The Girl Who Walked on Air (17 page)

No one got well with bars on their windows. Anyone in the circus knew what it did to wild animals – it was why Mr Chipchase only kept horses. So heck knows what this locked room had done to Mam. I had to get her away from here. And fast. Even with the red tunic safely out of sight, she was still trembling hard.

‘Oh no,’ she said in a low moaning voice. ‘Oh dear God, no.’

‘What is it?’

She snatched both my hands. Right now she looked every inch the biter.

‘You’re here with
him
, aren’t you? He hasn’t hurt you, has he? Tell me he hasn’t!’

I tried to pull my hands free, but she held them tight. Her fingers were burning hot. Glancing at the door, I wondered where Miss Winters was. She’d surely be due back by now.

Mam saw my alarm and loosened her grip.

‘Louie, I’m sorry.’ Her voice shook. ‘But if you knew what evil there is in that man you’d never have come to America with him.’

I felt very uneasy. Because I did know how evil Mr Wellbeloved was, and now so did most of New York State, thanks to the papers.

‘I’m not with him anymore,’ I said.

‘You promise me?’

‘Absolutely.’

She lay back on the bed. It took a while for her trembling to ease. When it did, she shifted onto her side and gazed at me. Her nose was pink from crying.

‘Many years ago I worked for Mr Chipchase. Things became . . . well . . . complicated.’

I didn’t quite follow, but she kept talking.

‘Stupidly, I wanted bigger and better things. So I left Chipchase’s and joined up with . . .’ she couldn’t speak his name, ‘
. . . him.
You were not long born, and the work was hard.’

A sick thought rushed into my head. ‘Mr Wellbeloved’s not my . . . ?’

‘No, Louie. He’s not your father.’

I breathed again.

‘So,’ Mam continued, ‘with you to care for, I had to keep working, even though it was tough, tougher than I’d ever known at Chipchase’s. No one dared cross the gaffer.’

I winced, picturing Gabriel’s horsewhipped arms.

‘Then he had notions about Niagara,’ said Mam. ‘I was dazzled by it. I was a showstopper. It was in my blood. I was also under contract to him, so I had to agree. But,’ she blinked slowly, ‘there was a catch.’

I shuddered. It was bound to be awful.

‘He wanted me to walk the Falls with you strapped to my back . . . you were but four months old.’

It was. Truly awful.

‘
Blondin
,’ I said, feeling ill. ‘Mr Wellbeloved said he needed a trick to outshine Blondin.’

Mam nodded. ‘He was obsessed by it. But I’d have died rather than put you in that much danger. I’d never want you to cross the Falls.’

‘Oh.’

I turned away. What should I tell her? That it was too late, that I
had
crossed the Falls just yesterday? That Mr Wellbeloved had set the whole thing up, and that he’d wanted me to walk the Falls all along?

It hit me
slap bang
in the face.

This wasn’t about glory.

This was revenge.

Mr Wellbeloved had done this to punish Mam, all because she’d dared to say no. On the face of it, it seemed far-fetched. Only someone truly twisted would think up such a plan. And then wait . . . and wait . . . for thirteen whole years, with all that bitterness still festering away inside them.

Mr Wellbeloved
was
that twisted. And he was persistent. A bit of luck and he’d found me through Gabriel. The rest was pure cunning: not choosing me, then welcoming me on the ship, taking the red heart and then giving it back again, even hounding Gabriel to his death. It was all part of the trail of crumbs. And it all led to one thing.

Me crossing Niagara Falls.

The realisation made it hard to breathe. I fought the urge to scream by digging my nails into my palms.

How could he, how could he, how could he?

Mam eased my hands apart. ‘Louie?’

Bewildered, I looked into her eyes. They were huge and dark and stormy. But there was also a flicker of fire in them.

That fire was in me too. For I hadn’t been exactly helpless in all this. I wasn’t a baby strapped to its mother’s back. I also had my own reasons for being here.
I’d
wanted to cross Niagara more than anything.
I’d
chosen it. And I’d done it in style. The whole world might now know of Little Miss Blondin. Yet what mattered more were the other headlines, the ones that shamed Mr Wellbeloved. That had been my work too.

