Circus Excite (11 page)

Backstage Sylvie rewarded her with a furious hug and an earnestly whispered ‘Bravo, girl', before she left to clean the make-up from her body and change costume. After the interval she was on again, this time on trapeze. Julia knew that as the new girl she was being broken in gently, only appearing in the temple act and the finale. For the moment, it was all the excitement she needed. She sat on a crate in the wings and allowed herself to relax, feeling the sweat dry on her skin and her heart rate return to normal.

She cracked open the beer Henri handed to her as a congratulatory drink. The cold fizz had a welcome, refreshing taste, and it could have been champagne as far as Julia was concerned. She'd made it. Her first
professional performance, with Robert, Joe and three hundred strangers watching closely. Just as it had the day before, the act had turned her on. Only this time, she'd had the howls of a full house to raise the temperature and keep her pushing herself to give the sexiest performance of her life. She could see now why Sylvie loved it so much. From her perch in the wings, Julia watched, as thrilled as the audience to see the daring and skill of her fellow performers.

Even if Robert was a strange sadistic control freak, she had to concede he knew how to put a show together. Every act revolved around a theme, involving massive set changes and elaborate costumes, each time drenching the stage in a new atmosphere and intense, lush surroundings. Robert himself was the thread that pulled the whole thing together, and Julia grudgingly admired his charisma as he played with the audience, whipping them up to fever pitch as he narrated. Around him, the performers worked so hard the sweat dripped from their bodies.

The act that followed the temple scene was based on acrobatics, a towering human pyramid growing gradually from centre stage. It was built of a solid wall of muscular guys standing on each other's shoulders, bodies oiled and glistening. Julia watched with a tinge of envy as Sarah ran past her, to somersault onstage before being caught and hauled hand-over-hand up the pyramid, passed between the men. She obviously enjoyed feeling their strong arms enwrap her and roll her towards the top, planting her feet on their bare chests and sliding slowly upwards. Robert walked round the pyramid, cracking a whip and shouting incitements to the men to hold firm. Julia admired the grace of the men as well as their physiques – although they must have been straining under phenomenal weight their faces remained utterly impassive, tense and stock-still,
proudly staring straight ahead. She craned her neck back to see Sarah reach the top of the pyramid, where she sat on the shoulders of the two men beneath her and stretched languorously, before suddenly flipping over, tumbling through the air and landing square on her feet.

Henri's knife throwing act blew Julia away. The lighting was strong and dramatic, catching the angular planes of Henri's face, throwing his silhouette into striking relief. Rachel, in a long red dress, was strung up on a six-foot square target, bound to the metal slats with black silk scarves at her ankles and wrists. In the dark pooled shadows around the stage motorbikes circled, the riders hooded and wearing fingerless leather gloves, revving the engines loudly. Everything was black and red – the scene reminded Julia of a modern vampire flick; Henri with a floor-length cape and high collar, strutting around with a cool unflappable demeanour. Dry ice filled the stage and drifted round his ankles as he opened his cloak to show a row of glittering knives tucked into the lining. Rachel twisted in her bonds, as if fearfully trying to escape, while Henri stood tall and erect, taking aim.

He threw the small thin-bladed knives with incredible precision. The silver shafts glinted cruelly as they sped through the air, slicing through the silk of Rachel's dress and falling to bury themselves in the stage. Henri's gaze never wavered. Julia watched, rapt, as he slowly cut Rachel's dress from her, slicing the fabric across her thigh to reveal her stocking-clad legs but never scratching her. As the bikes circled closer and closer to the target, Rachel was finally left hanging with just a few scraps of red silk covering her body. With the last four knives in Henri's hand and his eyes fixed on his target, the stage fell silent, the bikes' engines a low purr.

Then he threw the knives in rapid succession, their
blades flashing as they flew towards Rachel, hitting the four points where she was bound to the target, slicing instantly through the scarves. She dropped from the scaffold only to be caught, gracefully, by Joe on his monstrous black Ducati. From backstage, Julia watched closely as he held her curled against him with one arm, steering with the other. She wasn't jealous exactly, but the sight of Rachel's half-naked body lying across Joe's saddle raised her hackles. The bike circled the stage one more time, Rachel clutching Joe with a smug smile on her face as the audience whistled and shouted. Then Julia realised they were coming straight for her as Joe rode his bike towards the curtains to exit.

