‘Come on,’ she reached for Olivia’s arm with a gloved hand, ‘we’re losing the light and we’ve still a little way to go yet.’
They passed by the horses tethered to the tram. The mares snorted, their breath hissing from their wide nostrils as a burst of mist in the icy air, their coats damp with sweat and snow as they shifted restlessly.
Olivia glanced across the street, watching in fascination as one of the lamplighters reached up with a long brass pole and lit the lamp, which burst into a soft warm glow in the fading light.
‘Where are we heading?’ she asked.
‘Down to the river,’ Scarlett wound her arm through Olivia’s as they walked side by side through the snow.
‘What in holy hell is that smell?’ Olivia wrinkled her nose, pressing a gloved hand to her mouth.
‘The Thames,’ Scarlett replied. ‘At this point it’s nothing more than open sewage. This isn’t actually that bad, you should be grateful it’s not summer. After the great stink…’
‘The great stink?’ Olivia repeated.
Scarlett smiled, a rare and genuine one.
‘Yes, the great stink, which is exactly what it sounds like, in 1858, an unseasonably hot summer and a river filled with raw sewage and slaughterhouse effluent.’
‘Ewww.’
‘After that, they decided they really needed to do something about it. Joseph Bazalgette has begun work on his sewage system and is already clearing the north embankment. The work won’t be finished for another twenty years or so, but once it’s done, they will have almost eradicated Cholera and Typhoid in the city.’
Olivia absently brushed an errant snowflake from her cheek and looked up again. The rapidly darkening sky was filling with swirls of delicate flakes which buffeted and danced on the approaching night air.
‘It’s snowing again,’ she mused to no one in particular.
Scarlett stopped abruptly and pointed, Olivia’s gaze followed curiously, her eyes widening. A short distance from the banks of the muddy river was a collection of enormous circular tents and sat at their center, like a crowning jewel, was an enormous conical tent. Although the tents themselves were a plain utilitarian canvas color, much to Olivia’s dismay as she had expected a big top with the standard wide red and white, vertical stripes, there were flags of bright primary colors snapping in the breeze from the tallest poles of the pitched roofs.
‘It doesn’t look how I thought it would,’ Olivia replied thoughtfully.
‘Wait till we get closer,’ Scarlett smiled.
They began walking once again, Olivia watching in fascination as they drew closer. The sky had darkened to almost black but there was still plenty of light. The gas lamps skirted the edge of the strange carnival, but strung throughout, and encircling each tent, were rows of oil lanterns. Each of the plain canvas tents were decorated with brightly colored strings of pennons which in turn were decorated with tiny golden symbols she couldn’t quite make out. The air was rich with chattering visitors and dense with an unfamiliar but mouth-watering scent.
‘What’s that smell?’ Olivia inhaled.
‘Roasted chestnuts,’ Scarlett turned her gaze on Olivia contemplatively. ‘Have you never had roasted chestnuts before?’
She shook her head.
Taking Olivia’s hand, Scarlett pulled her over to a rectangular cart with huge thin spoked wheels which would have looked more at home on a bicycle. The fixtures were brass, highly polished and well loved, with poles rising from each corner to support a small red and white canopy. Upon the cart itself were sizzling dark colored nuts which the vendor scooped into a paper bag and handed to Scarlett.
‘Farthing Miss,’ he handed the bag to Scarlett.
She paid him and handed the bag to Olivia as they moved away.
‘How much is a farthing?’ Olivia glanced up. ‘Sorry, I’m asking loads of questions, I know it’s annoying but it’s the historian in me. I just want to know everything.’
‘It’s okay,’ Scarlett shrugged, ‘a farthing is a quarter of a penny.’
‘Oh,’ Olivia rummaged in the bag and withdrew a warm mahogany colored nut, its hard shell scored and beginning to peel. She broke away the remaining shell and popped the nut into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. ‘It’s really sweet, like sweet potato… and spongey. I expected it to be harder, crunchier.’
‘You like it?’ Scarlett dipped her hand into the bag and retrieved her own treat.
