The Hearts Series

  I picked it up and brought it to my ear, answering, “Hello?”

  “Lille! Where on earth have you been? I’ve been driving myself mad with worry.”

  “Didn’t you get my letter?”

  “Oh, I got it all right. I swear, you’re trying to put me in an early grave! I mean, a circus of all things. If you wanted to travel, I would have paid for you to go euro railing. Have you any idea the kind of people who work in circuses? And it’s not even a chain, it’s a flipping independent one, run by some eccentric hippy woman. Bernie from the office told me there was a rape in that circus a couple of years back. A rape, Lillian!”

  I’d only been on the phone to her for thirty seconds, and already I could feel my throat constricting, my lungs filling with anxiety. This was the effect she had on me. I tried to summon some composure. “It was actually a murder rape, and yes, I know about it. But it was years ago, and everyone’s been perfectly nice,” I said, almost telling the truth. King certainly hadn’t been nice to me, but he was drunk at the time. I was still trying to figure out what Jack was.

  “That’s even worse! You need to come home right this minute. Where are you exactly? I’ll arrange a flight for you at the nearest airport.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her I was in Caen, but I stopped myself just in time. There was no way in hell I was getting on a flight home, and if I told her where I was, I wouldn’t put it past her to come looking for me. Or worse, pay some sort of professional intervention people to do it for her. My mother was a strange lady, and you never knew the lengths she’d go to.

  “I’m not telling you where I am,” I said, trying to sound as calm and steady as I could.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said I’m not telling you, Mum. I’m not a child, and you can’t dictate my life anymore.”

  “Fine, I’ll just have the GPS tracker activated on your phone,” she replied, like it was perfectly normal.

  My voice raised an unnatural number of octaves. “What?”

  “You heard what I said, Lillian.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “I’m your mother, and I care about you. If that’s insane, then yes, I’ll accept the title,” she replied smoothly.

  My pulse ratcheted up a notch as I stood from the bed, hurrying from the room with my phone in my hand. I could still hear Mum complaining down the line as I ran to a quiet spot just outside the campsite and smashed my extremely expensive smart phone into the gravel. The screen cracked, but it wasn’t good enough. I began stomping on it until it was broken to pieces. There was no way she could track me now. The thing was practically pulverised, but I still kept going. The more broken it got, the more relieved I felt that Mum wouldn’t be able to find me. My chest was moving frantically up and down when I finally stopped, trying to catch my breath, my hands on my hips. My heart stopped when someone started to speak.

  “Should I call the nearest madhouse? Because that was the craziest shit I’ve seen in a long time.”

  It was Jack. Of course it was.

  Four

  And Lille’s heart surely did falter

  He was standing several feet away, an amused smirk on his face as he brought a bottle of water to his mouth and drank. I stomped towards him, grabbed the water from his grip, and returned to the phone, spilling the contents all over the cracked pieces. I felt relatively sure Mum wouldn’t be doing any GPS tracking now.

  “Did you just steal my water?” Jack asked, blinking at me.

  “Yes, but it was for a good cause,” I replied.

  “So what happened? Did the phone call you a bitch or something? Sleep with your boyfriend? Murder your grandmother?”

  I couldn’t help it — I laughed. There was something hilarious about his completely humourless tone, plus, I was slightly manic.

  “No, actually. My mother was going to try to track my location on it.”

  “Is your mother James Bond? And what, you couldn’t just take out the battery and the SIM?”

  “I wasn’t sure if that’s all it takes.”

  Jack shrugged and studied me for a long moment. I felt exposed under his watchful gaze, and I didn’t like it. I wasn’t sure if he was going to say anything at all. Then he finally spoke. “Why don’t you want her to find you?”

  I sighed and walked over to the kerb before sitting down. Jack caught me off guard when he came and sat down next to me, awaiting my answer. There was something very obedient and dog-like about the gesture, which suddenly opened my eyes to another side of him. On the surface he was dark, dangerous, and deeply masculine. But right now, I could see a flicker of an intrigued little boy.

