“Have you seen the elephants yet?” Jack asked, surprising me.
I shook my head, then jumped a little when he reached out and took my hand. His was big and warm, and I luxuriated in the feeling of his skin on mine, even in such a small way. I tried not to think of what he had just been doing with Julie. I wanted to live in a bubble of denial for a while. He led me to the far side of the campsite, where there was a large grassy field. This was my first experience of feeling not quite right about the way the circus used animals for entertainment. Yes, they were out in the open, the sun was shining, and there were huge pails of water for them to drink from and troughs of cabbage for them to eat.
But technically they weren’t free, were they? I couldn’t stop staring at the locks around their ankles. They reminded me far too much of the emotional chains my mother had been placing around me my whole life. Similar to the elephants, I was fed, provided with shelter, but I wasn’t free. Jack saw me frowning and gave me a questioning look.
“They’re prisoners,” I said, suddenly realising that although they had seemed peaceful and beautiful to me as they slept, the lions were prisoners, too.
“Not prisoners,” Jack replied. “More like property.”
“It doesn’t feel right.”
“No. Very little in this world is right, Lille. All we can hope for is to make it less not right. See these elephants? They might be chained up, but at least they aren’t in a cage all the time. At least Jan and Ricky only do the basic sort of stunts that don’t require so much cruelty in the training.”
I let out a long breath. One of the elephants was drinking water through its trunk. I wasn’t one of those overly righteous people who waxed lyrical about how all animals should live in the wild. I’d never been to an anti-fur protest, nor had I ever given much thought to the cruelty of animal testing. Yet being here, being forced to see their captivity with my own two eyes, made my heart pound. And I was certain it was far from the worst kind of captivity that was out there. I guess it’s easy to ignore things when they’re hidden from your view.
Jack was watching me intently, perhaps trying to figure out what I was thinking. And really, I didn’t want to be thinking about the lives of these elephants anymore. I didn’t want to feel sad wondering whether or not they were happy, so I changed the subject.
“Your girlfriend is so beautiful,” I said gently. “I’m completely in awe of her and her sisters. They must have been training to become acrobats ever since they were little.”
His eyebrows moved closer together, creating a broody sort of expression on his face. “Julie,” I said, and he stayed silent, so I clarified, “The woman I just saw leaving your camper?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he replied simply.
Oh, so it was a temporary thing. I can’t say I didn’t feel a small measure of relief. I should have known, though, since Lola did say she only ever saw Jack with casual hook-ups.
“Sorry. My mistake. So, where are you from? Originally, I mean? Dublin?” Christ, I was getting nervous now, thus the sentence of many questions. Jack nodded a yes to Dublin but didn’t give me any details. I decided his moment of chattiness was over, so I sat on a rock and watched the elephants. It was an interesting visual when Jack picked a stalk from their feed and approached one of them. He was wearing a T-shirt that looked like the sleeves had been carelessly cut off, underneath a worn dark brown waistcoat, his tanned, muscular arms showing. He was tall enough that he could reach up and run a hand along the elephant’s large body. Then he held out the stalk for it to eat.
Wow. The sight of such a strong, vital man feeding a strong, vital animal was kind of arousing in strange way. Then he started to walk away.
I cupped my hands around my mouth and called after him, “Where are you going?”
He turned around and shrugged. “For a walk.”
I knew it wasn’t an invitation to join him, but I followed anyway. I wasn’t beyond forcing my friendship on Jack. He was mysterious and intriguing enough for me to step out of my comfort zone and be the aggressor. To me, some people feel like the lives they’ve lived are novels. With Jack, I wanted to get my hands on the book and feverishly work my way through the pages until I got to the end.
The direction we walked was away from the campsite, where there were fields upon fields that bled out into the distance. A countryside landscape. Silently, I walked side by side with Jack through the grass. The weather was warm and the ground dry, which kept my shoes from getting muddy.
I breathed in the fresh, summery air and felt peaceful. Then a fly landed on my shoulder, and I could have been imagining things, but I thought it might have bitten me through my thin T-shirt. I slid my hand under the fabric and scratched at my skin, soothing the itch. I remembered that this was the exact spot I’d planned on getting my tattoo. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about my tattoo!
Determination formulated. I would find a parlour in the city and have my tattoo done today. I’d tick an item off my list. There were no Shay Cosgroves here in Caen to deny me what I wanted. Nobody knew who I was, nor were they afraid of inviting my mother’s wrath. I only realised Jack had been watching me as we walked when his voice broke through the quiet.
“What are you smiling so happily about?”
I was still smiling when I answered. “I just thought of something fun to do today. Want to join me?”
I’m not sure why I asked him that. In all honesty, this was one thing I wasn’t sure I wanted Jack to be around for. It would be scary enough letting a stranger repeatedly stick a needle in me. I didn’t need the added tension of having Jack in the room with his broody eyebrows and intense black eyes, the mask on his face that constantly shrouded his thoughts.
He stopped walking and turned to face me, reaching over my head and plucking a leaf from an overhanging tree. His attention was almost unnerving when he looked at me closely and ran the leaf down the side of my face to my neck. It tickled, and something tightened in the pit of my stomach.