Olivia nodded as she continued to chew, glancing around and taking in her surroundings. Bright, jaunty organ music filled the air as people milled around chattering excitedly.
‘Busy,’ Olivia remarked around a second mouthful.
‘It’ll get busier than this,’ Scarlett headed toward one of the slightly smaller tents. ‘Come on, this way. The shows haven’t started yet, best to try and catch Pearl.’
‘Pearl?’ Olivia’s gaze was drawn up to a large sign above the tent which proclaimed in a bold curly script.
‘Madam Pearl’s Traveling Aquarium and Cirque Mystéres …’
‘Traveling Aquarium?’ Olivia wondered as Scarlett led her around the back and ducked under one of the tent flaps.
‘Shush,’ Scarlett raised her finger to her lips, ‘we don’t want the stagehands to throw us out.’
They wandered along a canvas corridor with hay strewn, hardened wood slats beneath their feet keeping them from sinking into the boggy ground. It was then Olivia realized that each of the tents were in fact joined by these strange little canvas corridors, making the entire structure one big spider web fanning out from the main top.
‘Clever,’ Olivia muttered.
The corridor was lit at intervals by braziers staked into the ground, the naked flames covered by rounded, colored glass globes which gave the place an exciting, eerie kind of atmosphere.
As they reached the end of the corridor Scarlett lifted a heavy, deep red velvet curtain decorated with golden tassels and they stepped inside, finding themselves in a much larger, circular tent.
Gaudy gold-plated statues of a vaguely Greek or possibly Roman influence encircled the tent. Great swathes of fine diaphanous material hung from the tallest center pole on the ceiling and fanned out to the perimeter of the tent, in shades of sea foam green and deep azure blue, giving the entire roof the feeling of crashing waves. Two men stood beneath one of the edges, one on a ladder and one steadying it as they attempted to fix one of the sections which had come loose.
Another burly and silent man knelt down on the floor, his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, the thickly corded muscles of his forearms tensed as he re-laid several planks of damaged wood on the floor and covered them with straw.
To the left of the tent was a huge double entrance and directly in front of it, dead center of the tent, stood an elaborate tank filled with pebbles, seaweed and water. The sides of the tank were glass, allowing the audience to gaze in but the edges and trims were all a mismatched travesty of baroque and Greek revival carvings overlaid with gold leaf.
Being in the circus obviously paid well, Olivia thought to herself as they stood in the shadow of a statue that could well have been Poseidon, although his trident looked more like a dinner fork.
But it was the girl standing beside the tank who had Olivia’s full attention. She was more or less naked, wearing not much more than thin muslin wrapped around her hips and between her legs, almost like a loin cloth. Her small, high breasts were bare but covered with a kind of gold leaf painted directly onto her skin and colored glass jewels strategically placed for modesty’s sake.
The girl looked up as another woman strode purposefully into the tent, with a long strangely shaped piece of blue and green material hung over her arm.
The woman wore an elaborate gown of black and gold, which stopped just short of scandalous, with a tiny, tightly laced waist and full breasts almost spilling over her corset. Her shoulders were bare, a black lace shawl hanging from the crooks of her elbows across her back. Her hair was pure white with fain
t streaks of silver and was drawn back from her face to fall freely down her back.
Although her hair was white, she was far from old. If Olivia had to guess she would have put her age at maybe late thirties, early forties. Whatever the actual number, it was obvious the years had been kind to her. She was a striking woman, with dark eyes and an arresting face.
‘Ere,’ the woman tossed the material at the younger girl, ‘be careful wiv it this time. I ain’t paying for a new one.’
‘Thanks Pearl,’ she unfolded it and stepped into it, as if it were a sleeping bag. It was only when she shimmied the tightly fitting material up her long legs and over her shapely thighs that Olivia realized what it was.
A mermaid tail.
At her feet was a wide gauzy fin. The body of the tail pinned her legs closely together, allowing for barely an inch of movement. The strange tail laced up lightly like a bodice at the curve of her buttocks and once the laces were tucked into the back of the jeweled waistband the seam was practically invisible.