  “Because she’s crazy and controlling, and the whole reason I took Marina up on her offer to come here was because I wanted to get away from my mother. No, not wanted, needed. Living with her was suffocating me.”

  He seemed interested as he nodded his head and kept on staring. I didn’t understand why I was telling him any of this. Jack McCabe wasn’t confidant material. I didn’t even think he was friend material, and there was a small likelihood that he was dangerous. Still, I kept on talking.

  “She’s the CEO for a very successful tech company. I guess the control she has in her job translates over to her dealings with me, because she dictates my entire life. Tells me what I can and can’t eat, what I can and can’t wear. When I get paid at the end of each week from my waitressing job, she takes eighty percent of the money and leaves me with just enough to get by. If I refuse to give it to her, she threatens to kick me out, and I have nowhere else to go, so I have to follow her crazy rules.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “He left when I was a kid. Perhaps he decided to flee just like I did. I haven’t heard from him in years.”

  Jack didn’t comment. I might have been mistaken, but I thought I saw a flicker of empathy in his expression. It was either that or bemusement. There was a quiet between us that suddenly felt awkward, so I dusted my hands off on my jeans and stood.

  “Well, I, uh, have to go finish off Marina’s accounts now. Wouldn’t want anyone thinking I’m dead weight around here,” I said before I could censor myself, and winced.

  Jack’s expression didn’t waver. It rarely did, which meant I never quite knew what he was thinking. It was incredibly frustrating. He remained sitting there the whole time I walked away.

  Later that day, after I’d borrowed a folding table and two chairs from Winnie and Antonio, I went and set up a face-painting station close to the entrance to the circus. It was a good job I’d studied French at school, because I had decent enough conversational skills in the language to get by. Mostly I just had to ask the kids what they wanted to be. I charged five euros per child and managed to paint ten faces by the time the show began. If I could do the same before every performance, I’d make enough money to see me through the summer.

  Jack strode by at one point as I was painting butterfly wings onto the cheeks of a little red-haired girl. He paused, tilted his head to see what I was painting, then continued on his way. It was disconcerting that I got chills every time I saw him. He had this aura, though, like you couldn’t tell if he was human or a supernatural being wearing human skin.

  Inspiration hit me, and I hurriedly pulled my sketch pad out of my bag, scribbling down ideas. I’d have to keep this piece a secret, of course, because if Jack found out I wanted to paint him, I imagine he’d frown so hard he’d break his own face. This picture would be darker than my usual works. Normally, I drew hearts floating out of bodies as two lovers embraced, or raindrops falling into puddles reflecting a woman carrying a brightly coloured umbrella. This picture would show Jack onstage inside the Spiegeltent, dexterously weaving his flames through the air, his tanned skin glistening, as a fire demon that was possessing his body could be glimpsed through the flames.

  I had goose bumps all along my arms just imagining it.

  The show had been on for about an hour when I slipped inside the tent. The Ladies of the S
ky were just finishing up their act, and again I felt a pang of jealousy at how beautifully they could control their bodies. I’d seen all three earlier today, stretching outside their camper. Lola had told me that they were all sisters, with only one or two years between each of them. Their names were Mary, Julie, and Molly and they came from America. I’d wanted to go over and introduce myself, befriend them, but I didn’t have the courage. Perhaps another day I’d muster it up.

  Their act came to an end, and then Jack was emerging in all his fiery glory. Knocking back a mouthful of fuel, he proceeded to blow an explosive blast of fire from his mouth. I wondered what the chances were of him hurting himself, and if there was any long-term damage caused to his body. Surely putting combustible fluids into your mouth meant you inevitably ingested a small amount over time.

