Emerald Star (Hetty Feather)

by Jacqueline Wilson

  ‘Oh yes I could! I know exactly what it feels like – and I know I can cope very well,’ I said. ‘I have learned a sizeable amount by being Emerald the Amazing Pocket-Sized Mermaid in a seaside carnival show. Oh, could I be a mermaid here? Perhaps I could be part of the sea-lion act?’

  Madame Adeline burst out laughing, but I was serious – until she took me to the tank where the sea lions were kept. They were alarming creatures close up, great blubbery beasts with fierce whiskers, swimming in murky grey water that smelled very bad.

  Madame Adeline introduced me to Neptune, King of the sea lions. He was rather grey and blubbery himself, with his own full set of whiskers.

  ‘I think little Hetty hankers to be part of your act,’ said Madame Adeline.

  ‘Does she now? Well, it’s hard work, very hard work, training these beasts. If you don’t put them through their paces regular, they forget all their tricks, and there’s times they go sulking on you out of sheer cussedness. They don’t take to just anyone, you know, even if you feed them right. Here, girlie, this is how you do it to make ’em willing to leap right up.’ He reached for a bucket brimming with dead fish, eyes all popping and mouths agape. I swallowed hard, not sure I could ever thrust my hand into that bucket now. I had developed a real phobia of fish since living in Monksby.

  Then I gasped as Neptune ran up the steps to the top of the tank, leaned out over the water, opened his mouth wide, and put the fish between his own lips!

  The sea lions all started barking, swam rapidly towards him and then leaped up with one accord to snatch their supper.

  ‘See! That’s the way to do it,’ said Neptune, grinning. ‘Want to give it a try?’

  ‘No thank you, Mr Neptune. I’m not sure I’ve got the stomach for it after all,’ I said weakly.

  I begged Madame Adeline to show me round the animal cages, but the lions all roared at me, their golden eyes narrowing as they contemplated a tempting snack of girl-meat. The bears looked less savage, poor tethered creatures, and for a few moments I saw myself as Goldilocks while my three bears lumbered about me. However, Bruno, their trainer, snarled contemptuously at me, looking as if he’d happily use his cruel whip on me as well as his unfortunate animals.

  I was charmed by the monkeys. When I talked to them through the bars of their cage, they stuck their little hands out, trying to take hold of me, and chattered excitedly.

  ‘Oh look, Madame Adeline, the monkeys like me!’

  ‘They’re just hoping you’re going to feed them, dear,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, you can give them a bite to eat if you want,’ said Marvel, the monkey man, smiling at me.

  ‘What do they like to eat?’ I asked, a little nervously.

  ‘I give them a little handful of fruit and nuts just now. I don’t want them too full or they won’t perform proper,’ said Marvel, chopping oranges and apples into several dishes.

  ‘Oh, monkey food is delicious – and they’re so sweet,’ I said.

  Marvel unlocked their cage door. ‘In you go, then, missy,’ he said, giving me the bowls.

  ‘Careful, Hetty,’ said Madame Adeline. She looked at Marvel anxiously. ‘They won’t bite her, will they?’

  ‘They’re not carnivores. They might just give her a little nibble, but she’ll come to no harm,’ he said.

  They swarmed around me eagerly as I crawled into the cage. I hoped they’d sit down neatly in a row and take it in turns to eat, but they scrabbled here and there and fought each other for titbits and mistook me for a tree and climbed all over me. I wasn’t sure if I liked all these little paws clinging here and there to me.

  I squealed a little when the baby monkey squirmed out of my arms and scrabbled up my body, stepping on my nose, and then squatted right on the top of my head. He seemingly mistook me for a privy while I shrieked my head off!

  Madame Adeline was very kind (though she laughed a little) and let me wash my hair in her wagon. She rubbed it dry with a towel and then gently brushed it for a hundred strokes to make it gleam. I lay back against her knees, feeling such a deep sense of peace, wishing I could stay there for ever. The only other person who had ever treated me so tenderly was Mama, and it made me miss her terribly. I cried a little and told Madame Adeline some of the very sad things that happened last summer. She bent forward and put her arms around me and held me close. I knew she could never replace Mama – but I also knew she was incredibly dear to me. I had longed to live with her when I was five and when I was ten. I couldn’t bear to wait another five years to see her again.