‘Got to look my best,’ the girl tossed her long ginger hair over her shoulder, her green eyes sparkling. ‘I’m gonna meet a fella tonight, I can feel it in my blood.’
Pearl rolled her eyes as she signaled to the man on the floor laying the new slats.
‘It’s true, Jackanory Violet told me so.’
‘For God’s sake Effie,’ Pearl fisted her hand on her hip, ‘why you think ‘er name’s Jackanory? It’s coz she makes shit up.’
‘Nah,’ the girl called Effie tilted her chin stubbornly, ‘you’ll see Pearl. You’ll see I’m right, e’ll be a right fine gent too. E’ll see me and fall madly in love wiv me.’
Pearl’s withering gaze swept from the top of Effie’s ginger hair to the long, rather convincing looking mermaid tail.
‘Oh, get your head out the clouds my girl. Ain’t no man gonna wanna fuck a woman what’s half fish.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Effie insisted resolutely.
‘Albert,’ Pearl nodded to the huge man as he unfolded himself from the floor and stood next to her, towering above her. ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’
Albert nodded and scooped Effie up effortlessly into his arms.
‘When I meet my gent,’ Effie continued, untroubled by the fact she was being held by the giant of a man, ‘e’s gonna marry me and he’ll buy me a fancy new bonnet wiv a peacock feather in it. We’ll honeymoon in Brighton and promenade along the seafront.’
‘You’d be better served keeping them punters ‘appy,’ Pearl nodded toward the entrance, ‘otherwise I’ll be showing you exactly where you can stick your peacock feather.’ She leaned in closer as her voice dropped and her eyes darkened. ‘Consider yourself lucky that you ain’t down on Ha’penny Street wiv the unfortunates and the molly boys… or perhaps you’d prefer to earn four’pnce on your back for a night at the doss house.’
Effie stared at Pearl but wisely chose not to say anything else.
‘Thought not,’ Pearl said after a moment. ‘Just you remember who took you in off the streets and gave you a roof over your head, food in your belly and money in your hand.’
Effie watched as Pearl shooed the two men with the ladder out of the way and headed out the main tent flap.
‘She’s right you know Effie,’ the towering giant looked down at her, his voice rusty as if he didn’t use it often.
‘Oh, shut up Albie,’ she snapped irritably.
Albert lifted her up and dumped her unceremoniously into the tank with a loud splash before returning to pick up his tools.
Olivia watched curiously as the girl rolled over in the tank, cutting through the water and somersaulting effortlessly, seemingly unperturbed by the fact her legs were bound tightly together by the fake mermaid tail.
Sensing Scarlett move beside her, Olivia followed wordlessly, the heavy skirts of her gown brushing along the hay covered ground. The girl caught sight of them and pushed upward, her head breaching the surface as she watched them approach the heavy ornate tank. Strangely, she didn’t seem breathless considering the amount of time she’d been underwater.
‘Lady Rebecca,’ she folded her forearms over the edge of the tank, her fake tail swishing back and forth as she tread water. ‘Thought you was in Paris.’
‘Hello Effie,’ Scarlett smiled softly, ‘change of plans temporarily. This is my friend Olivia.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Olivia nodded in greeting.
Effie turned her sharp green eyes on Olivia, studying her intently.
‘Don’t get your kind in ‘ere much,’ she mused.
‘What? Americans?’ Olivia replied.
‘Nah,’ she shook her head, ‘witches.’
Olivia’s back stiffened as her gaze narrowed defensively.
‘Don’t go getting your bloomers in a twist ducky,’ Effie grinned, ‘you’re wiv friends ‘ere.’
‘Am I?’
Effie grinned again and held out her dripping wet hand.
‘Euphemia Potter,’ she introduced herself grandly, ‘Queen of Atlantis,’ she added with a wink and an impish smile.
Olivia’s mouth twitched in amusement as she reached out and shook her hand politely.
‘You stayin’ for the show?’
‘Maybe,’ Scarlett murmured absently as her gaze swept across to the main entrance. ‘I need to speak with Pearl.’
Effie snorted.
‘Good luck wiv that,’ she huffed.