  I had so many questions that I wanted to ask him, and if he were anyone else I would, but when it came to Jack McCabe, I found my brain forgetting all those questions in his strange and heady presence. I’d like to say I went away then, back to my camper for the night, but I didn’t. I couldn’t stop watching until his entire act was over. He did the same knife-throwing bit as before, with Marina selecting a volunteer from the audience. I watched keenly, studying his every move, as he interacted with the woman who’d been selected. I was one-hundred-percent sure I didn’t see him place his hands on her shoulders like he did to me, nor did he touch her stomach to calm her or hold her hand as he led her to the wooden panel.

  Something fizzy and delightful popped in my belly. Perhaps there had been something different about our encounter, compared to the countless other nights he performed the exact same stunt. Perhaps Jack wasn’t as indifferent towards me as I imagined. I delighted in the sense of excitement these thoughts gave me as I went about packing up my face paints and returning the table and chairs to Winnie and Antonio. They told me to keep them, that I’d be doing them a favour, since they had way too much stuff clogging up their small motor home as it was. I thanked them profusely and stored the table and chairs beneath Violet’s van until tomorrow, hoping nobody would steal them.

  I was sitting in the living area, finishing off the ideas for my Jack painting, when Lola came in looking both tired and energised. She had that way about her. I thought of painting a picture of her, too, with tired grey patches under her eyes and contrasting colourful bolts of electricity spouting from her bobbed haircut.

  “Hey, you! Everybody’s gathering in the gazebo tonight for a late dinner. Pedro and Luan are cooking feijoada. It’s a Brazilian stew. Absolutely delicious. Come on!” she said, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. My sketchpad fell to the floor and she picked it up, taking her time to peruse what I’d been drawing before handing it back, an amused smirk on her face.

  “Oh, you’ve got it bad.”

  “Got what bad?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

  “You’re too good of an artist for me not to recognise who you’re drawing, Lille. Just take my advice — be careful. I’ve never seen him with a woman, well, other than casual hook-ups every once in a while. You don’t want to get hurt.”

  Little did she know, I really did want to get hurt. It was irrational and probably stupid, but I wanted to feel the pain of having my emotions stomped all over. All of the best creative minds in the world had their hearts broken. It’s what made their art genuine, vital, human. It had the potential to elevate me from just a “good” artist into a great one.

  After closing my sketchpad and setting it on the counter, I allowed her to pull me out and lead me to the gazebo, which I was learning was a sort of eating/drinking/general hang-out area for the circus performers and crew. Luan, Pedro, and the third man in their stunt group, Raphael, were standing by a portable gas cooker, dishing out bowls of stew to those patiently waiting in line. Once Lola and I had gotten ours, she led me over sit on the floor with Winnie and Antonio’s eleven- and thirteen-year-old girls, Carrie and Orla.

  We chatted with them about their shared crushes on some boy-band star, while Lola braided their hair into identical French plaits. I felt like we were separate from the adults in that moment, but I didn’t mind. I enjoyed being able to observe the interactions from my place on the floor. Jack and King sat by a table in the far corner of the gazebo, a bottle of liquor between them. They appeared to be having a deep conversation, and it surprised me. Judging from the way Jack had spoken to King this morning, I wouldn’t have thought they were friends. But it was clear now that they were. Jack listened intently as King spoke, and vice versa. I could have killed to know what they were talking about.

  I had three glasses of wine with my stew and ended up feeling sleepy, so I went back to the camper and got into bed. It was only ten o’clock. I slept the whole night through and woke up at five-thirty feeling refreshed and ready to take on the day. It was a day for ticking an item off my list; I could just feel it. After I had a quick shower, this time thankfully within the confines of the van, I had tea and toast for breakfast. After that it was still only six-thirty, so I decided to stretch my legs. I walked twice around the campsite, stopping and admiring the lions in their cages for a time.

  They were both sleeping soundly, their purring a deep, melodic rumble that soothed something inside me. I knew that technically these animals were predators, but still, I thought I could fall asleep every night to the peaceful sound of their purring. Their paws were huge and fluffy up close. It was at once frightening and totally adorable. Such beautiful creatures. You could tell they were well taken care of. Not like the lions you saw at the zoo or at one of those chain circuses that looked skinny and malnourished. Winnie and Antonio’s lions were clearly very much loved.

