I suppose - and I stayed and watched until they came close. Then, all at once, they seemed to notice me and they waved, and I waved back. It was then that I saw her.
‘Zach, I thought I was dreaming one of my dreams. It was her! Not just like her. It was her! Everything about her: her face, the shape of her nose, the way she held her head, the flick of hair – oh everything! – her walk, her smile. In a while, the father came over and talked to me and she joined him. The others came too. They were so nice, eager to chat, but I have no idea what we talked about – all I know is that I couldn’t stop looking at her. Could not believe it!
‘I remember thinking you were away a while.’ Zach said.
‘Yes, I suppose I was. Actually after I left them, I sat for a while on a nearby bench - an old log really – my mind in a daze of trying to understand how they could be so alike, Tessa and the girl in the field, but they were not sad thoughts, Zach, they were happy thoughts. Don’t ask me to explain, but somehow seeing someone who looked exactly like our daughter filled me with a kind of happiness I thought I’d forgotten and I suppose I wanted nothing more than to see her again. Not that I expected to – of course I didn’t, and how could I? – but I arrived this morning and there she was. Oh, Zach . I have had such a wonderful day. Wonderful! More than I can say’
They were silent a while. Zach said, ‘OK, I promise. I’ll make sure I spend some time with her tomorrow, see what I think.’ He gave a grin. ‘Go a bit easier on the goody bags, though, Bess. The pantry box is near empty as it is. And by the way, did you see anything of the Princess today,’ he added, anxious to change the subject.
‘Yes, I did. She stopped at both stalls and had a word with the girls – can’t tell you how delighted they were and I have to say the Princess is not at all like I expected. From all I’ve ever been told, she is supposed to be a bit of a madam, spoiled and impossible to please, but she couldn’t have been nicer – not today anyway: talked to everyone, wanted to know all about them, where they lived, what they did. A really nice young girl, seemed to me, completely charming. A real beauty too. Did you not see her?’
‘A glimpse, that’s all. Saw the Prince though. Saw him arrive this morning.’
‘How did he seem?’
‘Fine, just fine. Best I’ve seen him look in years. Perhaps, at long last, he’s moving on from the accident.’
‘An avalanche, from what I remember reading. Skiing with friends.’
‘Yes, out here on the local mountains, the Madre Slopes. The Prince was due to join them, was actually on his way when it happened. A terrible time it was, for him, for everyone, for this country. Terrible. They loved Janine, the people here in Mandredela, worshipped her and everything about her. Still do. I don’t know, maybe it was because she loved them as much as they loved her – oh, not the usual, sort of official, so-nice-to-meet-you kind of love we have come to expect from royalty, but a kneel-down-to-children-and-old-folk kind of love. Hugged people, laughed with them, cried with them; wanted things for them. Maybe because she was born a commoner, who’s to say?’
‘So, what was all that business about her betrothal locket? From all I remember, it caused quite a stir - headlines everywhere. Far as America.’
‘Yes it did. Not that the rest of the world ever had the first idea what the fuss was about. Thought they did, but how could they without actually living here? How could they know how important the locket is here in Mandredela, the part it plays in the lives of its people? No idea.’
‘What happened?’
Mr Tommo looked at his watch. ‘It’s a long story, time for bed I think.’
‘Please, Zach.’
‘Oh, all right, sit back. I
t’s quite a story.’ He pulled his chair towards her. ‘It all started about twelve or thirteen years ago, the story of Prince Xavier and Janine. They met on the Slopes. Where else? Mad on skiing the pair of them: teenagers near enough the same age and more than crazy about each other from the very start. Out on the Pistes when they met and hence the jokes about them falling for each other - which is exactly what they did. Anyway, Janine came from a family rich as rich, an only child, and though her father had a high-sounding Mandredelan title and cash enough to buy the crown jewels, the King and Queen had no intention of allowing their precious son and heir to marry the girl he loved. Not because she was a commoner – at least that’s what the Palace tried to make everyone believe – but because a union with Princess Beatrice of Saracovia was on the cards, had been from the day she was born and no one can deny how important an alliance between their two countries would have been. A real advantage any way you looked at it and far too important to let a small matter of love or the stubbornness of a prince interfere. But, love and the Prince did interfere, paid no attention to all the pressures - came out fighting from the word go: said he would marry Janine, and no other.’
‘And then?
‘Well, no telling how many times the Prince went through the business of asking his parents for his betrothal locket knowing full well they would point blank say no. Would refuse to bend. But the people of Mandredela were already in love with Janine, and the Prince knew it – boy, how he knew it!- and used every chance to make sure that all his battles with the King and Queen and the rest of the Palace crowd were fought out in the open and not behind the Palace walls. Made sure the people of Mandredela were there to witness every twist, every turn. Win? Of course, he won! Well, knowing the Mandredelan people and their love of romance how could he not? Ran a real smart campaign, did the Prince, blew the royal socks off the King and Queen, and the rest of the Palace crowd and no two ways!’
‘It wasn’t the only shock though, was it?’ Mrs Tommo was leaning back and smiling as she began to remember ‘After all that, did she not turn him down? Something about his locket?’
‘That she did.’ replied Mr Tommo. ‘Turned hin down flat! Not that I’d call it a shock - more like an earthquake!’