As they passed, Joe caught her eye and gave her a conspiratorial wink. She inhaled the mix of diesel fumes and sweat, and it gave her a delicious reminder of Joe's skin and their last encounter.

‘Oh, the ballerina!' Rachel shrieked, picking up on Joe's wink. ‘She's a little gauche for your tastes, Joe, surely?' Clinging onto Joe, Rachel gave Julia a catty smile.

‘Hi, Rachel,' Julia responded, as sickly-sweet as she could. ‘Great act. I just loved watching Henri throw knives at you.'

Rachel narrowed her eyes viciously. ‘And it was great to see Robert dragging you around. He's really got you hooked, hasn't he?' She slid off Joe's lap and came closer to Julia, putting an arm round her shoulders. Julia did her best not to recoil, unwillingly letting Rachel turn her towards Robert, who stood backstage preparing his next entrance. Rachel took hold of Julia's chin, forcing her to look.

‘That man, my dear, is one of the best ringmasters in Europe. He's put on shows for royalty. He's worked with the best performers, in the most extreme and exotic
shows ever staged. What the hell do you imagine you can offer him?'

Rachel let Julia go and walked off, her spike heels giving her a slight sway. Julia watched her go, angry yet fascinated by the power and force of the woman. Her body was long and sinewy; she moved with a controlled energy that expressed a darkly potent sexuality. The scraps of red silk clinging to her revealed a long complicated tattoo rising up her thigh, thorns and roses tangling across her skin. Julia noticed there was a black snake curled around the rose stem, a forked tongue flickering upwards towards Rachel's sex. A formidable enemy. As Rachel passed Robert she placed her hand on his stomach and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. Julia was quite aware she was marking him as her possession – it was a warning.

It was nearly 3 a.m. before the circus was finally finished. After the crowds had left, shuttled back to Brighton by the busload, the crew had a solid two hours of clear-up before they could relax. Julia was assigned to clean the seats, and found herself on her knees wiping up spilt beer in the small hours of the morning. Though exhausted, she knew she was still being given the soft jobs. As she mopped the red plastic seats, she listened to the noises of the stage guys clearing the arena and prepping for the next show. Their shouts echoed round the tent, and Julia found the empty tent's atmosphere strange after the lush, extravagant spectacle that had been the show. A slight mist of dry ice still clouded the air – it smelt like smoking bonfires, spent fireworks. The show had been an explosive success. The whistles, howls and stamping feet of the audience when the show finished had testified to their enjoyment, and Julia's ears were still ringing from the noise.

‘That'll do for tonight, Julia.'

She looked up to find Robert standing above her in shirt sleeves. His hair was damp with sweat, and he held two cans of beer in his hand.

‘A celebratory drink? Only you'll need to forgo the glass.' He offered Julia a can, looking at her with a wry smile. ‘You did well tonight. Time to relax.'

Julia stood and took the beer, dropping the cloth into the bucket with great relief.

‘I was starting to think no one in this circus ever relaxes.' She popped open the can and drank a long draught, aware that Robert was watching her movements. Buoyed by her successful performance, she swallowed and looked straight back at him.

‘So, how was your first show?' he asked.

‘Intense.' Julia nodded. ‘You've got some incredible performers here. Just a shame some of them seem to be arseholes.' She thought bitterly of Rachel.

‘You think so? I heard you'd been making friends already.' Julia caught the tease in his voice and fought to stop herself from blushing. Had Robert been told about her encounter with Joe?

‘Your people aren't what I would call welcoming,' Julia said defensively, and remembered Rachel's hissing, the hard stares of the roustabouts. She thought of Robert's game playing the night before and felt a mix of arousal and shame as she remembered how she'd lain, naked and exposed on his couch. After the rush of the show, her emotions were volatile and she felt like confronting Robert, letting him know she couldn't be so easily manipulated.

‘In fact, I'd call them twisted. There's not a sane person in here.' She controlled her voice with difficulty, trying not to let Robert see her agitation.