  ‘Could I join the circus and live with you, Madame Adeline?’ I whispered. ‘I know you keep telling me it’s a hard life, but I don’t mind at all, just so long as I’m with you.’

  ‘You have a proper home now, Hetty, and your brother clearly thinks the world of you,’ she said.

  ‘I know, and I love dear Jem – but not in quite the way he wants. I love Mother too, but she’s far happier with Gideon. He’s clearly her favourite. I’m fond of Gideon too, for all he’s so strange, and I’m very attached to my friend Janet, but I don’t feel I belong with them. My days are so . . . restricted. I cook the same meals, wash the same sheets, see the same folk, even talk the very same talk, over and over again. I can’t stay because I know I’m starting to make Jem unhappy – and I’m unhappy too.’

  ‘You might be making yourself unhappier still if you run away,’ said Madame Adeline.

  ‘But at least I will be experiencing new things, living an exciting life, going to a new village every week. Oh, Madame Adeline, please don’t be so discouraging! Don’t you want me to join the circus? Please be truthful!’

  ‘Of course I want you to travel with me. I’ve met thousands of eager girls in my time but you’re the only one I’ve wanted to be with. You seem like a daughter to me already, Hetty. But I want to do what’s best for you.’

  ‘Then that’s easy!’

  ‘You’re not necessarily the best judge of that. Besides, as you rightly perceive, you would have to earn your keep or Tanglefield won’t let you stay.’

  ‘I’ll find a way! I certainly can’t be a monkey trainer – or work with the sea lions. I’m no good at tumbling, and we both agree I’ll never make a bareback rider, but there must be something I can do. If I find it – and if Mr Tanglefield says yes – may I live with you in your wagon?’

  ‘These are very big ifs, Hetty, but yes, of course you can live with me. I can’t think of anything I’d like better.’

  I watched the circus performance that afternoon with beady eyes. I went home and strung the washing line low down between two trees, pulling it taut, and then balanced along it, clutching Mother’s old broom handle as a balancing pole. I tried to dance along in my stockinged feet – and fell.

  Little Phil was playing nearby with a couple of grubby friends. They all screamed with laughter to see me sprawling. Then Phil infuriated me by jumping up onto the washing line and managing several steady steps before losing his balance. It was hopeless. Even a four-year-old had better circus skills than me.

  I’d hurt my ankle again too. If I carried on like this it would soon snap right off.

  Jem saw my long face when he came home from work. ‘Cheer up, Hetty,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t feel cheerful,’ I muttered.

  ‘Look, I tell you what, I’ll take you to your precious circus again tonight,’ said Jem.

  ‘I thought you disapproved of the circus and all its performers,’ I said sulkily.

  ‘I do, but I’d do anything to put a smile back on that little face,’ said Jem, cupping my chin and trying to make my lips curve with his other hand.

  ‘Oh stop it!’ I protested ungratefully, but I accepted his offer all the same.

  Mr Tanglefield stepped into the ring and announced the first act in his shrill tones.

  ‘Who is that chap – and what’s he saying?’ said Jem.

  ‘He’s Mr Tanglefield himself, and he’s a terrible ringmaster,’ I said. Then a thrill went th
rough me. I watched the entire show in a fever of excitement, concentrating so hard I barely answered when Jem spoke to me, though I clapped hard for little Diamond and Madame Adeline.

  ‘There, did you enjoy that?’ said Jem as all the performers paraded around the ring.

  ‘Oh, Jem, yes I did!’ I said, and I threw my arms around his neck. ‘You are a dear kind brother. I’m so sorry I’ve been so scowly and sharp. I don’t deserve your kindness.’ The thought of what I was planning to do practically overwhelmed me. ‘I am a very bad girl, Jem,’ I muttered. ‘Please know that I love you dearly and always will.’

  ‘I know that, Hetty, and I love you too,’ said Jem. He clasped my hand. I feared he was going to become too affectionate.

  ‘Let’s race each other home. I’m sure I could beat you now,’ I said.

  It was a ridiculous suggestion. Jem’s legs were far longer and stronger than mine, and I had a sore ankle too. Jem raced ahead, but then waited for me, and when he saw I was struggling, he picked me up and carried me all the way home piggyback style.

