‘Circus folk are supposed to look young and strong and spry, whatever kind of artiste they are,’ said Tag.
‘That’s not true,’ I said. ‘Look at Mr Marvel. He’s really, really old. It doesn’t matter a jot.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that,’ said Tag. ‘And I’d worry about your precious Madame Adeline – she’s so long in the tooth she’s been performing since Tanglefield’s pa was in charge. I reckon she’s for the chop.’
‘I’ll chop you!’ I said, clenching my fists together and hitting him on the head.
I was so angry and struck Tag so hard, he actually ran away from me, which made Marvo and Julip laugh.
THERE WAS NO laughing when the new folk arrived that afternoon. The whole company gathered silently, strained and tense. A blue and yellow wagon arrived first, the horse driven by a spry-looking man in his twenties.
‘Do you think he’s an acrobat?’ asked Julip.
‘No, he hasn’t got the right physique,’ said Marvo.
‘He looks like a real showman. Maybe he’s a new ringmaster!’ said Mister, nodding his head at Hetty.
‘Perhaps he’s a clown,’ she retorted.
‘I doubt it – he’s much too young,’ said Marvo. He was meaning to be comforting, but Beppo quivered.
‘Perhaps he’s a trainer,’ said Tag. ‘He’ll have an animal act. That horse pulling the wagon looks in good condition. Maybe he’s an equestrian.’
Hetty and I both held our breath, though the horse was old and took a long time to pull the wagon neatly into place.
‘That man’s no horse-trainer. He can’t even control that old nag,’ said Mr Marvel. ‘Besides, there’s only one wagon. His animals won’t tuck up in his bed at night, will they?’
Oh, poor dear Mr Marvel! When the man had unharnessed his horse and waved airily to the watching crowd, he opened the door of his wagon and two dark heads peeped out.
‘Allow me to present Miss Daffodil and Mr Cornflower,’ the man shouted.
Two strange, chunky creatures came ambling out, clapping their hands. At first glance I thought they were very swarthy, stocky children, for Daffodil wore a bright yellow frilled frock with matching stockings and black patent boots, while Cornflower sported a little blue sailor suit and wore a jaunty cap with an embroidered anchor on his head. But then I blinked and realized they were enormous monkeys, giant versions of Mr Marvel’s tiny, spindly babies.
‘Chimpanzees,’ Mr Marvel whispered, and his face crumpled.
‘They are very ugly and cumbersome – nowhere near as nice as our monkeys, Mr Marvel,’ I said, taking hold of his hand. ‘And I’m sure they can’t perform such clever tricks.’
But the new man said loudly, ‘Run and introduce yourselves to all these nice new folks, Daffodil and Cornflower.’
Daffodil held out her frilly yellow skirts and bobbed the most comical of curtsies, while Cornflower took off his sailor cap and bowed low. Then they hopped and skipped about the crowd on all fours, but stood up straight and offered a paw to anyone who took their fancy.
Daffodil offered her paw to me. I worried about hurting Mr Marvel’s feelings, but I couldn’t help grasping the strange big brown paw. Daffodil chattered happily in her own language, clearly saying she was pleased to be acquainted. She was equally polite to everyone.
Cornflower was far cheekier. He held out his hand, but always snatched it away before anyone could take hold of it, and then he cheeped with laughter, smacking his lips. He took especial liberties with Mr Tanglefield, running up to him and then punching him lightly in the stomach.
Mr Tanglefield was a slight man, but he had a pronounced pot belly. It was rumoured that he had to wear a tight corset to fit decently into his riding breeches. He was very self-conscious about his figure and struggled to hold his stomach in when he thought people were watching. It was therefore doubly comical for Cornflower to single out this part of his anatomy. We all spluttered, keeping our faces as straight as possible, because no one wanted to be seen openly laughing at Mr Tanglefield, particularly when he hadn’t confirmed who was to accompany him on the new tour, and who was to be left behind. But Mr Tanglefield himself burst out laughing, in a high-pitched, squeaky voice.
‘Very comical, Mr Benger. You have trained your monkeys well,’ he said.
‘Excuse me, sir, my two children are of the chimpanzee species, not commonplace little monkeys,’ said their trainer.