  I continued my walk. I was just passing by Jack’s camper when I stopped mid-stride and hid behind a tree. The door opened, and somebody stepped out. I peeked around the tree to see it was Julie, one of the Ladies of the Sky. Her red hair was messy and her makeup smudged. My gut sank. It was clear that she’d spent the night. And it was even clearer when Jack came out behind her. He stood still as she turned back to him, reaching up and sliding an arm around his neck. She murmured something in his ear, gave him a light kiss on the lips, then sauntered away. My heart was thumping loudly now as it simultaneously sank to the bottom of my boots. It became very obvious to me that I was harbouring a crush on Jack, which was why seeing him with Julie was so disappointing. I bet if someone somewhere did a study on crushes, they’d find that a dishearteningly large proportion of them were unrequited.

  I willed him to go back inside so that I could scurry away undiscovered, but he didn’t. Instead, he sat down on the deck chair outside his camper and began rolling a cigarette. Just my luck.

  I was standing glued to the spot, eyes closed, breathing shallowly and waiting him out, when I heard him call, “I can hear you, you know.”

  My eyes snapped open, but I remained frozen. Did he know it was me hiding here, or did he just think it was a person, any person? I didn’t want to show myself, but there was nothing else for it. He knew someone was here, and he was going to discover it was me sooner or later. Sighing, I came out from behind the tree, and his gaze seemed to sharpen when he saw me.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I was taking a walk when…God, this is ridiculous. I don’t even know why I was hiding. I just didn’t want to….”

  Jack stood and walked towards me, lighting up and taking a drag of his smoke. If I was any other person, I’d probably advise him to quit, tell him it wasn’t good for his health. But I wasn’t. I didn’t nag people about their personal choices. That was my mother. I didn’t want to share any characteristics with her. Still, I worried for Jack. Worried about his lungs. Worried about what the fuel he used in his act was doing to his insides.

  “You just didn’t want to what, Lille?” he asked. His mouth was a straight line, but there was some kind of amusement dancing in his eyes.

  My belly did somersaults when he spoke my name. “I didn’t want you to think I was spying.”

  One eyebr
ow went up. “You didn’t want me to think you were spying…by spying on me?”

  “I wasn’t! I was just waiting for you to go back inside, that’s all.”

  He blew out smoke, looked at the ground. His shoulder-length hair was down, and a few strands fell forward, shielding his face. When he looked up at me, he was so beautiful I almost couldn’t breathe for a second. “You’re a strange girl.”

  “And you’re a strange boy,” I replied.

  One side of his mouth went up, and my palms got a little clammy to have him almost smile at me again. I got the feeling that Jack McCabe didn’t almost smile very often.

  “Boy,” he repeated, a statement, not a question.

  There wasn’t much that was boy-like about him, but I liked how me calling him one seemed to rile him up some. I simply looked at him, not knowing how to reply.

  “So, what brings you out here so early this morning? Taking another shower?” he asked, his gaze growing softer as he reached out and took a strand of my dark blonde hair in his fingers. “Damp,” he said, voice low.

  “No, I woke up early, decided to explore the campsite. The lions are just beautiful.”

  Jack nodded. “Pip and Skip.”

  “Huh?”

  He took another drag. “The lions. Those are their names.”

  “Oh, right!” I laughed nervously. “Pip, like in Great Expectations. Do you think Winnie and Antonio named him after the character? It’s my favourite Dickens book.”

  “I don’t know,” he said, withdrawing a little then. There was a moment of silence, during which I struggled with whether or not to go or stay. Yes, I wanted something to happen between Jack and me, however unlikely it was. The problem was that whenever I was around him, I got all antsy, like I was experiencing fight-or-flight syndrome and my brain wanted me to flee even though my body begged me to stay.