Blue moved out of the shelter of Fred’s arm. ‘Did you know any of that?’
He shrugged. Doesn’t want to lie outright, thought Blue. Or maybe he didn’t want to say what he knew in front of Ebenezer and Ephraim. He had known Madame the longest, after Mrs Olsen, after all.
She turned to the brothers. ‘What about you?’
‘People have a right to their secrets,’ said Ebenezer. ‘Madame knows what’s best.’
Blue looked at them helplessly. Madame might never wake up again. ‘Someone was killed. Murdered. His head cut off. Don’t you even want to know who did it?’ It had to be someone from the circus, she thought desperately. An outsider might kill someone, but they couldn’t put a body in the House of Horrors.
Or could they? Madame was blind. If someone had hidden a skeleton, she might never have even known it was there. Or even a body. She shuddered. How long did it take for a body to become a skeleton? That poor man … or had he been a bad man, like Lenny Frearson? But no one deserved a death like that.
Fred put his arm around her again. ‘Need to get you a jumper, princess. Wind’s cold off the river,’ he said.
Blue shook him off. She didn’t want to touch anyone. She had thought she had left murder behind. Instead it had travelled with her, all the way from Willow Creek. Was Miss Matilda right? Could Fred have planned to get her to fall for him, marry him? Mah might even have told him that Blue would get her inheritance when she married. Mah would never have knowingly hurt her, but …
She bit her lip. She couldn’t think. It was as though a huge knife hung invisible in the sky, waiting to slash at her life.
‘Wind’s getting up. Better check the guy ropes on the tents,’ said Ephraim heavily. Ebenezer followed him down to the tents by the river.
Fred gave Blue and Mah one of his best grins. ‘It’ll be right,’ he said. ‘Whoever that poor bloke is, you two are in the clear. Don’t you go worrying about the future neither. Things’ll turn up. Always do.’
Like robbing a bank? Blue tried to smile back. She followed Mah up the steps and into the Olsens’ caravan.
Mrs Olsen sat cross-legged on one of the beds, her eyes and nose red, twisting Ginger’s handkerchief between her fingers.
‘I’ll walk to the train station if I have to.’ Gertrude didn’t look up as she stuffed clothes into a shabby carpetbag. She was packing all three white dresses, Blue saw, as well as the costumes from her three acts. It still seemed a pitifully small bag, compared to the trunks and hatboxes Blue’s mother had travelled with.
I have even less, thought Blue. But at least I’m who I’ve always known I am. I’ve got more futures to choose from too. She looked at Gertrude. The girl was white-faced, her tears resolutely unshed. Mrs Olsen looked small and defeated beside her.
Mrs Olsen seemed to force herself to speak. ‘Gertrude, please. At least wait till I can come with you, make sure you are happy with Mammoth.’
‘I don’t need you with me! If I don’t like it, I’ll find somewhere else.’ She turned to face them all. ‘I’m good! Vaudeville, sideshows — anyone would be glad to have me. And you can’t come with me. The police won’t let you.’
‘It will all be sorted out soon …’ There was no conviction in Mrs Olsen’s voice.
‘It won’t be! Who knows what the old witch has been up to? And you too! Lying to me for years …’
‘I did my best,’ said Mrs Olsen helplessly.
‘You shouldn’t have lied!’ Gertrude hunted through the trunk for a moment, then looked up again. ‘I need some money. Where does Madame keep it?’
‘You can’t take Madame’s money,’ said Mrs Olsen.
‘It’s ours too! More ours than hers. We earned it! Never mind! I don’t need money anyhow! I’ll get to Sydney somehow. Jump the rattler or get a lift.’
Gertrude fastened the bag, then looked down at her bare feet, shorts and shirt, as though suddenly realising she wasn’t dressed for a dramatic exit into a new life. She gave a small shrug and shoved past Mrs Olsen, past Blue and Mah, then down the caravan stairs.
‘Gertrude, wait.’ Mah grabbed her arm.
‘Let go of me!’
‘We just want to say goodbye.’
‘And good luck,’ said Blue. To her surprise she meant it. Gertrude had been like a butterfly trapped in her cocoon too long. With her wings unfurled she might be different. Worse perhaps, thought Blue wryly, playing the queen or star. Or maybe not.