‘Great! So tell me about it; every detail if you please. First, though, tell me about this country and the business of its lockets. It’s all to do with tradition, that much I do I know, but on the face of it, the fuss they make seems so much of a nonsense. Hard to understand.’
Mr Tommo smiled. ‘Most traditions are I suppose, but as far as the Mandredelan locket is concerned, I think it true to say that the locket has not only played a significant part in the history of this country, but has helped in no small way to maintain a regard for family values which seems to be disappearing at an alarming rate in most other parts of the world. And fast! As to when the tradition began, I have to say I have no idea; lost in the mist of time I suppose, but from all I can see, its influence is strong as ever. And, it’s a simple enough tradition. I’m no expert but, best I know, it goes something like this:
‘When a boy is sixteen, he receives a locket from his parents, which he immediately hands back for them to keep until the time comes when he tells them he has met the girl he wishes to marry. Not that a boy of sixteen is likely to give a tinker’s cuss about a locket on his sixteenth birthday - probably as much as he can do to give the thing a glance. And who to blame him? Big, unattractive things is the only way I can describe them and certainly not the kind of thing I can see you in a hurry to wear. They are, though, finely engineered and have to be for they are designed to contain many compartments, which they call pages.’
‘Pages? To hold pictures of loved ones, that kind of thing, I suppose. Mementos perhaps?’
‘Exactly, as it is with all lockets, but the Madredelan boy’s locket will eventually – or so the parents hope – contain pictures not only of themselves, of their son and his wife, but a whole cart load of grandchildren. The more the merrier in this country. In other words, it‘s destined to become more a family album than a locket and that’s the reason they make them so big. Made with expectations, I suppose you could say. ’
‘Seems to me, knowing men, that it would be the wife who would end up looking after her husband’s locket, but I don’t see many women wearing them. Come to think, I can’t remember seeing a single one since we came here.’
‘No, you won’t. Not unless you happen to be at a family gathering, a birthday or some such and you are right about the wife taking charge of her husband’s locket. Actually, it becomes officially hers as soon as they marry. I’ve attended only one Mandredela wedding and that was some years ago, but I can still remember the priest blessing the locket, handing it to the bride and telling her to treasure it for the rest of her life. In other words, the locket was now hers, and hers to keep.’
‘What happens when she dies, who gets it then?’
‘It goes to her eldest daughter to keep as a family heirloom and, if you are ever invited into a Mandredealan house, rich or poor, the first thing you are likely to see is a display cabinet crammed to the brim with lockets. A sort of a family’s history in pictures,’
‘Sounds a rather nice thing. But what if the boy never marries?’
‘Don’t know, never thought of it. What I do know, however, is that I’m tired and off to bed.’
‘Oh no you don’t! Don’t you dare leave me dangling! Not until you tell me about Janine and how she turned the Prince down. About what happened!
‘Oh, all right! It won’t take long for it was in no way what you might call a drawn out affair: ‘The King and Queen had finally given in and had agreed that their son could marry Janine and the whole population of Mandredela were at once up to their necks in a guessing game of when the wedding would be. Over the moon they were and planning all kinds of celebrations and to heck with all thought of the cost. Make the world notice! After all, one day, they would have their beloved Janine as their queen.
‘As to the Prince. Well, let’s say he was having a rare old time with his pals. And why not! After all, he had at long last been given Royal permission to marry the girl he loved; the people of Mandredela were jumping cartwheels and all that remained for him to do was approach Janine’s father and formally ask him for his daughter’s hand in marriage. No trouble there: the Prince was a regular visitor at Janine’s home and knew it was just a matter of asking - great pals the Prince and Janine’s Dad - and so, when he recovered enough from his celebrations to remember the next part of the ritual, Prince Xavier made his way to Janine’s house, knocked at the door the required three times and, when her father appeared, gave a deep bow and humbly asked his permission to marry his daughter. Of course it hadn’t taken long for a crowd to gather and what a cheer there was when Janine’s father returned the bow, solemnly declared that he would deliver the locket to his daughter ‘forthwith.’ and to declare in a voice for all to hear, that the Prince could expect its return ‘with due consideration and dispatch’ He wasn’t wrong, for Janine had it back in the hands of the Prince within the hour. The only thing was the locket was empty. Stone, cold empty! Not a lock, not a hair, not a whisp!
He simply could not believe it!
‘No, I don’t suppose he can,’ was Janine’s reply to the barrage of stunned questioning that greeted her as she stepped out of her house the next morning. ‘My father and my mother agreed to our betrothal, the King and Queen agreed and so, it seems, did every other person in this country. But he didn’t ask me. Took it for granted. Took ME for granted! A big mistake. No way will I marry a man who thinks he can take me for granted.’
‘Absolutly superb! What a girl she was,’ Beth explained, with a clap. ‘No wonder everyone loved her Anyway, a happy ending, they married in the end.’
‘Ah yes, but not just like that! Took him the better part of a year before he finally managed to win her round. Made the Prince and her father have a good think about things, about attitudes. Made
everyone think about attitudes. But then, that was Janine.
‘I just love her.’
‘That’s what I told you - everyone loved her.
They sat quietly for a minute then Zach said: Well, I’m off. Bed calls.’
He reached the door. ‘Zach’
‘Yes?’
‘Don’t forget your promise. About tomorrow.’
Tiger Lilly and the Princess Page 8