‘He didn’t hurt you, Louie, and that’s all I care about,’ said Mam.

She was right. Though it didn’t wipe out Mr Wellbeloved’s intentions. The thought of Gabriel still made my chest hurt. I’d never forget him or his poor brother.

‘So, how did you get out of performing?’ I asked, wanting to hear her story much more than dwelling on mine. ‘Did Mr Wellbeloved follow you? Did he whip you?’

Mam took a big, shivery breath. ‘I left you behind in England. It nearly killed me to do it, but the alternative was far worse.’

‘But why Chipchase’s? And why Jasper’s wagon? Why not a foundling hospital or an orphanage?’

Her face went soft.

Oh blimey,
I thought, picturing waistcoats and angry voices, and worse, Kitty Chipchase’s sour face. This time
my
cheeks flushed.
Mam and Mr Chipchase? Really?
I hardly dared think it, but I knew what it meant. Only I wasn’t ready to hear it, not yet.

Mam gave my hand a little squeeze. ‘That wagon, my sweet child, was once my wagon. It was where you were born.’

I gulped. ‘Was it?’

‘It was. I’d heard Jasper, who’d replaced me as showstopper, was a dear man. And I wanted you to still have your home.’

Jasper
replaced
Mam
?

I couldn’t quite grasp it. Any of it. Yet when I pictured our wagon with its tiny bunks and cluttered shelves, the ache in my chest grew strong. It was home, and had always been home. Now I was beginning to see why.

‘Chipchase’s is a good circus with good people,’ said Mam. ‘It was the best place I knew.’

There was still so much I didn’t understand. But I realised one thing for certain, even more than when I’d first read her letter. Mam hadn’t left me behind like an umbrella at all. She’d left me so I’d be safe, and Chipchase’s had done its very best for her. And for me.

Though her face was wet with tears now, Mam kept on with her story. ‘I didn’t tell that monster I’d left you behind till we’d arrived in America. All the way, I’d pretended you were sleeping in the cabin.’

‘And then?’

‘When I did tell him, he . . . well, there was quite a scene. He insisted we send for you at once. I refused. Point blank.’

I shivered.

‘So,’ she wiped her cheek, ‘he threatened to send me here. He said I’d never see you again if he did. It made me so mad I attacked him.’

‘You fell into his trap, just like I did.’

‘Sorry?’

At that moment the door opened. Miss Winters held it wide as a man stepped inside. Mam rose from the bed.

‘What is it, Dr Grogan?’ She squared her shoulders and folded her arms. Maybe I imagined it, but she looked taller too. Just like Miss Lilly’s last card – the one about female power – and it made me feel brave too. Here was my mam, the empress.

The doctor took his glasses off, cleaned them, then put them back on again. He squinted like a mole.

‘Ah, Miss Samparini,’ he said. ‘There seems to be a problem.’

Now I stood up too. Today wasn’t for visitors and he’d come to ask me to leave, hadn’t he? Perhaps never to come back again. A wave of panic hit me. For now I’d found Mam I couldn’t bear to leave her, not even for a day. Yet I’d still not the faintest idea how to get her out of here, not without doctors or lawyers or whatever it took.

‘It has come to my attention that there are six months at least of unpaid accounts,’ Dr Grogan said. ‘We have requested payment, but Mr Wellbeloved hasn’t responded.’

‘I see,’ said Mam.

So did I. For hadn’t there been six envelopes in Mrs Franklin’s basket? That surely meant one for each unpaid month. And Mr Wellbeloved hadn’t opened any of them.

‘You won’t find him, sir,’ I said. ‘Read today’s papers and you’ll see. He’s been run out of town.’

Dr Grogan spread his hands. ‘Then there is no easy way to say this, Miss Samparini. Without payment, we cannot continue to treat you.’

