by Dilly Court
Effie swallowed hard, holding her hand to her heart as it pounded against her tightly laced stays. ‘Good heavens! Is that what you are? How do you do that?’
He pulled a flask from his belt, filled his mouth and expelled a fine mist into the torch which exploded into a fireball. He wiped his lips on the back of his hand. ‘That ain’t nothing. You watch me when I swallow flaming swords. I’ve entertained all the crowned heads of Europe in me time.’
Impressed and still feeling a little weak, Effie could hardly speak. ‘Well, I never.’
‘No, you never saw a fellow to equal me, I’ll warrant.’ He held out his free hand. ‘Elmo the fire-eater.’
Effie shook his hand. ‘I’m Effie.’
‘Yes, I know. News travels fast around here.’ With a dramatic wave of his torch, Elmo bowed and sauntered off leaving Effie staring after him, but a shout from Leah brought her back to the present and she hurried over to the fairings stall.
No sooner had they unpacked the crate of china ornaments and arranged them on the white cloth than the first punters began to wander through the fairground. Soon the place was alive with the sound of excited chatter, laughter and music. Effie watched in awe as Leah shouted out her wares, exchanged banter with the customers and persuaded parsimonious husbands to part with their hard-earned money in order to buy a pretty china ornament for their wives. Effie worked diligently, wrapping the delicate objects in brown paper and taking money while Leah concentrated on selling, but Georgie was constantly on Effie’s mind and at the first opportunity she hurried back to the encampment. She found him sitting side by side with Margery on the steps of her caravan. From a distance they looked like two children, but Margery was holding a baby in her arms and she smiled proudly when she saw Effie.
‘This here is my little ’un, Victoria, named after her majesty. Ain’t she just the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen?’
Effie nodded in agreement. ‘Yes, she’s just perfect. Thank you so much for minding Georgie.’ She bent down to scoop him up in her arms and give him a cuddle, which he resisted, squirming and demanding to be put down.
‘He’s a fine boy,’ Margery said, chuckling. ‘He’s got a mind of his own, I’ll warrant.’
Effie set him back on the ground, watching him toddle off to disturb one of the puppies which were enjoying a nap in the warm sunshine. ‘He takes after his pa,’ she murmured, blinking away the tears that sprang to her eyes when she thought of Owen.
‘Run off, did he?’ Margery patted the baby’s back as it began to whimper. ‘Happens all the time.’
‘He died before Georgie was born. He never saw his son.’
Margery made a sympathetic sound in her throat. ‘That’s hard, that is. Never mind, ducks, you got a lovely little chap there, and I don’t doubt there’ll be someone else waiting round the corner to sweep you off your feet. Unless, of course, it’s Toby that you fancy and I wouldn’t bet on him.’
‘I don’t want anyone else,’ Effie said hotly. ‘And it’s not like that at all. I’m looking for my brother and I think he might be with Toby, who is just a friend.’
‘All right, don’t get in a miff. I was just surmising and meant no offence.’ Margery scrambled to her feet, hoisting the baby over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. ‘Now I got to get dressed for me first show.’
‘Who will look after your baby?’ Effie asked, suddenly anxious. ‘I can’t go back to the stall if there’s no one to keep an eye on Georgie.’
Margery paused as she was about to enter her caravan, pointing her finger in the direction of a much older woman dressed all in black, who was stirring something in a cast iron pot over the camp fire. She looked so much like the illustration of a witch that Effie had once seen in a picture book that she caught her breath, but Margery seemed quite unperturbed. ‘That’s Gert. She used to be the fortune teller but she’s getting on a bit now and her daughter, Laila, reads the cards. Gert watches over the nippers while the rest of us goes about our work.’
Effie bit her lip, staring anxiously at the old woman. ‘Can she cope with small children? I mean, she might not be able to move quickly enough if they were in danger.’
Margery cackled with laughter. ‘She’s a fortune teller, ducks. If she don’t foresee danger then no one can. You leave young Georgie with me and I’ll make sure that Gert keeps an eye on him.’