Gertrude hesitated. ‘Thanks,’ she said abruptly.
‘Your mother only did her best for you,’ added Mah quietly.
‘She isn’t my mother.’
‘She’s more a mother than I ever had. You’re lucky.’
‘More than I have now too,’ said Blue.
Gertrude stared at them. She glanced up at Mrs Olsen, standing forlornly at the top of the caravan steps. Gertrude flung down the carpetbag. Suddenly now the tears did come, as she scrambled up the steps and into Mrs Olsen’s arms. ‘I’m sorry. Mum, I’m sorry. I was just —’
‘Hush, lambkin. I know. I know,’ said Mrs Olsen.
‘I do want you to come. And Ginger too! Please? Just for a while.’ Gertrude stepped back, rubbing the tears with a fist. ‘We can save up for a house for you, just like you’ve always wanted. It won’t take us long, not at eight pounds a week! And I can stay with you there in between tours. But I’ve got to go. Don’t you see? I’ve got to!’
‘Yes, love. It’ll be all right, love.’
‘Do you think the sergeant will let Mrs Olsen go too?’ asked Mah quietly.
Blue nodded. ‘I think so. He’ll know where they are, if he needs them.’ But he won’t call them back, she thought. Mrs Olsen had managed one violent act in her whole life, striking the hand of the man who had tortured her and the children she loved. She might have had the strength to cut off a man’s hand, but she would never have killed a man.
Nor would Mrs Olsen ever feel the gruesome glee needed to wire her victim’s head to its skeleton and place it in a House of Horrors, or the callousness to leave it where others would touch it, even her children. Blue shivered. It wasn’t just the skeleton they had travelled with, she thought. It was the hatred that had hung it there.
Chapter 26
Blue sat outside Madame’s room while Gertrude and Mrs Olsen and Ginger said goodbye to the still-unconscious old woman. Nurse Blamey wouldn’t let too many people into the sick room. Blue caught only a glimpse of Madame, lying on her back, neat in a white nightdress Miss Matilda must have provided, her face dark against the white pillow, her claw-like hands on the white sheet. She looked small without her shawls, defenceless without her black dress.
The hall was strangely similar to the one they’d had at home. No, she thought, it’s not strange. Because what else can you do with a hall, except put Persian runners on the polished boards, add a side table with a vase of roses and a bowl of potpourri, and hang paintings on the wall?
A door at the other end of the corridor opened. The man she had met earlier limped out, a walking stick held awkwardly in his hand. She stood up politely, again conscious of her grubby bare feet, her sagging shorts and tattered shirt. But if he found anything odd in having a ragamuffin in his hall, he didn’t mention it. Instead he looked at her with a kind of wonder.
‘Good morning, Mr Thompson,’ said Blue. She hadn’t heard the grandfather clock in the hall below strike noon yet, so she supposed it was still morning.
‘Good morning, Miss, er …’ He had clearly forgotten the introduction that morning.
‘Blue Laurence,’ said Blue. There seemed to be no point in continuing to use an alias when both this man’s wife and the sergeant knew her real name. Besides, there was a solidity about this house and the woman who owned it that gave her a feeling of security and trust again. The police might take her from the circus to put her back in her aunts’ care, but she doubted they’d do so from the home of the largest property owner in the district.
Mr Thompson politely ign
ored her bare feet and sagging shorts. ‘Miss Laurence, I know this may seem odd, but I thought I glimpsed an elephant down by the river.’
‘That’s the Queen of Sheba,’ said Blue.
‘So I wasn’t seeing things.’ He gave a sudden smile. It wasn’t much of a smile, with only half his mouth, but his eyes had the wrinkles of a man who had laughed a lot and happily. ‘I always wanted to ride an elephant to work when I was a lad.’
She smiled at him, sharing the delight in Sheba. She’s brought him back from whatever vague place he was this morning, thought Blue. Just like she did for me, back when I was vague with pain and sickness. ‘You can ride her, if you like.’
He shook his head, gesturing at his leg and cane.
‘No, really,’ Blue assured him. ‘I … I can’t walk properly either, but Sheba’s back is so broad it’s easy. Ephraim and Ebenezer will help you get up on her.’