It took a moment to realise what he was saying. Mam turned to me, bewildered as I started to laugh. For it really was absurd. Mr Wellbeloved had never been a good payer. Gabriel had known it and so did I. He was so busy scheming he’d forgotten to pay the very bills that kept Mam from me. Odd though it was, I felt grateful. So grateful I seized Mam’s hands.

‘In which case,’ I said, ‘we’re going home.’

Fresh off the boat, we tracked down Chipchase’s Travelling Circus, Mam and me. And just like he’d done all those years ago, Mr Chipchase took us in.

‘So you came back, Maria,’ he’d said on seeing Mam, still pale and thin but getting stronger every day. ‘And aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?’

For me, he had just three words, ‘Well, well, well.’ The look of joy on his face said the rest.

Within hours he’d made me the showstopper again. The posters went up all over town. ‘BIGGEST SHOW OF THE SEASON’ they said in bold blue letters. Written bigger still was ‘MISS NIAGARA: THE GIRL WHO WALKS ON AIR,’ the show name I’d chosen myself because that’s how crossing Niagara had felt. Everyone agreed it was perfect because it told the world what I’d done. And it meant Blondin had his name back too.

Secretly, I’d thought of other names, like ‘Miss Found Her Mam’ and ‘Miss Said No To Mr Wellbeloved’, though they didn’t quite have the same ring. Nor did ‘Miss Still Hurting Over Gabriel’, because that was just plain miserable, even if it did happen to be true.

It was also true that Mr Chipchase was my pa, and hiding from it wouldn’t change things. What surprised me was how quickly I got used to the idea. Yet I didn’t want to swap the surname that had been another layer of disguise. Far safer to have been raised Reynolds than Chipchase, I saw that now.

What was in a name, anyhow? Chipchase’s Travelling Circus was family to me. Had been and always would be. Though Mr Chipchase shouted and Kitty got up my nose, perhaps everyone’s relatives were a tiny bit like that. And as for his fixation on Wellbeloved’s Circus, I understood it now for what it had been: not an eye on the competition, but fear. Fear that a man in a too-tall hat would lure me away before my mam could reach me.

Now it was almost show time. Dusk was falling and dew lay thick on the grass. The tickets were all sold, the showground was filling up, and four of us were squeezed inside Paolo and Marco’s wagon. This time it wasn’t me fixing costumes; now I was the one being pinned and tucked. Mam and Jasper sat on the only chairs. I was better standing, for I couldn’t keep my jiggling knees still. It made things hard for poor Paolo, who was trying to put the finishing touches to my tunic.

Mam narrowed her eyes. ‘Make it shorter.’

Jasper disagreed. ‘It needs more sparkle.’

‘Enough!’ I cried. ‘Listen to yourselves!’

They’d argued over everything at first, right down to how I liked my lapsang tea. It felt odd having two people fighting for my affections. But things were getting better. Mam saw how I loved Jasper, and Jasper had always wanted me to know my mam.

‘What do you think, Pip?’ I said to my little dog, who was curled at my feet.

The tip of his tail twitched.

‘Pip thinks it’s fine.’

Yet I couldn’t resist a glance in Paolo’s mirror. And when I saw my reflection, my mouth fell open.

‘Oh . . . my . . . word.’

The red taffeta tunic shimmered in the lamplight. He’d done a stunning job at repairing it, and it quite took my breath away. On the left-hand side, where a hole had once been, there was now just the faintest heart-shaped seam. Only those who knew of it would see anything amiss.

‘It’s wonderful,’ I said, fearing I might sob.

Jasper and Mam nodded in agreement. They both had tears in their eyes.

A knock at the wagon door brought us up sharp. It was Ned, all smart in his ringmaster’s hat and tails.

‘Fifteen minutes to go, Louie,’ he said, and then looked me over, but not in a moony way, for things were different now. ‘You ready?’

‘I am.’

I gave Pip a fussing, then reached for Jasper’s hand. ‘For luck,’ I said, kissing his palm three times.

He closed his fist to keep them safe. Last of all, I hugged my mam tight.