  I tried hard to make a fuss of him and show him I was grateful, but it was a huge relief when he started yawning and went to bed. I waited impatiently until I could hear snoring. Mother seemed fast asleep too, so I gathered material and sewing things as quickly as I could and then stole downstairs. It was hard seeing clearly by candlelight, but I was too impatient to wait till morning, and I needed to fashion my outfit in secret.

  I spread out my old print frock on the table as a guideline, and then cut out a newspaper pattern, narrow and snug across the shoulders and bust, but sweeping down as far as my knees at the back. It was a strange shape, but it was very clear in my head. Then I spread out my material, the fine red worsted left over from Jem’s waistcoat, pinned the pattern into place, and started cutting, opening and shutting my own mouth to the rasp of the scissors.

  I was wrapped in an old blanket, sitting cross-legged on the floor, when I heard footsteps on the stairs. My heart started beating fast, but it wasn’t Jem’s firm tread. It obviously wasn’t Mother.

  ‘Gideon?’ I whispered up into the darkness.

  I could just make him out halfway down the stairs in his nightgown. He wasn’t wearing his patch, and when I said his name he gasped and I saw him clutching his face, hiding his wound.

  ‘It’s all right, I can’t see you properly,’ I said, lying a little. I had seen his unmasked face several times already. If truth be told I had once crept into his bedroom at night and hovered over him to take a peek. I had been very shocked at first to see the empty eye socket and purple scars – but after that first look I started to get used to it, and now it didn’t seem quite so bad. After all, it was still my dear brother Gideon underneath.

  But he went running back to his room, groaning softly, and then returned with the patch in place. He said nothing, just stumbled outside to the privy. I listened, and thought I heard the sounds of vomiting. I had a glass of water from the jug ready for him when he came back.

  ‘Here, Gideon, drink this. Oh dear Lord, is it my cooking? Have I poisoned you?’ I asked anxiously.

  ‘No, no,’ said Gideon, sipping cautiously. ‘I – I had a nightmare about – about the incident. It often happens. And when it is very vivid I wake with my stomach churning and sometimes I am sick.’

  ‘Oh, poor boy,’ I said, and I went over and cradled his poor head. ‘But it’s all over now and you are safe at home with Mother and Jem, and they will look after you – and you indeed will look after them. You’ve made such a difference to Mother, Gideon. You’ve given her a life back.’

  ‘I know you’re just trying to be kind, Hetty, but thank you,’ he said, giving me a quick hug. Then he peered at the garment I was stitching. ‘Is that for Jem?’ he asked uncertainly.

  ‘No. He has his red waistcoat,’ I said.

  ‘Then . . . is it for me? It’s very kind of you, but I’m not sure . . . It’s such a bright red, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not for you, Gideon,’ I said quickly.

  ‘Then who is it for?’ he asked.

  I didn’t answer. I went on stitching steadily. Gideon came and sat down beside me. He tried to cross his legs too, but they were too long and unwieldy. He drew his knees up under his nightgown instead and clasped his hands around them. It was exactly the way he’d sat at night when he was a little boy. I suddenly felt so fond of him.

  ‘It’s not for you, is it, Hetty?’ he whispered.

  ‘It could be,’ I said.

  ‘But it’s a man’s jacket, isn’t it? Though you could wear it with style. Remember when you dressed up as a boy to come and see me in the boys’ wing at the hospital? That was an amazing day. The boys talked about you for years!’

  ‘It was such an awful place, that hospital, wasn’t it? Why were we all so cowed and frightened?’

  ‘Because we got whipped!’

  ‘Yes, but there weren’t enough matrons to whip us all. We should have rebelled. We should have pulled their silly caps over their eyes and locked them up in their own punishment attics. Imagine! Then we could have slid down the banisters and danced around the big table and played with all the new babies and eaten all the food in the cupboards,’ I said, laughing.

  ‘And then what?’ said Gideon.

  ‘And then we could have run out of those big doors and down the long path and right out the gate and been free,’ I said.

  Gideon thought for a few minutes. It was very quiet in the cottage. We could just hear the pluck-pluck-pluck of my needle as it darted in and out up my seam, and a soft steady snoring from upstairs – either Jem or Mother.