Despite Margery’s confidence in Gert’s prowess as a child minder Effie spent an anxious afternoon, and when Leah put Myrtle in charge of the stall so that they could return to the caravan for their supper, Effie raced on ahead. She found a group of young children seated on the ground close to Gert, who was in the process of telling them a story. For a dreadful moment Effie was convinced that Georgie was not amongst them, but then she saw him sitting beside a girl of about six or seven. He was covered in dirt from head to foot, which made his eyes look even bluer when a smile of recognition lit his small face and he scrambled to his feet, running towards Effie with his arms outstretched. She caught him up and held him close. He lifted his face to give her a sticky kiss and she rubbed her cheek against his dusty curls. ‘My goodness, Georgie Grey, what a state you’re in.’
‘It ain’t nothing but what a tub of water won’t wash away,’ Gert said, apparently overhearing Effie’s softly spoken remark. The fortune teller might be old, Effie thought, but there was nothing wrong with her hearing, and if it were true that Gert could see things in her crystal ball, she might just know where to find Toby.
Effie moved closer to the old woman, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of her unwashed body and musty clothes. ‘Madam Gert,’ she began nervously.
Gert cocked her head on one side. ‘You’re going to ask me the whereabouts of Toby Tapper, the horse trader.’
Effie felt her mouth drop open and she closed it quickly. ‘H-how did you know that? Have you looked in your crystal ball?’
‘You’re an innocent all right,’ Gert said, cackling with laughter. ‘No, dearie, it’s all round the camp that you’re looking for Toby, and it ain’t the first time that a young woman has come searching for the young devil.’ Gert’s smile faded into a look that bordered on the sympathetic. ‘But I can see that it ain’t so in your case.’
‘I’m looking for my brother. He’s only thirteen and not yet a man. I’m afraid that something might have happened to him.’
Getting to her feet, Gert thrust her hand into her pocket and took out a handful of dried herbs which she tossed onto the fire. She leaned over the smoke, inhaling deeply, and then subsided back on her haunches. She closed her eyes. ‘I can smell marsh gas and mist. The fog is curling up around a boy and he’s fading away . . .’ With a convulsive shudder Gert opened her eyes, staring wildly around her. ‘What did I say? Did I tell you where to find Tom?’
Effie was shivering violently. She felt ice-cold although it was a balmy evening and the heat from the camp fire was intense. ‘How did you know his name? I never told you.’
‘I dunno, ducks. It comes and goes, the gift; although it goes more often than it comes these days. You should get Laila to read the tarot cards and look into her crystal ball. She’s got the sight now but mine is fading. What I can tell you is that there is a tall man waiting to have words with you.’
‘Do you know his name?’ Effie demanded, her curiosity aroused and a tingle of apprehension running down her spine. ‘How do you know he wants to speak to me?’
Gert grinned, exposing a row of blackened tooth stumps. ‘Because he’s standing right behind you, ducks.’
Chapter Five
EFFIE TURNED HER head and found herself looking up into the whiskery face of the Great Arnoldo. ‘Did you want me, mister?’
‘Arnoldo,’ he boomed in a stentorian voice that reverberated off the wooden sides of the caravans. ‘Everyone addresses me Arnoldo.’
‘Except your ma who calls your Arnie,’ Gert muttered.
‘What did you say, old woman?’
‘That’s no way to addre
ss a lady, Mr Arnoldo,’ Effie said angrily. ‘I daresay as how you wouldn’t wish anyone to speak to your ma in that way.’
He bent down to stare into Effie’s face. ‘You dare to speak to the Great Arnoldo like that?’
‘I do, sir. Especially when I know I am in the right. Now, what is it you have to say to me? If you want me to leave, then I have to tell you that I have no intention of staying any longer than one more night.’
‘Oh, well then you won’t want the two-headed woman’s caravan after all.’ Arnoldo twitched his massive shoulders and pursed his lips, causing his moustache to quiver like a small furry animal clinging to his upper lip.
‘She wants the van,’ Gert said sternly. ‘Don’t torment the girl, Arnie. She’s worked hard for her bed and board and she’ll not find her young man for a while yet. I can tell you that for nothing.’
‘If you say so.’ Arnoldo seemed to shrink in stature and he bowed his head in deference to Gert’s commanding presence. ‘I suppose she can have the van until we find someone more permanent, but I shall expect something in return.’