Mr Marvel winced. His eyes were watering and he looked every one of his eighty or ninety years, but he stood as straight as he could, and said with simple dignity, ‘I gather my services will therefore no longer be required, Mr Tanglefield.’
Everyone turned to Mr Tanglefield. He had the grace to look away uncomfortably.
‘I think we both know you’re a bit past it, Marvel. Beats me how you’ve kept going all these years. But I think it’s best to go now. Don’t look so down-hearted. I’ll make you an offer for those monkeys of yours. I dare say Benger can work them into his act. We’ll give you a tidy little sum – it’ll pay your rent for many months.’
Mr Marvel’s fists clenched. ‘You must be mad if you think I could ever sell my babies. I’d sooner sleep in the gutter so long as they could be there with me. But I won’t need to resort to such desperate measures, thank you very much. I have a very snug little cottage in the country that’s been waiting for me to occupy it for many a year. I’ll be off first thing in the morning.’
‘Oh, Mr Marvel!’ I said, and I threw myself upon him. ‘I can’t bear it! I shall miss you so.’
‘I will too, more than anything,’ Hetty declared. She looked at Mr Tanglefield, quivering with emotion. ‘How can you be so heartless? Why can’t Mr Marvel and his monkeys keep their act? You can have two monkey acts! That would surely be a great novelty?’
‘Great liability,’ said Mr Tanglefield. ‘We don’t want old dodderers as part of the show. It sounds brutal, but it’s business. Marvel’s been past it for years. He can’t even control his monkeys any more. Look at all the palaver when the little one escaped and held us all up for hours.’
‘That was my fault, not Mr Marvel’s!’ I cried.
‘Be silent, both of you!’ he shouted. ‘I don’t run this show as a charity and I don’t need shrill children to tell me how to do my work. All right, Marvel, I’ll sort out the wages you’ve got owing by tonight, with a bonus for your long-term engagement. Then you can leave in the morning when we do. Now, don’t just stand there, everyone. I’m sure you’ve got work to do.’
I hung onto Mr Marvel, starting to cry. He patted me gently on the head. He seemed very calm, but I could feel him trembling.
‘I’ll miss you so very much, Mr Marvel – and I’ll miss my Mavis too, and all the other monkeys.’
‘We’ll all miss you, little Diamond bright. But don’t grieve for me. I’ve had a long and happy life in the circus but I can’t deny I’m getting old. Now it really is time for me to go.’
It was heart-breaking – but this wasn’t the worst surprise on that dreadful day. Mr Tanglefield had insisted we leave a very large space beside his own wagon. We waited and waited to see who the newcomers were going to be. Then, just as folk were starting to cook their suppers, we heard the sound of a rumbling wagon and horses’ hooves.
It was a very grand wagon, at least twice the usual size, drawn by four beautiful horses – three chestnuts and one grey.
Madame Adeline’s head jerked and she stared at them, stricken.
‘It’s all right, Madame Adeline. I’m sure they’re just pulling the wagon,’ Hetty said hurriedly, though we could all see these were fine horses in the peak of condition.
We looked at the man holding the reins. He was tall and fit, and wore a strange broad-brimmed hat, a checked shirt, tightly cut trousers and astonishing studded boots.
‘He’s a cowboy!’ said Julip, in awe. ‘Like Wild Bill Hickok!’
‘An equestrian,’ said Madame Adeline, and closed her eyes.
‘But
he’s a man – folk would far rather see a beautiful spangled lady on a horse,’ said Hetty, putting an arm round her shoulders.
But then we saw the woman on another horse behind the big wagon. She was young and slim, with long blonde hair, wearing another broad-brimmed hat and a fantastic outfit – red with white fringing. She wore heeled red boots and rode a lovely chestnut mare with white socks, who trotted along with her head and tail up.
Hetty didn’t say anything at all. Madame Adeline opened her eyes and then put her hand to her throat. We watched in open-mouthed silence as the man manoeuvred the wagon into place and unharnessed the four horses, while the woman swung herself down and went to open the door of their wagon.
Mr Tanglefield came running out to greet them, nodding his head, shaking hands, circling them eagerly, clearly thrilled to be welcoming them into the company.