‘Nothing you can't handle, Julia. It's an intense environment, and not an easy way to live. I understand
that.' Robert was talking in a reasonable honeyed tone as though Julia were a teenager throwing a tantrum. She felt herself bristle.

‘You'll understand, with time, what it's all about.' Robert reached out to rub a smudge of paint from Julia's hairline and the tenderness of the gesture totally disarmed her. She was once again speechless in front of him, her body pulsing with adrenaline and her mind unsure of whether she wanted to fuck him or hit him.

‘It's been a long day. Why don't you unwind with the rest of the crew? They'll be having a drink after the clear-up. Good chance to get to know them better, now that the first show's over and everyone's more relaxed.'

He lifted his can of beer to toast her, before turning and walking back to the exit. As he left she suddenly felt herself go limp, the tension of the day overwhelming her and leaving her with a mild buzz of exhaustion. Half of her wanted to follow Robert and slip into his caravan, sneak into bed beside him and press her body against his. But she couldn't stand the thought of being rebuffed yet again, and instead walked listlessly towards the arena where the crew were stretching out on the crates and sitting on the edge of the stage. Julia slipped quietly into a seat aside from the chatting crowd, happy to watch from the sidelines for the moment.

The circus folk turned up gradually, dropping into seats and greeting each other with playful claps on the shoulder or kisses. Julia looked around. For the first time, everyone seemed relaxed. A warm glow was cast over the stage by the remaining house lights, bathing everyone in soft amber light. Sylvie sat cross-legged onstage, chatting with one of the trapeze girls. Half of the performers were still in costume, with T-shirts thrown on over the top and make-up half removed. Laughter rang out in the high vaulted space of the tent and Julia felt a
pleasant buzz from the beer as she slouched in her seat. Feeling a little left out, she noticed Henri sitting by himself, staring vacantly at the floor between his feet. Julia approached him tentatively.

‘That was amazing, Henri. Really close to the edge with the knives.'

Henri looked up and smiled a little sadly, nodding. He had a soulful quality to his eyes Julia hadn't noticed before, a kind of softness to the pale blue irises that was almost hypnotic. When he smiled, Julia saw the razor sharpness of his cheekbones soften, and a playful expression dance over his face.

‘To be honest, I wouldn't have been all that unhappy if your hand had slipped,' Julia admitted, feeling somehow that she could spill her secrets to Henri without fear of him betraying her. He laughed, the sound surprisingly deep and throaty. His freakish angular appearance reminded Julia of a gawky teenager, only with some deeper mystery to him that fascinated the eye.

‘Something tells me Rachel has not made a favourable impression?' He whispered this to Julia so that the others couldn't hear. ‘She can be a little challenging, Mizz Jones.'

As she sat there, feeling Henri's wiry long-boned body next to hers, Julia found herself surprisingly drawn to his awkward personality. Though his silence and gaunt appearance had been alarming at first, she found that now she thought of him as complicated rather than intimidating. After seeing the utter focus of his knife-throwing and watching his muscles flexing delicately as he threw them, she had new admiration for his slim, bizarre body. She felt she was in the presence of a skilled artist.

‘So, is Rachel like that with everyone?' she asked.

‘She's a firework. She likes to cause trouble.'

‘You could call her a firework. Or you could just call
her a bitch.' Julia couldn't keep the bitterness from her tone.

Henri looked at her, amused. His dark eyes raked over hers, and she felt like some deep gentle force was probing her.

She really hurt you,' Henri said, his voice more amused than sympathetic. Julia clenched her teeth, refusing to admit all the anxieties that seethed in her heart. She had performed well, but the circus was testing skills other than her dancing ability. Living among these people she felt she had to be constantly on the alert for games and traps.

‘Julia, this isn't just a summer job.' She looked up confused. Henri turned and surveyed the crowd who surrounded them, the tattooed, muscular men and the lithe women who laughed with deep throaty amusement as they sipped beer and discussed the night's show. He nodded at the people in the tent.

‘We live this way. When we put on a show, it's not merely work. It's just the time we invite strangers to watch us. To watch us play our games.' With a long, white-knuckled finger, he pointed at Sarah.