‘I can work hard,’ Effie said firmly. ‘I don’t mind what I do.’
‘You don’t?’ Arnoldo peered down at her, frowning thoughtfully. ‘Then I have the perfect job for a small person like you. See me in the morning, but now I have a show to do.’ He strolled off with his cloak flying out around him like the wings of a giant bird.
‘Soft as butter,’ Gert said, winking. ‘He’s afraid of his own shadow, but don’t let on I said so.’
Effie’s mind was bemused by the strange events of the day and she shook her head. ‘Did he say I could have the two-headed woman’s caravan?’
Gert rose stiffly to her feet, hitching up her long skirts to expose skinny legs bristling with black hairs and large feet encased in a pair of men’s boots. ‘Come with me and I’ll show you. Best bring young Georgie too and then you can put him to bed. Leah will want you to help out on the stall this evening, so it’s best to settle the boy first.’
Effie had to chase Georgie in order to catch him and he chuckled with glee, seeming to think this was all part of the exciting game of living in a fairground. With him firmly tucked beneath one arm, Effie followed Gert to a caravan just a few yards distant from the one owned by Leah and Zilla. It was by contrast very run down and verging on the dilapidated. The paintwork was blistered and peeling and when Gert opened the door Effie was appalled by the smell emanating from the interior.
Gert stood aside to allow her to pass. ‘It’s nothing that a bit of elbow grease won’t cure, and a few buckets of hot water and washing soda.’
Effie stared at the chaotic jumble inside. It was evident that the two-headed lady and the lizard man had left in a hurry. ‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll see to it in the morning.’
‘Leave the door open when you’ve put the nipper to bed and I’ll keep an ear open for him should he wake, but seeing as how he’s been racing round like a lunatic all day, I think he’ll sleep well tonight.’ Gert wandered back to the fire, leaving Effie to explore her temporary home.
Holding her breath, she entered the caravan and set Georgie down on one of the bunks. It might, she thought, have been better had she seen it late at night when darkness would have disguised the torn curtains and moth-eaten covers on the squabs, which were stained and looked suspiciously greasy. The air was thick with the smell of decomposing food, human sweat and stale tallow from the candle stubs that littered the table and shelves. Effie opened the window to allow air into the van, and finding an old sack lying on the floor she swept the detritus off the table and floor into it, tossing it outside onto the grass when it was full.
Georgie was unnaturally quiet and she smiled at the sight of his rosy, dirt-smeared face as he lay sleeping where she had placed him. His dark eyelashes formed crescents on his cheeks and his soft brown curls, streaked golden by the sun, flopped over his forehead. He was so small and helpless and so dear to her that it almost hurt to look at him. She bent down to drop a kiss on his cheek and he stirred, smiling in his sleep. She would not normally have allowed him to go to bed in such a filthy state, but it would be a shame to wake him now. She covered him with her shawl, tucking it around him so that he would not roll off the bunk. She was reluctant to leave him, but she trusted Gert to keep her word and listen out for any sounds of distress from the van. With a last, loving look at her baby, Effie climbed down the rickety steps to the ground and receiving an encouraging nod from Gert, she made her way to the fairings stall.
Next morning, Effie awakened to find Georgie tugging at her hair and she snapped into a sitting position. The interior of the caravan looked even worse as the sunlight poured in through the open window, and she clutched Georgie to her as a large cockroach scuttled across the table, falling to the floor where it joined the rest of its large family. Effie stifled a cry of disgust and she swung her legs over the side of the bunk, reaching down for her boots. She turned them upside down and gave them a shake; a small brown field mouse toppled out of one boot, stopped for a moment to stare at her with button-bright eyes and then scurried towards the door where it disappeared through a hole in the boards. To her relief the other boot was free from livestock and Effie crammed her feet into her well-worn footwear before standing up. Each time she took a step the roaches crunched beneath her feet like dry leaves on a forest floor. Georgie was fascinated by the moving carpet on the floor and not at all frightened by the shifting insect mass. He would, Effie thought with a shudder, have been quite happy to play with them as if they were clockwork toys, but she was not prepared to put her theory to the test. She lifted him in her arms and tried not to pull a face as she trod carefully across the floor. She opened the door, hesitating on the top step as she stared open-mouthed at the sight that met her eyes.