‘Dear Lord, he’s behaving like a regular Uriah Heap, fawning all over them and acting humble,’ said Hetty. ‘How ridiculous! Who cares about a silly cowboy act? And that woman’s showy scarlet boots aren’t a patch on mine!’
Madame Adeline smiled at her wanly. She’d grown very pale. She couldn’t take her eyes off the beautiful blonde woman. She watched as the door of the wagon was opened. There was a sudden wild howling, and three great black and tan creatures leaped out.
I remembered the fairy-story books. ‘Wolves!’ I cried, clutching Hetty.
‘No, I’m sure they’re dogs,’ she said, but she pushed me behind her protectively.
They were joined by a little black and white dog, who jumped about ecstatically, chasing his three big friends.
‘Behave!’ the blonde lady shouted. All four dogs stopped in their tracks and sat obediently on their haunches, noses quivering. She gave them all a pat and a titbit. The black and white dog tried getting up on his hind legs and making a little whiny noise, clearing begging for more.
‘Oh, I like the little one!’ I exclaimed.
The lady heard me and smiled. ‘This is Albie, our Brittany spaniel – he’s our special little clown,’ she said. ‘Say hello to the little girl, Albie.’
Albie came and barked at me winsomely, rubbing against my legs. I tickled him behind his ears. The other three dogs all came bounding up too, and I took a step backwards.
‘Don’t worry, they’re not wolves at all. They’re German shepherd dogs and they wouldn’t hurt a fly. This is our top dog, Sammy, though he’s getting a bit wobbly on his legs now. This is our girl, Honey – now, you can’t be frightened of her, she’s the smallest German shepherd you’ll ever see. Try stroking her ears and she’ll fall in love with you. And this one’s Joe – not the brightest of our boys, and he can’t jump too high now, but he’ll do anything for you if you offer him an orange for a big treat.’
‘Then I’ll be able to give him lots of treats!’ I said excitedly – but then Hetty pulled me away, giving me a little shake. The lady was so smiley and friendly, but I realized I couldn’t possibly like her or her animals if it meant Madame Adeline’s act was threatened.
Hetty was openly scowling at the newcomers, but Madame Adeline herself was bravely trying to smile.
‘That’s a beautiful mare,’ she whispered, nodding at the blonde lady’s chestnut horse.
‘Nowhere near as splendid as Midnight,’ said Hetty.
‘Darling, it’s pointless pretending,’ said Madame Adeline. ‘She’s lovely, the prettiest, liveliest creature. And her rider is very pretty too.’
‘You’re prettier, Madame Addie!’ I said.
‘Much, much prettier,’ added Hetty.
Madame Adeline put her arms round both of us. ‘You’re my dear sweet loyal girls,’ she said. ‘Oh dear goodness, I’m going to miss you so.’
‘Don’t say that! You’re not going to go! You’re the star of the show,’ said Hetty.
But at that very moment Mr Tanglefield cleared his throat, rubbed his hands together excitedly and announced, his voice squeakier than ever with excitement: ‘May I present the new stars of Tanglefield’s Travelling Circus, engaged at great expense, but worth every single penny. They’re fresh from their own Wild West Show at Earl’s Court – Cowboy Jonny and his lovely lady, Lucky Heather, together with their showstopping quality horses and their pack of prairie dogs . . . ta-daa!’
Cowboy Jonny took off his grand hat and waved it at the crowd. Lucky Heather swished her skirts and stood with her hands on her hips, her fingers resting on her pearl-studded gun holster.
The circus folk murmured and some clapped enthusiastically, though most glanced at poor dear Madame Adeline.
Mr Tanglefield was looking at her too. He cleared his throat. ‘Your services will no longer be required, Addie,’ he said, rocking backwards and forwards on his heels.
‘For shame!’ Hetty cried.
‘Madame Addie’s been part of the circus longer than anyone! She was the star act when I joined as a young girl,’ said Flora, pink with emotion.
‘Exactly,’ said Mr Tanglefield. ‘She’s been here too long. Her time is over now.’
‘Your own father employed her, Tanglefield. What would he say now?’ said Chino.
‘My father was a businessman. He understands that profit has to come before sentiment. Addie can’t pull the crowds any more – she’s an old woman,’ said Mr Tanglefield ungallantly.
‘How dare you insult her so publicly!’ Hetty shouted.