‘And they are …?’
‘We’re the Magnifico Family Circus. Mrs Thompson was kind enough to let us camp here for a while. Things … things aren’t so good just now.’
‘And my wife has taken control?’ He gave his half grin again. ‘Matilda is good at that. So now we have a visiting elephant.’
‘You can feed her, if you like.’
He looked down at his walking stick. The smile sank back into his face. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Mr Thompson …’ she spoke impulsively. Men knew about money and wills. Men like Mr Thompson anyway. ‘I … I need help.’
‘Help?’ Once more it was as if he stepped back to her from his world of invalidism. ‘My dear girl, of course.’
‘I … I need to know if I have any money. I know that sounds silly. My parents died …’
‘My wife told me.’ His voice was gentle. She held his whole attention now. ‘Wait a minute. Laurence. Any relation to Laurence’s Shoes?’
‘My grandfather started the company. Dad managed it. Dad’s will didn’t mention the company. And then … I was hurt the night after the will was read. I never had a chance to ask questions, or have things explained to me. Dad’s will said I only inherit after I’m twenty-five, or if I get married. But is there any money I can use now? Can … can my aunts claim me back if they find out where I am?’ She stopped, unwilling to burden him with even more. But he didn’t seem burdened. The glint of interest he’d had in his eyes when he spoke of Sheba was even brighter now.
‘I should be able to find out that for you. Do you know the name of your father’s solicitor?’
At least she knew that. ‘Mr Cummins.’
‘I’ll get the operator to find his office number and put a call through to him. Better still, I’ll put my own solicitors onto it. Mr Cummins is more likely to be open with them than a stranger. Excuse me for asking, Miss Laurence, but how old are you?’
‘Seventeen. But please call me Blue.’
‘From what I know of the law, unless you are in moral danger your aunts can’t force you back. And even then if you don’t wish to live with them, the court can appoint another guardian.’ The grin was back, almost as cheeky as Fred’s, despite the grey hair, the wrinkles, the drooping mouth. ‘I can promise you that you are in no danger here, moral or otherwise.’ The grin grew wider. ‘My wife would never permit it.’
It was as though Blue had been carrying pails of water and had at last put them down. ‘I … I can’t thank you enough.’
‘A pleasure. Damsels in distress have always been my specialty. Especially if they arrive with an elephant. Is my wife downstairs, do you know?’
‘I think so.’ She’d last seen Miss Matilda in the hall, making no pretence of not listening while the sergeant made phone call after phone call, drinking cups of tea and eating cherry cake while he waited each time for the telephonists to connect him to other police stations.
‘Thank you.’ He nodded politely. She watched him limp carefully down the stairs, a step at a time, pausing to lift his unresponsive left leg each time.
Someone moved downstairs. Fred bounded up the steps, then paused to let Mr Thompson pass. ‘Good morning, sir.’
Mr Thompson nodded.
Fred climbed the rest of the stairs and pulled a straight-backed chair up next to Blue.
‘You all right, princess?’
‘Yes. Fred, did you know about Mrs Olsen?’
He looked at her carefully. ‘Yes and no.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I knew enough not to ask questions. And that the Señor Zamorano stuff was all malarkey. I did think Mrs Olsen was too young to be Gertrude’s mum. Gertrude doesn’t look like her and Ginger neither. Knew Mrs Olsen was scared of someone too. But like I said …’
‘You didn’t ask questions. Fred?’
‘What is it, princess?’ he said gently.
‘That first evening after you all rescued me. You said I was pretty. Prettier than Gertrude.’
He looked at her, serious for once. ‘You are.’
She let that slide. ‘I wasn’t then. I know how I looked in the mirror. I looked horrible. Did you … did you just say that because you knew that I might have money?’
‘Yes,’ said Fred flatly. He took her hand, kissed it briefly and put it back in her lap. ‘Marj never said you were going to be rich. But when she told us we had to rescue you I talked with Madame and it only made sense if you were going to be rich. Why’d the old biddies want to bump you off if it weren’t for money? Then a few days later there it was in the paper, calling you an heiress.’
‘So you thought you’d charm the ugly rich girl.’