  It seemed very dark and still outside too, everyone in the village asleep in their beds. Then, from far away, I heard the strange strangled sound of an elephant trumpeting.

  Gideon heard it too. He crept a little nearer to me. ‘You’re going to run away with the circus, aren’t you, Hetty?’ he whispered, right in my ear.

  I was startled. I was used to thinking Gideon was as simple as a child. No one else seemed to suspect my plans, not even Jem.

  ‘I – I don’t know,’ I said. ‘They might not take me anyway. But if I do go, I promise I’ll come back to visit. You’ll be fine, Gideon.’

  ‘I know I will,’ he said. ‘But it will break Jem’s heart.’

  ‘No, no, it won’t. Jem will miss me a little, of course, but then he will realize that Janet is his true love. She loves him dearly, Gid, I know it,’ I said.

  ‘But he doesn’t love her, Hetty. He loves you,’ said Gideon relentlessly.

  ‘Oh don’t! You’ll make me feel so bad I won’t be able to go,’ I said.

  ‘You’ll go whatever anyone says,’ said Gideon. ‘You won’t be able to help it.’

  ‘Gideon, don’t tell Jem. Not yet.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I never tell,’ he said. Then he leaned closer and kissed my forehead. I was astonished, because Gideon and I never touched. ‘I shall miss you, Hetty,’ he whispered, and then he went back to bed.

  Now that Gideon knew, I could sew during the daytime in front of him – and in front of Mother too. She could say a little now, but not enough to question me. She seemed to have lost all her old assertiveness. She sat in her adapted chair placidly watching me sew. I stitched on, picturing each circus act in my mind, thinking how I would describe each one. I was in such a fever of excitement my hands shook, and it was difficult to stitch neatly.

  I finished an hour or so before the afternoon show began. I washed my face and hands, unpinned my hair and brushed it out until it shone, then put on Madame Adeline’s mended white tights beneath my dress. I folded up the new red garment and took Jem’s funeral stovepipe hat from the peg in his room. Then I marched out of the cottage towards the circus meadow.

  Diamond was in her fairy outfit, practising her tumbles in the grass, with Maybelle propped against a tree, watching.

  ‘Hey, Hetty, did you see me do three back-flips in a row?’ she called.

  ‘Yes,
bravo!’ I said, clapping her.

  ‘Have you come to play with me?’

  ‘I would love to play with you, Diamond, but I’m afraid I have other business just right now,’ I said, striding onwards.

  ‘Are you going calling on Madame Adeline? I shall come too!’ said Diamond.

  ‘I’m not intending to visit Madame Adeline either, not just now. I am here to see Mr Tanglefield,’ I said.

  ‘Oh!’ said Diamond, looking shocked. ‘Did he send for you, Hetty? He is very stern! If Mister is very cross with me he threatens to send me to Mr Tanglefield for a good whipping.’

  That halted me in my tracks. ‘Does he really whip you, Diamond?’ I asked.

  ‘No, but I’m always afeared he might,’ she said. ‘He has a very big whip, Hetty, and every time he cracks it in the ring it makes me shiver.’

  ‘Well, I’m not afraid of Mr Tanglefield or his whip,’ I lied. ‘Please can you point out his wagon, Diamond?’

  She pointed to the largest wagon in the semicircle, the grandly decorated crimson, canary and emerald vehicle.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, striding towards it hastily before I lost my resolve and ran for it.

  ‘I don’t think you had better disturb him right this minute. He’ll be getting ready for the show,’ Diamond wailed.

  ‘I can’t wait,’ I said, and I hurried towards the wagon.

  ‘Hey, girl, what are you doing here? Get out!’ called a circus hand, running towards me.

  ‘I have business with Mr Tanglefield,’ I said fiercely. ‘I’ll thank you to let me pass. I need to keep my appointment with him.’

  I ran up the steps before he could stop me and tapped smartly on the door. Someone grunted in a surly manner from within the wagon, telling me to go away.

  ‘I need to speak with you, Mr Tanglefield. It is extremely urgent,’ I said.

  Mr Tanglefield opened his door. He was in his shirt and breeches, his braces looping about his hips. I had caught him in the act of putting shoe blacking on his hair and moustache, so he had an oddly chequered appearance, half grey, half shiny black.