‘EFFIE!’ a young man hurried through the tent holding up something shiny which he clenched in his fist as if his life depended on it. ‘I found it!’
‘Bout time,’ Effie sighed, ‘show’s about to start.’
The young man flushed, his cheeks turning beetroot as Effie pushed herself up out of the water and sat on the edge of the tank, her long red hair streaming wetly down her back and her bare breasts elaborately decorated in gold leaf and fake jewels.
He stared at her with a slack mouth and slightly unfocused eyes, as if she were some kind of mythical siren sat atop a rock, about to lead him to certain death. A doom, it seemed he would be only too happy to embrace from the lovesick look of him.
‘Run along now Bert,’ Effie shooed him away. ‘You know what Pearl’ll say if she catches you in ‘ere again.’
He flushed again, giving her one last longing look as he disappeared amongst the stagehands.
Effie brushed her hair back from her shoulders revealing three curious looking slits either side of her neck. She picked up the jeweled collar Bert had handed her and fastened it securely around her neck to hide the strange ridges of skin.
‘Gills,’ Olivia gasped in realization.
Effie’s eyes landed on Olivia at her startled exclamation. She shot her a wink and a grin and dived back into the tank, swirling down to the bottom where she remained, staring through the glass.
‘She has gills,’ Olivia turned to Scarlett, keeping her voice deliberately low.
Scarlett nodded.
‘What is she?’ Olivia asked.
‘Mostly human,’ Scarlett stepped back as two huge burly men wrestled a garish, heavily painted golden statue of a mermaid past them and set it beside the closed tent flap to match its counterpart which sat sedately on the other side.
‘Define mostly human?’ Olivia replied curiously.
‘She’s descended from a water sprite,’ Scarlett explained. ‘For the most part her family have presented as normal humans but every so often the bloodline throws up an anomaly. Sometimes webbed feet or hands, sometimes translucent skin. With Effie it presented as gills. DNA is a primordial hot pot,’ she shrugged, ‘you never know what latent traits are going to show up.’
‘So, this whole circus is…’
‘Real?’ Scarlett laughed quietly, ‘ironic isn’t it? They come in droves to see the unexplained, the fantastical, the mystical and have no idea they really are looking at the genuine thing. Never underestimate Pearl, the woman is a manipulative genius. She gives them just enough fake to hide what’s real. It’s th
e perfect way to hide in plain sight.’
‘A fake mermaid tail to hide a real pair of gills?’
‘Exactly,’ Scarlett nodded, ‘misdirection. Keep them looking at one hand so they don’t see what the other is doing.’
‘Well that’s…’ Olivia frowned, ‘genius.’
‘Like I said, never underestimate Pearl.’
‘ROLL UP, ROLL UP, LADIES AND GENTS!’ Pearl’s booming voice could suddenly be heard from outside the tent flap.
‘Welcome to Madam Pearl’s Traveling Aquarium and Cirque Mystéres, newly arrived from the far-off wonders of India and the darkest reaches of Africa!’ Pearl’s voice echoed through the canvas.
‘More like the darkest reaches of Dorchester,’ Effie rolled her eyes having popped her head back out of the water and propped her head on one hand at the edge of the tank.
‘Step up good sir, step up! Prepare to disbelieve your very own eyes! For we have wonders the likes of which ‘ave never been seen before!’
They listened as her voice rose and fell in cadence as she worked the crowd into a frenzy. She heard their gasps, their whistles, and finally a rousing stamping and thunderous applause.
‘PREPARE TO BE AMAZED! PREPARE TO BE ASTOUNDED, PREPARE TO BE…
‘Robbed of a shilling,’ Effie murmured.
Olivia snorted softly.
‘You two better get out of ‘ere,’ Effie nodded toward the corridor they’d entered by, ‘unless you want to be stampeded by a bunch of idiots and gawkers.’
‘Come on,’ Scarlett stared back across the tent which was now cleared of workmen but was filling with several young men and women in slightly risqué costumes, which again could have been Greek or Roman but as far as Olivia could tell had very little to actually do with mermaids.
Necropolis Page 3