‘Hush, dear,’ said Madame Adeline. She peered around at the circus artistes. ‘Please do not trouble yourselves on my behalf. I know it’s time for me to go.’
Cowboy Jonny and Lucky Heather looked stricken. Lucky Heather walked over and put her hand gently on Madame Adeline’s arm. When you saw them together, it was clear that she was young enough to be Addie’s daughter – or even her grand-daughter.
‘I am so sorry, Madame. Jonny and I didn’t realize that our engagement would mean someone else’s dismissal,’ she said softly.
‘Perhaps . . . perhaps there might be some way we could combine acts?’ Jonny suggested.
‘That is very gracious of you, sir, but I’m afraid it isn’t practical,’ said Madame Adeline.
‘Yes it is!’ Hetty insisted.
‘Hush, child. No, Midnight and I are growing old and lame. Mr Tanglefield is quite right. I’m not needed here any more.’
‘But we need you!’ I cried.
‘That’s right! You can’t just leave us. And where will you go, anyway?’ asked Hetty.
‘I’ll manage perfectly, dears,’ said Madame Adeline, though she looked grey with worry.
‘But you don’t have your own little cottage like Mr Marvel,’ I wailed.
‘Perhaps you would do me the great honour of sharing it with me, Addie?’ said Mr Marvel, walking up to her.
She stared at him, clearly taken aback.
‘Of course, it’s not quite the sort of home you deserve. And in case you think I’m being presumptuous, I must make it clear that there are two bedrooms, and you can live as my esteemed lodger, just until you find a more suitable home of your own – though if you were able to return my affection, then it would make me the happiest man in the world if you’d consent to be my wife.’
‘Oh, Mr Marvel, how lovely of you!’ I said. I ran to hug him, but Hetty held me back.
‘Let Madame Adeline reply first!’ she hissed.
Madame Addie seemed unable to say anything at all. Her face had suddenly flooded pink and her eyes were filled with tears.
‘Oh dear, doesn’t she like Mr Marvel?’ I whispered. ‘She’s crying!’
‘I think she likes him well enough. Perhaps she’s crying because she’s very touched by his proposal,’ Hetty murmured.
Madame Adeline took hold of Mr Marvel’s hands. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much,’ she said, tears rolling down her cheeks.
‘There! Say you will actually marry him! Can Hetty and I be your bridesmaids? Oh, can we dress Mavis up as a little baby bridesmaid?’ I burbled. ‘And then can we come and live with yo
u and be your daughters?’
‘I’ve never heard such nonsense! You’re my daughter now!’ said Mister. ‘I paid good money for you and I have the certificate to prove it.’
‘And you and I have a contract of employment, Hetty Feather,’ added Mr Tanglefield.
‘We can tear up these silly contracts and certificates,’ Hetty muttered to me.
But Madame Adeline took hold of us and walked us over to her wagon.
‘You mustn’t protest too much, my darlings. You must stay here and continue your careers as artistes. You are both very talented and I’m very proud of you. I shall miss you terribly, but that can’t be helped. I don’t think I could take you both with me even if I thought it a good thing. I will have to depend on dear Mr Marvel. I doubt I have the ability now to earn my own keep, let alone the resources to feed and clothe two growing girls, much as I would love to.’ She was crying now as she spoke. ‘I’m not even sure I’ll be able to keep Midnight.’
‘Oh, Madame Addie, you have to keep Midnight. If you leave him here they might turn him into horsemeat!’ I said, horrified.
‘I joined the circus because of you, Madame Adeline,’ Hetty declared passionately. ‘I don’t want to stay without you!’
‘I’ve never wanted to stay!’ I said.
‘If I were younger, I’d take you with me, but I’m old now, much too old,’ said Madame Adeline. She took off her long red wig, and instantly she became a frail old lady, her own grey wispy hair flat and feathery, her scalp showing through in places, making her look extra vulnerable.
‘You’re still young to us,’ said Hetty, throwing her arms round her. ‘I can’t be separated from you now. You’re like a second mother to me – and I’ve already lost my first dear mama.’ She burst into tears, loud terrifying sobs that scared me terribly. She was my big brave bold Hetty and I couldn’t bear to see her crying like a baby.
‘I could try and be a third mother to you, Hetty,’ I said.