Below on the grass, Elmo the fire-eater was tending a fire over which hung a huge pot of bubbling water. He looked up and saluted her. ‘Fire is my business, Effie,’ he said, smiling and revealing a row of surprisingly white teeth. ‘We thought you might need a bit of a hand this morning.’ His expansive gesture encompassed a group of people that Effie had seen but not yet met.
A young woman wearing a rather theatrical version of a gypsy’s costume, complete with a headdress decorated with shiny metal coins and a red scarf knotted around her slender throat, stepped forward. In her hand she held a poke filled with tea leaves and another containing sugar. ‘I’m Laila,’ she said in a deep, musical voice. ‘Gert’s daughter. We thought you’d want to start the day with a cup of split pea.’
Effie descended the steps and took the packets with a grateful smile. ‘That’s very kind.’
Laila beckoned to an older woman who carried a pail and a mop. ‘This here is Annie. She’s Dr Destiny’s missis. He’s the crocuser who makes and sells Dr Destiny’s Elixir of Life, a cure for everything from warts to dropsy.’
Annie smiled shyly. ‘The two-headed woman wasn’t much inclined to cleanliness. I thought you might need a bit of help clearing up her mess.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Effie said earnestly. ‘I would be very grateful. It smells like something died in there and it’s full of cockroaches and mice.’
‘We’ll soon have those out,’ Annie said, rolling up her sleeves as she climbed the steps and stood in the doorway, staring at the interior. ‘I’ll have them curtains down too, unless you’ve got any objections. I think I might have a spare pair in my van, and . . .’ she broke off, but Effie could hear her tut-tutting as she disappeared inside.
‘You can leave it to Annie,’ Laila said cheerfully. ‘And this is Frank Tinsley, he’s the head man round here and he runs the merry-go-round together with his son, Frank junior. They do all the carpentry round here.’
Frank tipped his cap. ‘Those steps are a death trap. Frank junior will fix them up for you afore you can wink an eye. We don’t want you tumbling down them and breaking a leg or hurting the nipper.’ Without waiting for a reply he took a tape measure from his pocket and the
stub of a pencil from behind his ear. He picked up a scrap of paper from the ground and began jotting down numbers.
‘You’re all very kind,’ Effie said, swallowing a large lump in her throat. She had become so used to being bullied and browbeaten by Jacob that to come face to face with such overt kindness was quite overpowering.
Elmo patted her on the shoulder. ‘Water’s boiling, missis. How about a nice cup of tea?’
Gert wandered over at this point, holding a jug of milk in her hand. ‘Just milked the cow, so there’s plenty here for the young ’un and for tea as well.’
Annie poked her head out of the window, flapping a piece of dusty rag. ‘Jessie,’ she shrieked at the top of her voice. ‘Fetch a couple of slices of bread for the lady, and don’t skimp on the butter.’
The small girl to whom this command was directed jumped to attention like a well-trained soldier, and ran over to a caravan with Dr Destiny painted in scarlet letters on its side. She went inside, reappearing moments later with two hunks of bread and butter which she presented shyly to Effie.
‘Thank you,’ Effie said, smiling as she recognised the child who had befriended Georgie the previous evening. ‘That’s very kind of you, Jessie.’
‘I’ll clean him up for you if you like,’ Jessie murmured, jerking her copper-coloured head in Georgie’s direction. ‘Us played together yesterday. He’s a poppet.’
Georgie obviously reciprocated this sentiment as he wriggled in his mother’s arms, making it plain that he wanted to go to his new friend. Effie put him down on the ground. ‘Georgie needs a good wash; can you do that, Jessie?’
Jessie puffed out her chest. ‘I got two brothers younger than me and three sisters, older than me. I’m good with nippers, ain’t I, Ma?’
The duster appeared out of the window followed by Annie’s flushed face. ‘A proper little mother is Jessie. She may only be seven but she’s a great help. You can trust my Jessie to look after the little chap. She won’t let you down.’