‘I’d have charmed you anyway,’ said Fred. He grinned at her.
That’s probably true too, thought Blue. Fred could charm the cockatoos out of the trees. She looked at him, wanting to find the right words for her next question. Had the whole past year of his friendship been a lie?
Fred watched her, no smile now. ‘We’d have saved you anyway, even if you’d never had a bean. I’d have done it for Marj, and Madame, well, she likes making the world to fit the way she wants it to be. The money you might inherit was just icing on the cake. Do you remember the second time I told you that you were beautiful?’
‘The day I put on the mermaid’s costume,’ said Blue slowly.
‘Well, it was true then. And it’s been true ever since. Yeah, I wondered if I could get myself a rich wife, for a while. But not once I’d got to know you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Because you’re special,’ said Fred. ‘The most special person I’ve ever known. And because I’d be no good for you as a husband. I don’t just mean with what I did hanging over me. When I came up the stairs you looked like you belonged here.’ He gestured at the hall, the gold-framed paintings on the walls. ‘Yeah, bare feet and all. And I don’t. Don’t want to neither.’
He met her eyes. Blue was startled to see what might be a tear. But when she looked again it was gone.
‘I’m a rover, princess. Got to like seeing what’s over the horizon. Having a wife means having kids, settling down. It’s not for me.’
‘Fred.’ She lowered her voice, in case the nurse inside overheard. ‘I’m pretty sure the sergeant doesn’t believe you’re Mah’s cousin.’
‘He’s no fool. But he ain’t arrested me either. Reckon he’s more interested in finding out who cut the head off that bloke. A murder’s more important than an old robbery that wasn’t on his patch.’
‘You really don’t know anything about someone being beheaded?’
‘Course not. Gives me the willies to think of it hanging in the next tent every time I went to bed. I must have brushed past that skeleton a thousand times.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t see any of the others putting it there either. Circus folk is superstitious. And there’s a lot safer ways to get rid of a body than hanging it up for every customer to pay sixpence to gawp at.’
‘Hidden in plain sight,’ said Blue softly. ‘Like you and me.’
‘And the Olsens. Nah, I reckon it was
someone else put it there, before Madame even bought it. Her eyes were none too good for a long time. Probably never even looked at it closely. Good thing she don’t know about it now either,’ he added. ‘She’s been telling fortunes next to it all these years. Probably give her the willies too. But look, it’s gone now, princess. Nothing for you to worry about. And you’re with good people here. You let them take care of you.’
Suddenly he bent over and kissed her. His lips were cool on hers, and softer than she had thought a man’s lips would be.
‘There,’ he said lightly. ‘I’ve kissed the mermaid. You goin’ to the station to see the Olsens off?’
She touched her fingers to her lips, then nodded.
‘Wish them good luck from me. I need to see a man about a dog. Got things to do,’ he added, when he saw she didn’t understand the term. ‘See you later, princess.’
Blue watched him lope down the stairs. He didn’t look back.
Chapter 27
Joseph’s brother Andy drove the Olsens to the station to catch the ten to four train, with Mah and Blue squeezed into the back with Gertrude and Ginger.
Andy McAlpine was as tall as his brother, with the same craggy build. His hair was sandy, well greased to keep it neat, and his wide moustache was waxed to two points. His eyes had shadows that his brother’s lacked, but they had kindness too. He asked no questions. Perhaps, thought Blue, as the car turned in to the station, his brother had already told him all he knew.
The wind whipped grass seeds along the platform. Blue brushed the flies from her eyes and looked down the empty train track. There was no sign of the friendly stationmaster.
‘Train’s usually a bit late,’ said Mr McAlpine. ‘Hang on,’ he added to Mrs Olsen. ‘Mrs Mutton packed you some dinner. It’s in the boot. Back in a sec.’
Mrs Olsen nodded wordlessly as he vanished back through the waiting room. She looked nervous, but younger somehow, as though the weight of secrets falling away had taken the years with them. Gertrude looked apprehensive too, realising perhaps the work, and luck, needed to make her dreams reality. Even Ginger was subdued, despite the joy of anticipating his first train ride.
Down the Road to Gundagai Page 25