Outside, the air smelled of autumn. Gooseflesh rose up on my arms, though it was more from excitement than the cold. We cut through the crowds, past the stalls selling toffee apples and spiced buns, which were all lit up a treat.

‘She’s meant to be quite something, this Miss Niagara,’ I heard a punter say.

‘Better than Blondin, so I’ve heard,’ said another.

Grinning, I nudged Ned.

‘That’s what everyone’s saying,’ he said, nudging me back.

‘I’m not better, just different,’ I said.

Really, I’d much to thank Blondin for. His brilliance had filled my head with magic. And his mistakes had shown me a line it wasn’t right to cross.

At the end of the stalls, next to the coconut shy, was Miss Lilly’s tent, its coloured lights twinkling in the dusk. She was standing outside.

‘Evening to you, Miss Lilly,’ I said with a wave.

She dipped her head. ‘’Tis a fine night tonight, Louie.’

I was glad to hear it.

‘The cards were right,’ she said. ‘And so were you.’

‘I’ll catch you up,’ I said to Ned.

Turning to Miss Lilly, I felt her strangeness pull at me.

‘You reached out to your mother. You faced your past.’ Her voice was low and thrilling. ‘Yet what of your future? It’s time to reach for that also.’

‘Death?’ I said, for I remembered the skeleton card well.

‘New beginnings, Louie, that’s what the card means. But I feel you are still fearful of something. Part of you is hiding away.’

I didn’t quite follow. Hundreds of people had come to see me tonight. Here I was in short skirts, hair loose to my waist and a big smile to match. I was hardly hiding away.

Then Ned was back, tugging at my arm. ‘Five minutes to go,’ he said. ‘Get a shift on.’

We went straight to the practice area at the back of the big top. A bonfire blazed in the middle of the makeshift ring. It cast a glow over the performers and sent twirling sparks dancing into the air. I breathed in the smell of smoke and horses, of greasepaint and earth and sheer hard work. My heart swelled. No, I didn’t quite believe Miss Lilly. This was my world. And there was nothing in it to be scared of.

As I began to do my stretches, the magic took hold. Warmth spread from my toes to my fingertips, up and up to the very ends of my hair. Yet Miss Lilly’s words didn’t want to shift. They lodged in my head just when I needed a clear mind.

Focus, Louie.

More stretches, more breathing. Bit by bit the words went quiet.

And then other thoughts rose up in their place. Never mind that Ned was friends with Kitty, because I was trying to be too. Perhaps all along she’d known who I was, and that doing her sums, she’d realised I was only two years younger than her, which meant her pa hadn’t grieved her dead mam for long. Or it might not have been that at all. It might’ve been because she’d had a soft spot for Ned. And if it was, then things had a way of working themselves out. For now, just feet away from me, he had his arm around her shoulders and was grinning at her in a way he’d once grinned at me.

Keep focused. Let the magic work.

I shut my eyes.

When I opened them again, something had happened. Marco’s mouth was hanging open. Rosa had slid down off her horse. And Ned, no longer mooning over Kitty, was shaking someone’s hand and pointing in my direction.

A boy stepped forward. The fire lit him from behind, and although he was in shadow his outline seemed to glow. He had a kitbag slung over his shoulder and was wearing a crumpled suit. I was sure I was dreaming. Yet now the boy was nearer, there was no mistaking that floppy blond hair, or the way his chin went sharp when he smiled. No mistaking either the frantic fluttering inside me.

‘Gabriel!’ I breathed.

I stared at him in a kind of daze. As time had passed and no body was reported, I’d sometimes dared to hope
: perhaps he’d reached Canada. Perhaps he’d be all right.
But more often than not, all I pictured was that empty tightrope and the mist swirling around it.

‘You made it,’ I said.

‘I did,’ he said, looking almost shy.

I wondered if I should hug him. Trouble was, I was stuck to the spot.

‘What . . . I mean . . .
how
?’ I stammered.

‘I got to Canada,’ he said, ‘and worked until I could pay my passage home. Then I came back to Mrs Franklin’s to find you, but she said you’d gone.’

