Voices: Son of the Circus

by E. L. Norry

  For my own unique rag-tag circus family:

  Ed, Samuel and Maisy.

  Contents

  Cover

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Author’s Note

  Copyright

  PROLOGUE

  Tell your neighbours! Tell your friends!

  Fanque’s show is here!

  A circus so enthralling

  All your cares will disappear

  Edwin, Sid and Hugo

  Defy Sir Isaac’s laws

  Their airborne antics always raise

  Tumultuous applause

  Brown the Clown turns upside down

  All notions of decorum

  His capers so comedic

  Only strong ribs can endure ’em

  Larkin the equestrian

  Brings man and horse in chorus

  With preternatural elegance,

  A modern-day Centaurus!

  The show that Pablo treats you to

  Surpasses childish fun,

  With wondrous tricks, you’ll be transfixed

  The moment it’s begun.

  1.

  March 1867, Bradfield, South Yorkshire

  I was twelve years old when I joined the circus.

  One cold afternoon, Mother called me and my older brother George in from the street, where we’d been running along the tops of the walls between houses and the alleys, chasing each other.

  George could never catch me; I ran too fast and was sure of my footing – even though the walls were high – and George always looked down, worried about stumbling over loose bricks.

  I thought Mother meant to scold George again for not being wrapped up warm enough, but when we burst through the door, there was a man sitting with his back to us in the high-backed chair reserved for guests. His hat was on the hook inside the door and Mother’s good china was upon the table, which meant he was important. Maybe she’d found a lodger at last. We needed one to bring in extra money.

  I licked my fingers and quickly smoothed down the hair around my ears that tended to frizz up and out.

  “Where is the lad then?”

  The man’s low, rumbling tone reminded me of factory machinery.

  George threw me a what-have-you-done-now glare. I shrugged – nothing that I could think of.

  We boys had no occasion for visitors. The only folk who came out to Bradfield, away from the bustle of town, were customers dropping off or collecting the clothes Mother mended for them. We weren’t the poorest, but we rarely had meat with dinner anymore. Life had been especially tough since the great flood three years ago. We lived with our grandparents but their house had half-washed away, so we’d needed to move into lodgings, and there were fewer shillings to go around.

  As well as mending, Mother now also worked five nights a week over at the Bull and Yoke pub that Grandmother ran. Neither of them smiled much these days.

  “Boys!” Mother ushered us in front of the gentleman. The small fire behind us crackled, warming the back of my legs.

  I’d never met anyone else with brown skin the same as mine and George’s before, not unless it could be rubbed off – like someone who’d come out of the coal factories, or a chimney sweep’s boy, covered head to toe in soot. But this man was darker than us both, and, somehow, the way he sat so upright and still made me think he wasn’t ever teased about not scrubbing himself hard enough.

  I stepped towards him.

  He was a smartly dressed in a black waistcoat and dark grey-striped trousers. He slowly removed his tan leather gloves. Out of his waistcoat pocket dangled a gold chain, linked to a watch, which he was staring at, as shiny as any I’d seen. His moustache was big and bushy, and his hair fluffy, like mine. Didn’t look like he went hungry, either, with such plump cheeks.

  He smiled at both of us, though – his dark, lively eyes fixed on me.

  “Come closer, both of you. I shan’t bite.”

  If he was not a prospective lodger, perhaps he had come to offer me an apprenticeship? Mother had mentioned that the local book-binder enquired about me a few weeks ago – was this he? I’d been hoping for decent work, something less dangerous than the steel factory. Leaning over a grinding wheel, shaping steel knives and forks was hard, dirty work, and after George got particles in his left eye, leaving him partially blind, and developed a terrible cough, Mother stopped us working there.

  “Edward,” Mother said, sounding stern. “Edward and George, this is … well, this is William Darby the circus owner: your father.” She didn’t look at us but lifted her chin proudly.

  The silence was big enough to fall into. This man was our father?

  Sometimes, in the dead of night, George and I played guessing games about who, and where, our father might be – George fancied him to be a sailor, and I an inventor, but we only span such tales to amuse and comfort each other. We had no idea who he really was. If we ever asked, Mother became upset. She said we were too young to know the details and that life ‘was complicated’ when a white woman chose to marry a man of colour. She told us that although some people were tolerant, her parents had refused to embrace him into the family because they disapproved of his profession – his class – as much as, or more than, his skin colour. But now here he was – a circus man?

  Even though a thousand questions fizzed on my tongue, I waited quietly, staring at my grimy nails with my hands folded, knowing Mother would not appreciate me asking questions.

  “William and I met some years ago, at his circus. I … I used to ride horses.”

  “And very talented she was too!” the man added, beaming.

  I tried to imagine Mother on a horse. She had never mentioned such a thing! How could she ride with such big skirts and petticoats? Mother and Mr Darby smiled at each other and her eyes misted over. I poked George in the ribs, and he nudged me back, chewing his lip as if he was about to laugh.