“Fun?”
“You’re acquainted with the idea, yes?” I said, closing my eyes for a second and doing my best not to stammer. He was just so close now, close enough to smell. Close enough to feel his potent energy.
He tilted his head to the side. “Are you poking fun at me, Lille, insinuating I don’t know how to have fun?”
“Well,” I continued bravely, “generally, people who frown as often as you do don’t have a lot of it.”
“Shall I show you how I have it?” he asked, and stepped closer so that my chest was brushing off his. I wasn’t a short person, but Jack McCabe had a presence, a presence that could make someone feel positively tiny. I sidestepped away from him, putting some distance between us, and began walking again, practically tripping over my own feet. I could tell he was just behind me, following.
“I’m not in such dire straits that I need to be taught how to have fun by frowning Jack McCabe,” I said, trying for casual. “But if I ever run out of other options, I’ll give you a call. Like, say, if Angela Merkel isn’t available, you’ll be next on my list.”
I was pushing my luck now, and I knew it. I really didn’t know what had gotten into me, but I was in a teasing mood. There was a beat of silence, and then I heard him chuckle. It was scary to know how much his reaction relieved me. You just never quite knew with this guy which way he’d react, and there was still that lingering doubt in the back of my mind. The story of Vera and the fact that Jack could have been the one who killed her was unnerving. Ever since Lola told me the story, I’d been trying to convince myself it wasn’t anyone from the circus. That the murderer being a stranger from a nearby town was much more plausible.
It was the only thing that allowed me to sleep at night and embrace this adventure of mine.
“I’m confused — do you want me to come with you or not?” Jack said. “I still don’t know what it is you have planned. So, you know, feel free to enlighten me any time.”
I looked back at him
then. He was still holding the leaf, and he winked. My heart thudded. A wink from Jack McCabe. This morning was turning out to be one for the diary. If I had a diary, which I didn’t. I did, however, have a sketchpad, and I had a feeling I’d be sketching elephants and leaves and winking black eyes for many nights to come.
It was like masturbation for artists: draw the thing that turns you on.
Not that elephants turned me on….or leaves, for that matter.
“I’m going to get my first tattoo,” I told him finally, and he let out a little snicker.
“Is this an attempt to defy Mother, Lille dear?” he asked, and I didn’t like the touch of mockery in his tone.
“No, actually. I’ve been planning it for a long time. And I’ve just decided I don’t want you there.”
“Oh, no, but I want to come now,” he said flatly. Was that sarcasm?
I stopped and turned to face him. I didn’t think he was expecting it, because he faltered a little before halting. “Do you know what, Jack? You don’t always have to judge people just because they might have had it easier than you. We’re all struggling in our own way.”
“Lille….” he began, but I didn’t allow him to finish. Instead, I brushed past him and strode off, arms folded across my chest. It was obvious that he thought I was some pampered little brat out to slum it with the carnie folk. He probably even thought I looked down on the people who worked in the circus, and he couldn’t have been farther from the truth. I envied them, respected them.
When I got back to the camper, Violet was cooking breakfast, and Lola was blow-drying her hair with the tiniest travel hair dryer I’d ever seen. I sat down on a chair and waited for her to shut it off, then asked, “Do either of you want to come into the city with me today?”
Violet shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t. I have to practice for tonight’s show.”
Lola nodded enthusiastically. “I’m in. What are we doing?”
I smiled and answered, “I’m getting a tattoo.”
Lola clapped her hands together in excitement, and I went to find my hot air balloon drawing. Soon enough, we’d eaten and were on our way into town, walking along the roadside. Cars passed us by, one or two honking at us. I wasn’t sure if they were “get out of the way” honks or “hello, ladies” honks, but it pleased me to believe they were the latter. Then I heard someone call out from behind and turned to see Jack running towards us, waving his hand in the air for us to wait for him.
Five
A tattoo Lille got but Jack did not
“What the hell….” said Lola in confusion. I took this to mean that Jack wasn’t normally the kind of man who chased after people. It was more likely that they chased after him…or ran away from him in fear, my brain provided.
“I think he wants to come with us,” I replied in puzzlement, perhaps even more confused than Lola.
When Jack finally reached us, he bent over for a second to catch his breath before drawing himself upright. “You left without me.” Oh, wow, the way he was looking at me hit me right in the chest, like thump. He was just so striking physically that any extremes of emotion in him were quite…arresting.
“I thought you made it clear you didn’t want to come.”
One eyebrow went up as he shook his head. “I never said that.”
We stared at each other for several seconds, almost in challenge, before Lola interrupted with a laugh that seemed to hold secret knowledge. “Okay, you two. Let’s start walking, or you’ll be having that staring contest all day.”
Jack was still looking at me when I fumblingly turned on my heel and followed Lola. Strangely, all the way into town he walked behind us rather than beside us. Lola and I chatted away, and the only sign of participation from Jack was the odd grunt or low chuckle. I really didn’t understand why he was insisting on coming with us, because he’d seemed so sardonic about the whole idea earlier.