I kept staring. It was a while before I trusted myself to speak again.

‘So you did it. You walked the Falls. Oh Gabriel!’

‘You did too,’ he smiled, ‘
and
you found your mother, so I hear.’

‘And not before time,’ I said. ‘Mr Wellbeloved had got his claws into her too. What he did was shocking, even by his standards.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Gabriel said. ‘But you stood up to him, Louie. I read it in the papers – you shamed him out of town.’

I felt my cheeks flush. ‘I think we did it together, really.’

‘Did you know he tried to open another circus under a different name?’

‘What, here? In England?’

Gabriel nodded. ‘He changed his name to Mr Diablo.’

‘That’s fitting,’ I said, for diablo meant the devil. ‘Suits him much better than Wellbeloved.’

Gabriel looked at me and smiled. My stomach did an odd sort of swoop.

‘The Society for Moral Obedience discovered how he’d treated people in his circuses,’ he said, ‘and they shut him down before he had the chance to open.’

‘Do-gooders, eh? Who’d have thought it? Maybe they do
some
good after all.’

‘Actually, what they did was say no to him.’

Agreed, it was the sweetest revenge.

The rest of the performers had gone inside the tent, for the show was starting now. Mighty Ned’s voice echoed out over the showground as he welcomed tonight’s crowd.

‘Ladies and gentlemen . . . this is our finest show of the season . . .’

I squeezed Gabriel’s hand. ‘I’d better go.’

‘I wanted to see you again, Louie, to know you were all right.’ He kept hold of my fingers.

My insides leaped like they did when our wagon went too fast over a bridge. I couldn’t seem to speak.

Eventually, he let go of me. ‘Well, I suppose this is goodbye.’

‘Wait!’ I cried, all in a rush. ‘Please! Oh do watch the show. And then . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘And then perhaps we could speak to Mr Chipchase about you staying on with us . . . or something . . .’

‘You’re his showstopper now, Louie. He doesn’t need me as well.’

I reached for his hand again.

‘But I do.’

Gabriel smiled. Not his normal, pleasant, mouth-curving one, but a great beam that made his whole face shine.

‘Thank goodness, Louie,’ he said, taking both my hands in his. ‘Thank goodness.’

The big top was packed to the rafters. There was no rustling of papers, no clearing of throats. The silence was sharp as a blade. As I stood under the spotlight, every little part of me felt alive.

‘Now . . .’ cried Mighty Ned, ‘. . . the very moment you’ve been waiting for . . . where skill triumphs over weakness . . . where bravery triumphs over fear . . .’

The light was just enough to see the front row.

‘Fix on a face in the crowd,’ Jasper once said. ‘Perform just for them.’

And tonight here he was, looking handsome as ever. To his left was Mam; she blew me a little kiss. Next to her sat Mr Chipchase, in a new tweed waistcoat. For once, the colours were quite tame. And next to him was my half-sister, Kitty, who actually looked rather pretty when she didn’t scowl. Sat at the end was a boy with golden hair and a smile that could melt icebergs. On his knee, looking blissful, was my little white dog.

It was a most glorious sight. I felt fit to burst.

Yet how could I choose? It was impossible. These faces were all dear to me, every single one.

So I chose them all.

Turning from the crowds, I made my way to the ladder. I climbed it slowly, waving and smiling at every second rung. At the top, I paused. I rolled my shoulders one last time, shook out my hands, my feet. Below me, Mighty Ned talked on.

‘Ladies and gentlemen . . . with great pleasure and pride . . . I give you . . . Miss Niagara: The Girl Who Walks On Air!’

Yet tonight the lightness didn’t just come from my feet. It came from deep inside me, where I’d kept it hidden for far too long. And now I’d opened up at last, I was truly walking on air.

Focus, Louie.

Shutting my eyes, I waited for my head to clear. I filled my lungs. Breathed out good and slow. Nothing else mattered as I stepped out onto the tightrope. Once a showstopper, always a showstopper.

And right now, it was show time.