  She cleared her throat. “But riding horses and being on the road with two children became difficult, so we moved to live with your grandmother. Now, Pablo’s troupe is touring around here, and he has … stopped by.”

  Was she blushing?

  The man stood and bowed, with a flourish of his hand, twirling his fingertips. “Pablo is my stage name. Pablo Fanque.” He smirked, though his quirked lip was aimed more towards my mother than us. “Fancier than William, eh?”

  What foreign-sounding name was this? I had heard of the famous circuses of the day, such as Banister and West’s, but had never heard of Pablo Fanque.

  “Is Pablo a real name?” I muttered.

  Mother’s cheeks reddened and she gave a look that told me I would be admonished once our guest had left.

  “As real as Edward and George!” He roared with laughter, revealing his teeth.

  “Are you married?” I blurted, unable to stop myself.

  Mother’s eyes went wide, and her hand flew to her mouth. If I was already in trouble, I may as well continue. I glanced at George – was he going to speak up? No, he just stared at the flagstones as if they held secrets he desperately wanted to discover.

  Will
iam – for I was not about to think of him as Pablo! – roared his deep laugh again. “We are indeed.”

  Was laughing like a clown all this man did? I failed to see what was so amusing.

  “Edward!” my mother said. “Don’t be impertinent. The day your father has come to visit is very special. It’s a day we should celebrate.” Mother beamed at William, but she looked a little as if she might cry.

  “You have met Pablo before, Ted. Do you not remember? You were very small. Perhaps three or four?” She sniffed.

  I frowned. I had no memory of ever seeing this man. I sneaked another glance at George. There was no recognition on his face either. No doubt we were thinking the same thought: if meeting him was so special, then why had he left us in the first place?

  He was clearly much older than Mother too; he looked more grandfather than father.

  I narrowed my eyes, deciding not to trust him. A man so old who had lured my mother away from her family to ride horses? What respectable gentleman would behave in such a manner?

  William dug deep into his waistcoat pocket. “Here.” He brought out a small paper bag. “For you boys.”

  I took the bag and peered inside. “George!” I held it out to him. He poked his nose inside and sniffed but stayed silent. With his cough, it hurt him to speak much. Poor George. Even though he was the elder, I usually spoke for both of us.

  “What are these?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.

  “Sweets,” William said. “These ones are called … ‘unclaimed babies’, I believe.” He chuckled.

  What a grim name. Was he teasing us? I picked one out and rolled the soft, powder-dusted figure between my fingers, before tentatively putting it into my mouth. George did the same. As we chewed through the sweetness, William watched us, smiling and smiling. He put his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets and leaned back.

  Did he think we were won over so easily?

  How dare he go off on circus adventures, leaving us to struggle? We could barely afford coal. The fact that we were mixed race with no man around the house to defend Mother’s honour set the neighbours’ tongues wagging enough as it was! Poor Mother worked herself to exhaustion taking in laundry and mending to support us and now that he was here, were we supposed to be overjoyed? Did he expect a fanfare?

  Perhaps he was my father in name, but I had no need of this man in my life. I’d done fine up until now. George and I knew our friends’ fathers and didn’t think much of them, working in the mill or steel works but then spending their free time stumbling around from inn to inn, ordering everyone around, or, worse still, whipping them.

  Mother said quietly, “Edward, as you know, we’ve discussed finding you a new apprenticeship. Since none is forthcoming, it has been decided that you are to accompany your father and learn the ways of the circus. George will remain with me until he grows strong enough to join you.”

  I coughed, nearly choking on my sweet. She was sending me away with this stranger? Father or not, she had not mentioned this possibility before. Although I hadn’t attended night school in many months, I studied when I could. I wanted to better myself and was certain I’d find an apprenticeship soon. But was I expected to abandon my books and hopes simply to attend to this man?

  George gave me a small smile, but his eyes looked sad.

  I started breathing hard, remembering my only visit to the circus. I never wanted to experience it again. That hot July night at Aston Park had given me nightmares for months. George hadn’t witnessed the woman fall to her death from the tightrope, but I had. After all the panic and screaming, I’d begged Mother that we never return. Although she seemed dismayed, she’d kept her word.

  Until now.

  I had to let this man know that I was no performer. “There’s nothing I can do,” I said archly.

  William’s voice boomed. “The horses, my boy. Riding horses will be in your blood. Both your mother and I have a talent for it. Trust me.”

  I’d rather not!

  “I can’t ride horses!” I cried.

  I hated horses! Every time those huge stinking beasts trotted too near to me in the streets, I shied away. We’d never owned one for they were expensive to keep, and for that I was glad.

  “You’ll be light on your feet. I look forward to seeing you and the horses getting to know one another.” William patted me on the shoulder. “You’ll learn. I’ve worked with the biggest names: Young Hernandez and Jem Mace. I learnt from the best, toured with the best, and now … well now, I am the best. I’ll teach you.”