As we searched for a tattoo parlour, we came by a little curiosity shop selling all kinds of pretty ornaments and trinkets. Lola and I stood by the window, admiring the display. Just behind a big purple vase I spotted a small object and gasped, taking it as a sign. It was a little hot air balloon forged in copper. I pulled out my drawing and unfolded the paper.
“It looks just like my tattoo design. See?” I said, holding the picture out for Lola, aware of Jack looking just over my shoulder.
“Okay, that’s spooky. I officially have goose bumps. Go ahead, feel my skin,” Lola declared, and held her arm out to me. I obliged her by running my hand over it, and it was true, she did have them. I craned my neck to try to make out the price tag on the ornament. There on the little old-fashioned handwritten price tag it read seventy euros, which was way too pricey, considering I currently had less than four hundred to my name, and I was responsible for supporting myself for the entire summer. It must have been an antique.
“Yeah. I’d buy it, only it’s way too expensive. Maybe if I make enough money before the week is through I’ll come back for it.” I sighed wistfully.
“Sounds like a plan,” said Lola before linking her arm through mine and leading me away from the shop window. I turned a little to see Jack still standing there, staring at the ornament. Or maybe there was something else in the display that had caught his eye. A moment later he began following us again.
It took another twenty minutes to find a tattoo parlour, where a French girl with a septum piercing and an undercut told me in broken English that she could do the tattoo, but I needed to have something to eat first. We left her to practice sketching my hot air balloon and went in search of food.
I was delighted when we came across a crepe stand that also sold waffles covered in chocolate syrup – so obviously I went for the waffles. It also surprised me when Jack ate with us, because it felt like he was there to perform some sort of strange guard duties rather than to actually spend time with us. I think his silence put Lola on edge a bit, because at one point she leaned close to me and whispered, “This is…weird.”
I only nodded, not saying anything because I thought Jack had heard her, and in a strange way I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I made eye contact with him for a second, trying to convey that I really didn’t think it was weird. In fact, there was something both soothing and exciting about his presence. He possessed a stoic sort of strength I felt like I could somehow siphon off for myself. I definitely needed some of his bravery if I was going to go through with the tattoo.
I was happily full of waffles and chocolate syrup by the time we arrived back at the parlour. When we reached the door, Lola went in ahead of me, but Jack cut me off when he put an arm out to stop me.
I turned to see what he wanted and gasped when he lifted his thumb up and dragged it over the corner of my mouth. His lips curved at the edges.
“You had some chocolate there,” he explained.
I arched a brow. “You could have just told me, and I’d have gotten it myself.” His touch had thrown me off kilter, and I think he knew the effect he had on me, which was why I was getting snippy. It was like he enjoyed the tease, knowing it was never going to lead anywhere. Kind of like the way a cat might toy with a mouse.
He had both hands braced on either side of the doorframe now, penning me in. Bravely, I made eye contact with him, holding my head high.
Out here in the bright light of day, his eyes looked the colour of whiskey. They weren’t really black at all. They softened, went all “bedroomy,” but you know, I didn’t think he realised just how bedroomy his eyes went at times. I think I might have even seen him giving Marina bedroom eyes the other day. So yeah, he definitely didn’t know. It must have been one of his default settings.
“And where’s the fun in that?” he asked, teasingly. Okay, maybe he did know about his bedroom eyes…which only made the Marina thing all the more unsettling. Did he use them on every woman?
“Are you playing with me?” I asked outright. I didn’t want to fall victim to the games of his strange and unexpected flirti
ng. I wanted him to know I was onto him. Because, you know, I was such a cool and experienced woman, and I didn’t take any shit.
If only.
He feigned a small look of shock. “Me? Never?” His gaze trailed to my lips then, and I recognised a definite expression of interest.
“Stop it,” I said.
“Stop what?”
“Stop…what you’re doing,” I sputtered. “We don’t have time for this, and I – I have a tattoo to get.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked before placing a hand on my shoulder and running it down my arm. “Are you sure you want to mark this untouched skin?”
“It’s just skin,” I answered, shivering, and then winced, remembering his burn scars. Perhaps he couldn’t understand why someone would choose to mark themselves in this way. Ridiculously, I felt like apologising to him. It was actually surprising when I noted that he didn’t have any tattoos himself, because he looked like the kind of person who would have them.
“Skin is important, Lille. Some marks last forever. You have to decide if they’re worth it.”
My eyes flickered back and forth between his, somehow feeling like he wasn’t talking about tattoos anymore. I swallowed, mustering determination, and stepped backward, pushing the door open with my bottom and escaping his unnerving closeness.
“I believe this is worth it,” I said to him with conviction, then turned to greet the tattoo artist. The parlour had an open-plan layout, which meant you were sitting right there for all to see, rather than in a private room. I thought that maybe they only went to the back room to tattoo bottoms, or penises, or something. I didn’t even have a penis, and I still grimaced at the idea of having one inked.
Ouch.
Lola sat on a couch, casually flicking through folders of artwork, but Jack didn’t sit. Instead, he stood by the wall, folded his arms, and watched me. Great. Like this wasn’t going to be nerve-wracking enough already.