  Modesty was clearly in short supply at his circus.

  “Are you ready then? To experience the adventure with me?” He sounded in good spirits.

  This very moment? Mother must have noticed my panicked expression because she put her arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.

  “Ted, let us gather your things.”

  She only called me Ted in her most caring moments. “George, fetch Pablo some gingerbread.” George bit his nails on his way to the kitchen.

  I followed Mother upstairs to the room we all shared. Once we were behind the door, I exclaimed, “I do not want to go with that man!”

  She didn’t flinch at my temper, just quietly collected an old cotton flour sack, my cap, two shirts and woollen trousers from the wooden drawers.

  “Those trousers are George’s.”

  “He’s too big for them now. You may have them.”

  Mother sat on my lumpy bed and straightened the worn blanket. Seeing her hands so red and raw made me sad, but I still didn’t want George’s trousers! I didn’t want to go anywhere – I wanted to stay here.

  “In this life, there are many things we may not wish to do, and yet they must be done, all the same. Often, they reveal a life we’ve never seen. Do you understand, Ted? New experiences can be the making of us.”

  “I won’t go!” I stamped my foot. “I want to stay here. Who will help George?”

  “I will,” she answered. “Pablo has given me five pounds. Now I can buy George medicine. We can travel if we need to. It’ll be easier to travel around if I’ve only two of us to clothe and feed, Ted.”

  “W-will I see you again?” I stammered, staring at the floorboards. I couldn’t bear to look into her deep brown eyes, usually so kind and wise. “Perhaps I will be more prepared … after staying here one more night?” I asked, hopefully.

  She smiled, but I knew her mind was made up because she stood up, smoothed down her dress and patted her bun back into place.

  “I understand that this is a shock, Ted, and somewhat … unexpected. When you were younger, your father and I agreed it was best for him to pursue his livelihood in the circus rather than struggle to forge a living here. You’ll only be away a few months. Some things cannot be prepared for; they simply need to be experienced. Of course you’ll see me again.”

  As if remembering her own circus life, her expression became dreamy. “A spring season, learning the trade and travelling, will be just the thing. You’ll become strong and disciplined. Instead of burying your head in books, you will learn how to ride, tend the horses and earn your keep. And you will return to me a man.”

  Tenderly, she pressed the palm of her hand against my cheek. “I promise you, it will be a perfect adventure! My circus days were the happiest of my life. Now, if you’ve anything else you wish to take, best hurry along and pack it.”

  She kissed me on the forehead, sweeping out of the room with her skirts rustling.

  From under the bed I grabbed my kaleidoscope (my most treasured special thing), tin soldiers, marbles and my issues of Varney the Vampire. All these I stuffed into the cloth sack. But remembering how George still liked the soldiers, I took them out and set them up in rows atop the drawers. Seeing them lined up reminded me I was leaving, and I became furious again. Just because circus days had been the happiest days of her life did not mean they would be mine! I belonged here with my family.

  After a short time, I walked downstairs, my head and heart weighed do
wn by what lay ahead. I did not want to leave, but my future had already been determined.

  George was sat on the bottom step, twisting his cloth cap in his hands. I sat next to him, and I bumped his shoulder with mine. “I left the soldiers.”

  He looked sidelong at me. “You’re to go off with that circus fellow then?”

  George’s cough may not have been severe enough to keep him from being packed off to the circus with me, but being half-blind in one eye certainly was. Only I would be leaving today.

  He squinched up his eye, staring at the cap, now in his lap. “I shall miss you.”

  I put my arm around his shoulder. “I know.”

  “I’ll ask Mother when we can visit.”

  “I wish you could come with me. Brothers together.”

  George sighed. “He only wants one of us. You, Ted. And why wouldn’t he? You’re in working order.” He coughed hard, wincing. “Wish I was off to the circus.”

  He slowly walked up the stairs.

  I stared after him sadly, wishing I could think of something funny to say, but my mind was as empty as my heart.

  Clutching my cloth sack, I walked into the living room where William Darby, the circus owner, the father I had never met until today, was waiting to take me away.

  2.

  Once Pablo and I were out on the cold, now dark street, I asked, “Are we to get a carriage, Mr Darby?”

  He laughed. “Call me Pablo. Please.” He put on his top hat and disappeared around the corner. I followed him and his echoing laughs, my feet almost tripping over loose cobbles.

  A massive black horse was tied up outside a closed butcher’s shop. The beast had a thick glossy mane and its tail whipped back and forth. I shrank back; I liked to keep my distance from these creatures.

  Pablo flapped his overcoat out and leapt up on to its back so smoothly that I blinked, not sure I’d even seen him move.

  He extended his hand. “Come. We’ve a long ride to Raw Green.” He sat proud in the saddle, looking a foot taller than he had in our cramped living room.

  As I struggled, trying to get a hold on the horse, half-balancing on a broken wheelbarrow, he yanked me up, frowning. “You’ve not ridden?”